“Hold fast. Our elephant may spin round, and go off at a gallop,” said the doctor.
But the huge beast stood firm, only lowering its head, and swinging it right and left, as it kept its little sagacious-looking eyes fixed upon the great bulls in front, while its great tusks were ready to meet the bulls’ wide-spreading horns.
It was my first experience of being face to face with any of the large game of India; and, as I grasped the idea of what a formidable creature the buffalo was—certainly nearly double the size of one of our ordinary oxen, my heart began to beat rather heavily.
“Shall I fire?” I whispered to the doctor; for I had my rifle resting on the front of the howdah, ready to take aim.
“No,” said a familiar voice on my right; and I found that Brace’s elephant had been urged forward until it was now close abreast of ours. “If you fired at this distance, you would only be wasting a shot. You could not bring either of the brutes down, and it would be only wounding them for nothing.”
“Going to charge, aren’t they?” said the doctor.
“I hope not. They may think better of it, and go back into the jungle.”
Brace was right, for, after standing staring stupidly at the elephants for some moments, the great slaty-black creatures slowly moved off into the dense growth on our left.
I suppose that I showed my disappointment, for Brace said quietly—
“It is not considered wise to spend time in firing at everything one meets, when bound to beat up tiger.”