A good runner may outpace an elephant on level ground for a short sprint. But in thick jungle a man has a poor chance. Undergrowth and creepers that bar his progress will not hinder an elephant, which can burst through them easily. He cannot escape up a tree; for the large ones in the forest are devoid of branches for many feet from the ground, and any tree slender enough for him to grasp and climb could be easily knocked down by the elephant. But I am not sure that the animal would have sufficient intelligence to do so in order to reach the man.
I was not long in Buxa before making the acquaintance of a rogue. About three weeks after my arrival I was out in the forest on Khartoum, accompanied by her mahout, Bechan, and a shikaree or native hunter. Early in the day I shot a sambhur stag. The two men slipped off the elephant to hallal it; and I followed to photograph the dead beast with a hand-camera. The mahout was holding up the head in position for me, when we heard a sudden crashing in the jungle behind us. Bechan dropped the head in evident alarm and said:
"Sahib, that is a wild elephant. I believe it has been following us; for I heard it behind us as we came along."
Hardly had he spoken, when the head of an elephant appeared above the undergrowth. It was a male with a splendid pair of long curved tusks. The moment it caught sight of us it stopped. New to the jungle, I was under the impression that all wild elephants were inoffensive creatures. So I was rejoiced at this opportunity of photographing one, for such pictures are very rare; and, camera in hand, I started towards it. But the moment Khartoum saw the intruder, she stampeded, followed by her mahout. The shikaree yelled:
"It's a mad elephant. Shoot, Sahib, shoot, and save our lives!" And he bolted.
The newcomer still stood motionless, looking at me; and I smiled at my men's alarm. Still I thought it advisable to put the camera down and take up my rifle. It was unloaded; so I slipped in a couple of solid bullets instead of the "soft-nosed" ones used for animals less hard to pierce than elephants or bison. But I had no intention of firing; for the forest regulations impose penalties up to six months' imprisonment or a fine of five hundred rupees for killing an elephant. I looked regretfully at the fine tusks; they would have been a splendid trophy. Still smoking my pipe I walked towards the animal which had not moved but was regarding me with a fixed stare. I halted and, taking off my big sun-helmet, waved it in the air and shouted:
"Shoo! you brute. Be off!"
"THE MAHOUT WAS HOLDING UP THE HEAD."