SUBHEDAR SOHANPAL SINGH.

At daybreak we started out, Sohanpal Singh and his orderly on Dundora, while Draj Khan and I led the way on Khartoum. The three were armed with Government ·303 rifles, while I had my cordite rifle. Our blankets were strapped on the pads, and our haversacks were filled with food. I carried a loaf of bread and a tin of corned beef in mine; while my Thermos flask was filled with limejuice and boiled water. Thus equipped, we started out amidst the cheers of the sepoys, who had been deeply interested in the account of the fights we had had on the previous day. Our route lay by a jungle village called Rungamutti, two miles from our stockade; and a couple of hours after we had passed it we picked up the elephant's trail.

The jungle across the river-bed where we had stopped the pursuit was at first fairly open; and I hoped that we should find our quarry in it. We came on the spot where he had passed the night. The grass was pressed down all around and was covered with blood. This was encouraging; and we went on full of hope. Suddenly through the trees we caught sight of an elephant standing sideways to us. The mahouts halted their animals and we brought our rifles to the ready.

But Bechan whispered, "That is not the budmash, Sahib. See, it has no tusks."

It was a muckna or tuskerless male. These are generally timid beasts, being constantly bullied in the herds by the males provided by Nature with weapons of offence. As soon as this one caught sight of us it bolted away through the jungle. We watched its headlong flight and then continued on the trail. A mile or two further on the jungle had the appearance of an English wood and the ground was carpeted with ferns. In an open glade we saw another elephant. It was a female; and, although it turned its head and looked at us, it did not evince any alarm. So I determined to try to secure a photograph of it. I handed my rifle to Draj Khan and took up my Kodak. The wild elephant stood still while I opened and adjusted the camera and pressed the bulb. As soon as the click of the shutter announced that the operation was over, she turned and moved slowly off into the jungle, while I waved my hat to her and expressed my thanks for her courtesy in waiting until I had taken her portrait. Unfortunately I had been too far off to secure a really good photograph, which was to be regretted, for such pictures are, naturally, extremely rare.

After her departure we moved on again. The forest grew denser; and the thick and entangled undergrowth delayed our progress; for, of course, a tame elephant with a pad and men on her back cannot slip through it as easily as an unencumbered wild one can do. So we were continually obliged to make detours and could not follow the trail closely.

About eleven o'clock in the morning a sudden crash in the jungle a hundred yards ahead of us startled our elephants. Before the mahouts could stop them they swung round and stampeded. It was my first experience of being bolted with; and it was decidedly unpleasant. Dundora, which had been behind, was now leading, and dashed through the trees, followed closely by Khartoum. As the noise had apparently been caused by the rogue, I tried to turn round on the pad, ready to fire. And doing so, while at the same time endeavouring to hold on and dodge the boughs and creepers overhead, was no easy task. Over and over again I was nearly swept off. Luckily the mahouts soon got their elephants in hand and stopped them. Then we cautiously advanced again, expecting every moment that the rogue would charge out on us. But when we reached the spot whence the noise had proceeded we found by the trail that he had been lying down and, startled by our appearance, had risen and fled. We urged our elephants forward. The chase was becoming exciting. We followed as fast as we could go, hoping every minute to catch sight of the quarry. The jungle was growing more difficult and we made slow progress.

"WE SAW ANOTHER ELEPHANT."