"Yes, in India the males are so named, but here in Africa both sexes have tusks, though those on the he ones are bigger, and are said to be better ivory."
It was determined, therefore, to march against the elephants next day, and neither Conal nor Frank could sleep very well for thinking of it.
Now, though I have no desire to be hard upon my heroes, I must say that I am not sorry for what happened, because elephants--next to our friend the dog--are probably the wisest and most innocent animals in the world.
When, therefore, Duncan next forenoon killed a lady elephant and Conal wounded a bull, the lady being his wife, it was no wonder he should lose his temper and charge right down on the lad.
To fly was impossible. There was no refuge anywhere. But Conal did attempt to retreat. He stumbled and fell, however, and next moment the awful foe was upon him. A less brave boy would have fainted, but there was no such weakness about Conal, though he felt his hour was come, and Duncan, who was fully eighty yards away, could not assist him. He put his hands to his eyes to avoid being a witness to the dreadful death of his brother, which now seemed inevitable.
The wounded monster had dashed forward trumpeting, but, once alongside, though blood was jerking from a wound through one of his eyes, he attacked immediately. He knelt beside the boy's prostrate form and attempted to tusk him. The terrible snorting, blood-streaming head was close over him. But, with the quickness and cuteness of a professional footballer, Conal rolled himself between his legs, and now the brute attempted to squash him to death with his knees, and Conal managed, strange to say, to avoid each stroke.
It was really a tussle for life, and, unable to bear the sight any longer, Duncan came rushing on now towards the scene of conflict, apparently determined to die with Conal if he could not rescue him.
The boy seemed to be dead, and was almost under the elephant. But Duncan took steady aim, and the bullet put out the poor beast's other eye. He staggered to his feet now, and, stumbling and trumpeting as he went, made directly back to the herd.
Conal was bruised and sore, as well he might be, but otherwise intact, and the two hunters now made for higher ground.
Now I do not know the reason for what followed. I can but guess it, and give the reader facts. Only, when the great bull regained the herd, which, by the way, numbered only about a score, he fell, or rather threw himself down in front of his companions.