The shikaree had often followed the spoor of wild elephants through the jungles of Bengal, and knew everything about their way of travelling. He was therefore able to tell the others that the rogue had not been browsing as he went—for the leaves and twigs showed no signs of his teeth—but on the contrary, he had moved forward rapidly, and as if with some special determination. The broken branches which they saw were more likely to have been torn off out of spite at the ill-usage he had received, and the disappointment at not having succeeded in his purposes of vengeance.
It did not need for Ossaroo to caution his companions to circumspection. They knew as well as he that an elephant enraged as this one was, whether a rogue elephant or an honest one, was anything but a safe customer to come in contact with; and that this particular rogue was most particularly angry they had just had both ocular and auricular evidence.
They went forward, therefore, with unusual caution, taking care to keep both their eyes and ears on the alert, and at the same time moving in perfect silence, or conversing only in whispers.
The path upon which they were returning was not that by which they had gone forth. The reconnoissance of the cliffs had carried them a good distance around the edge of the valley; but now they were following the track taken by the elephant, which, as already ascertained by Ossaroo, led almost in a direct line to the hut.
As they drew nearer to their rude habitation, they saw indications that the enemy was still before them. As they knew that in the immediate neighbourhood of the hot-spring, and consequently of the hut itself, there were no large trees or other place of safety to which they might retreat in case of being again attacked, they began to advance with increased caution. From the direction in which they were approaching, the hovel could not be seen until they should get within less than two hundred yards of it. There was a belt of rather tall jungle to be passed through, and then it would be in sight.
Through this jungle they commenced advancing; and there, to their no slight uneasiness, they also observed fresh traces of the elephant. They were now certain that he had passed through it before them, still going direct for the hut.
What on earth can he want there? was the query that once more suggested itself to the minds of all three. It certainly looked as if he had proceeded there in search of them! As if, missing them from the scene of the encounter, he believed they had returned home, and was following up their acquaintance.
From what they had observed, they could not help attributing to the great quadruped the possession of an intelligence something more than natural; and this, though it may have been only an absurd fancy on their part, had the effect of begetting within their minds a very painful feeling of apprehension. What they saw on coming out on the other side of the jungle not only strengthened this feeling of apprehension, but increased it all at once to a positive terror.
The hut, which should now have been before their eyes, and at a distance of not quite two hundred paces, was no longer there! The ruins of it alone were visible. The large boulders with which its walls had been built, the beams and thatch that had composed its roof, the grass couches upon which they had slept, the rude improvised utensils and other articles which had served them for furniture, were all strewed far and wide over the ground; and not the semblance of a house, or even hovel, remained to show that the spot had been occupied by a human habitation!
Yes—in what had been their rude dwelling our adventurers beheld only a ruder ruin—scarce one stone standing upon, another!