Oshoria, who was within a few feet from me, was in a better position to shoot, for I had a number of plantain trees in my way. I could not get a good aim.
The gun of Oshoria rose slowly,—then I saw a flash and heard a terrific detonation, and, to my consternation, the bull charged in my direction. He had had a glimpse of me. He was coming at full speed, while the crash made by the frightened and fleeing elephants added to the confusion.
In the twinkling of an eye I took three steps backward, and was protected by the burned trunk of a tree. I was just in time. The infuriated animal passed close by me. As he did so, I fired behind his right shoulder, but he did not fall, and went on into the forest followed by the cow elephants. I was sure “Bulldog” had hit the huge beast, and Oshoria was much surprised that the elephant had not fallen dead. He eyed “Bulldog,” as if to say: “I do not understand why you did not kill the elephant outright.”
In the meantime, the detonation of our guns had scared the two other herds; we heard them tearing down everything in the forest that opposed their flight. This was a narrow escape of mine; but for the tree I should have been trampled upon or impaled,—so quick was the charging of the bull. Then the advice of Regundo came into my mind, that a hunter should never lose his head before sudden danger. I was covered with perspiration, and my heart beat quickly from the excitement.
We returned to the camp, and Ngola, Ogoola, and Quabi came back at dawn, reporting that they had been watching the two herds of elephants, and fully expected to kill one, but the firing of our guns had blighted their hopes.
After breakfast, Oshoria and I went in search of the bull we had shot, for we were sure he was wounded. We came to the track the elephant had left behind him, and after a short time, not five hundred yards from the place where we had shot him, Oshoria gave a cluck to draw my attention, and pointed ahead. I looked and saw a huge bull elephant lying on the ground upon his stomach, with his head downward, but facing us. Our coming seemed to rouse him. He raised his head and looked at us. He evidently recognized in us his enemies of the night, who had inflicted his deadly wound,—and before we had even time to think, and while I was pitying the poor beast, he rose and charged us at furious speed. We had just time to get out of his way. He dashed past us and fell down, exhausted by his efforts. He wanted revenge before dying. Oshoria fired at the elephant and shouted to me to fire, for he was not sure that he would not rise again. The magnificent beast was dead when we came near. He was over ten feet in height, and had very large tusks. We found that he had been wounded. His charge had been so unexpected that I wondered that one of us had not been killed. This was the narrowest escape I ever had with elephants.
I looked at the huge bull. His thick hide was covered with scars,—most of them healed, but two or three new. All bore witness to the numerous fights he had had with other bulls for the mastery of the herd. He had had to assert his supremacy by constant fighting, and had he not been killed by us, the day was sure to come, as he grew old, when he would at last find a bull stronger than he was.
At the sound of our guns Ogoola, Ngola, and Quabi left their camp and soon came up. Oshoria and I were seated on the huge beast when they appeared. Oshoria shouted to them: “We are men! We are men!” and they responded: “You are men! You are men indeed!”
Quabi went after an axe and the big hunting-knives. The first thing we did on his return was to take off the fine tusks from the elephant’s head. It was hard work, for they were embedded in the skull for nearly three feet. One tusk weighed ninety-seven, the other ninety-one pounds. The tusks are never of the same weight. Then we brought a great deal of the meat to the camp, for we had nothing to eat, and the men took two large pieces into the forest for Mombo and Olombo.