CHAPTER XXIV
A LUCKY SHOT
From their elevated perch Colin and Tiny had been watching the beginning of the encounter with feelings akin to awe. The elephant of their imagination had been completely dwarfed by this enormous bulk—the furious, bellowing behemoth. They clung tightly to the limb of the tree, hardly conscious that they were doing so, their whole attention being centred upon the scene below.
But when Colonel Narfield tripped and fell, the two chums were stirred to action. In an instant came the realisation that they were not spectators, but participators in the game of death.
Desmond, lowering his rifle, fired hurriedly at the huge animal. Whether he hit the elephant or not, the bullet made not the slightest apparent impression upon the brute. In his anxiety for the Colonel's safety, Tiny simply had to fire because he had a rifle in his hand, but his action was purely automatic.
On the other hand, Colin was deliberate. He, too, levelled his rifle, but, at the same time, a mental view of the most vulnerable parts of an elephant flashed across his mind. Perhaps he was two seconds later than his chum in firing, but those two seconds had not been wasted.
With the back-sight of the rifle down to zero, Colin aimed straight at the elephant's right eye. It was not an easy shot, in spite of the fact that the animal was end-on, for, as the brute charged, its enormous head was continuously and rapidly jerking up and down, while the brandished trunk added to the baffling nature of the comparatively small target.
Sinclair, holding his breath, pressed the trigger. The rifle kicked more than usual—in fact, Colin noticed it, notwithstanding the greater issue.
Almost simultaneously with the sharp crack of the rifle the bull elephant dropped. Carried on by the impetus of its rush, the enormous bulk plunged forward for another eight or ten yards and then stopped, quivering and struggling, within a couple of feet of Colonel Narfield, who had contrived to roll away from the very place where the vanquished animal had come to a standstill.
Setting the safety-catch of his rifle, Colin dropped lightly to the ground. Then, preparing to administer the coup de grâce, he advanced towards the hulking brute.