"If you call this luck," rejoined the Colonel, indicating his ankle, "I am. You've bagged a brute, then?"
"Two," replied the old man with justifiable pride. "It took three shots to do it. One of the natives was trampled on before I settled the second cow. But that's a splendid brute of yours! Look at the tusks!"
"It wasn't my shot," protested Colonel Narfield. "These lads brought him down just as he was on the point of trampling on me."
Van der Wyck made no audible comment. He walked across to where the bull elephant lay surrounded by a mob of natives, for unaccountably the original number had been augmented by almost every man from Sibenga's Kraal.
Presently he returned.
"I can find only one wound," he announced, "although there might be one on the animal's left side; but I can't find that out, as he is lying on that side. There is a bullet hole under the right eye caused by an explosive bullet."
"An explosive bullet!" echoed Colonel Narfield.
"Not mine," declared Tiny.
"Nor mine," added Colin ruefully.
"Let me see your ammunition, lads," suggested the Colonel.