The
ground was gently inclining upwards on either side the plain, but the
level was a mass of deep, hardened ruts, over which no horse could
gallop. Knowing my friend's character, I rode up the rising ground to
reconnoitre: I found it tolerably clear of holes, and far superior to
the rutty bottom. My two mounted gun-bearers had now joined me, and far
from enjoying the sport, they were almost green with fright, when I
ordered them to keep close to me and to advance.
I wanted them to attract the elephant's attention, so as to enable me to
obtain a good shoulder shot. Riding along the open plain, I at length
arrived within about fifty yards of the bull, when he slowly turned.
Reining "Tetel" up, I immediately fired a steady shot at the shoulder
with the Reilly No. 10:--for a moment he fell upon his knees, but,
recovering with wonderful quickness, he was in full charge upon me.
Fortunately I had inspected my ground previous to the attack, and away I
went up the inclination to my right, the spurs hard at work, and the
elephant screaming with rage, GAINING on me. My horse felt as though
made of wood, and clumsily rolled along in a sort of cow-gallop;--in
vain I dug the spurs into his flanks, and urged him by rein and voice;
not an extra stride could I get out of him, and he reeled along as
though thoroughly exhausted, plunging in and out of the buffalo holes
instead of jumping them.
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