Yaseen was, of course, nowhere; but after a quarter of an
hour's shouting and whistling, he reappeared, and I mounted Filfil,
ordering Tetel to be led home.
The sun had just sunk, and the two Latookas who now joined me refused to
go farther on the tracks, saying, that the elephant must die during the
night, and that they would find him in the morning. We were at least ten
miles from camp; I therefore fired a shot to collect my scattered men,
and in about half an hour we all joined together, except the camels and
their drivers, that we had left miles behind.
No one had tasted food since the previous day, nor had I drunk water,
although the sun had been burning hot; I now obtained some muddy rain
water from a puddle, and we went towards home, where we arrived at
half-past eight, every one tired with the day's work. The camels came
into camp about an hour later.
My men were all now wonderfully brave; each had some story of a narrow
escape, and several declared that the elephants had run over them, but
fortunately without putting their feet upon them.
The news spread through the town that the elephant was killed; and, long
before daybreak on the following morning, masses of natives had started
for the jungles, where they found him lying dead. Accordingly, they
stole his magnificent tusks, which they carried to the town of Wakkala,
and confessed to taking all the flesh, but laid the blame of the ivory
theft upon the Wakkala tribe.
Pages:
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290