They might have remained longer on the ground lamenting this irreparable
loss, but that they were still apprehensive of the return of the
elephant. Whither had it gone? That was the question which one was
addressing to the other, while the eyes of all kept turning in different
directions, and with glances that betrayed their uneasiness.
The rogue could not have been off the ground more than a very few
minutes: the grass that he had trampled down was still wet with its own
sap, crushed out by his ponderous weight. And yet he might have been
seen all around for nearly a quarter of a mile's distance. There was no
timber within that distance that could have given concealment to an
animal so bulky as an elephant?
So thought Karl and Caspar; but Ossaroo was of a different opinion. The
bit of jungle through which they had passed would suffice to screen the
rogue, said he: adding at the same time a piece of intelligence derived
from his shikaree experience: that an elephant, large as it is, can hide
in a slight cover with wonderful cunning; that its sagacity enables it
to select the best place for concealment; and that, although it neither
crouches nor squats, it contrives, by keeping perfectly still--added to
the circumstance of its being a shapeless sort of mass--ofttimes to
elude the eye of the most vigilant hunter. Though Karl and Caspar could
scarcely credit him, Ossaroo expressed his belief, not only that the
elephant might be hid in the scant jungle they were talking about, but
that it actually _was_ there.
Unfortunately for them, Ossaroo's argument was too soon to be supported
by facts which left no doubt of its accuracy. As they stood scanning
the jungle with keen glances, and with ears acutely bent to catch every
sound that might issue from it, a movement was perceptible among the
tops of some tall saplings that grew near its centre. In the next
moment a brace of the beautiful argus pheasants rose on whirring wing,
at the same time giving forth their loud note of alarm.
The birds, forsaking the jungle, in their flight passed over the heads
of our adventurers, and by their cries caused such a clangour as to set
Fritz off into a prolonged fit of baying.
Whether it was that the enemy had been only lying in ambush, waiting for
a good opportunity to charge, or whether the voice of the dog--already
known and hated--had been just then heard by the elephant, stirring him
to a fresh thirst for vengeance, certain it is, that before a sentence
could be exchanged among the terrified trio, the long conical trunk and
broad massive shoulders were visible through the scanty jungle; and it
was plain to all that the monster was making towards them with that
deceptive shamble which, though only a walk, carries the huge quadruped
over the ground almost with the speed of a galloping horse.
For a moment our adventurers stood their ground--not, however, with any
idea of awaiting the attack or attempting to repel it; but simply
because they knew not in what direction to retreat.
So dismayed were they at the sight of the advancing enemy, that it was
some seconds before any of the three could suggest a plan that offered a
prospect of escape. Rather mechanically than otherwise did Karl and
Caspar bring their pieces to the level, with the intention of firing in
the face of the foe: for they had but little hope that the lead from
their guns, both of light calibre, would stop his impetuous charge.
Both fired at the same instant; and then Caspar delivered his second
shot; but, just as they had expected, the elephant continued to charge
onward.
Fortunately for them, the shikaree had not condescended to draw the
string of his bow. Experience had taught him that under such
circumstances an arrow was an useless weapon. He might as well have
attempted to kick the elephant, or stick a pin into its trunk; either of
which proceedings would have damaged the animal nearly as much, and
perhaps irritated it a little less, than would one of Ossaroo's arrows.
Knowing this, the shikaree, instead of bothering himself with his bow,
or wasting time by any thoughts of resistance, had occupied the few
seconds left for consideration in a rapid reconnoissance of the
neighbourhood--to see if it offered any chance of escape.
To tell the truth, the vicinity appeared rather unpromising. The cliffs
offered no ledge upon which they might have climbed out of reach of the
rogue, the jungle might have afforded them a temporary shelter; but
although it had concealed the elephant from their eyes, it could not
long conceal them from the eyes of such a sagacious creature as their
antagonist appeared to be. Besides, the elephant was between them and
it, and to retreat in that direction would be to run point blank upon
its proboscis!
Fortunately in this moment of uncertainty and irresolution a point of
safety appeared to the eye of the shikaree, in the shape of a tree--the
only one near the spot. It was a tree that had already been
instrumental in saving his life: for it was the same that stood by the
little straits where Ossaroo had set his nets, and by means of which
Caspar had been enabled to hoist him up out of the quicksand.
This tree was a very large one; and standing alone, its branches, free
to extend their growth, had spread far out in every direction, almost
stretching across the straits.
Ossaroo wasted not the precious moments in idle reflection, but shouting
to the young sahibs, and signalling them to follow his example, he
struck off towards the tree with all the speed that lay in his legs; and
not till he had got up to the third or fourth tier of branches did he
look behind him, to see whether his advice had been taken.
The young sahibs had adopted his suggestion with alacrity, without
staying a moment to question its propriety; and both were up the tree
almost as soon as the shikaree himself.