Crack went the four-ounce through his shoulder, and the three-ounce and No.

8, with a similar good intention, into his head.

Nevertheless he did not fall, but started off at a great pace, though stumbling nearly on his knees, his head and tail both hanging down, his trunk hanging listlessly upon the ground; and his ears, instead of being cocked, were pressed tightly back against his neck.

He did not look much like a rogue at that moment, with upwards of half a pound of lead in his carcass.

Still we could not get another shot at him before he reached a jungle about seventy paces distant; and here we stopped to load before we followed him, thinking that he was in dense chenar.