As soon as he had seen the elephant fairly locked in the deadly embrace of that quicksand that had so nearly engulfed his own precious person, he lowered himself nimbly down from the branches.
For some moments he stood upon the bank, watching the futile efforts which the animal was making to free itself, all the while talking to it, and taunting it with spiteful speeches--for Ossaroo had been particularly indignant at the loss of his skirt.

When at length the last twelve inches of the elephant's trunk was all that remained above the surface, the shikaree could hold back no longer.

Drawing his long knife, he rushed out into the water; and, with one clean cut, severed the muscular mass from its supporting stem, as a sickle would have levelled some soft succulent weed.
The parted tube sank instantly to the bottom; a few red bubbles rose to the surface; and these were the last tokens that proclaimed the exit of that great elephant from the surface of the earth.

It had gone down into the deep sands, there to become fossilised--perhaps after the lapse of many ages to be turned up again by the spade and pick-axe of some wondering quarry-man.
Thus by a singular accident were our adventurers disembarrassed of a disagreeable neighbour--or rather, a dangerous enemy--so dangerous, indeed, that had not some chance of the kind turned up in their favour, it is difficult to conjecture how they would have got rid of it.

It was no longer a question of pouring bullets into its body, and killing it in that way.