The wind was pretty brisk, and the ant-hills effectually concealed us till we were within seven paces of our game.

The two leaders then both dropped dead to the front shot, and the fun began.

The guns were so well handed up, that we knocked over the six elephants before they had given us a run of twenty yards, and we all closed up and ran under the tail of the retreating elephant that we had devoted to the ropes.

He was going at about seven miles an hour; we therefore had no difficulty in keeping up with him, as we could run between the ant-hills much faster than he could.

The ropes were in readiness, and with great dexterity, one of the Moormen slipped a noose over one of his hind feet, as he raised it from the ground; and drawing it tight, he dropped his coil.