A second passed, and he pitched upon his head and lay upon the ground, struggling in vain to rise.

This was an immensely long shot to produce so immediate an effect so reloading quickly I stepped the distance.

I measured 352 paces, and I then stood within ten yards of him, as he still lay upon the ground, endeavouring vainly to rush at me.

A ball in his head settled him.

The first shot had broken his hind leg--and the shot with the big rifle had hit him on the nose, and, tearing away the upper jaw, it had passed along his neck and escaped from behind his shoulder.