CHAPTER TWELVE.
A RING PERFORMANCE.
As the tree into which they had retreated was a very large one, there was no longer any present fear of danger from the elephant, however furious the latter might be; and they could look down upon it and watch its movements with a feeling of perfect security.

The only one of the party that was in dangerous proximity to that dreaded proboscis was Fritz; but Fritz had already been well warned of the wicked designs of the great brute, and was sufficiently swift-footed and sage enough to give the animal a wide berth.
As for the elephant itself, having recovered its feet, it stood for some seconds flapping its huge ears, and apparently in a kind of quandary--as if taken aback by the unexpected accident that had befallen it.

Not for long, however, did it continue in this tranquil attitude.

The arrow still sticking in its trunk reminded it of its purposes of vengeance.
Once more angrily elevating its tail, and sounding its shrill trumpet, it rushed towards the fallen tree, and buried its long proboscis among the branches.

One by one it turned them over, as if in search of some object.