So fast fled he, that in less than a score of seconds he was out of sight--not only of his masters in the tree, but of his pursuer, the elephant.

The latter only followed him for some half-dozen lengths of its own carcase; and seeing that the pursuit was likely to be a wild-goose chase, declined following Fritz any farther.
They in the tree, as the elephant started after the dog, were in hopes that the pursuit might carry the dangerous animal to some distance, and thus give them time to get back to the ground, and make their escape from the spot.
In this, however, they were doomed to disappointment; for having desisted from the chase of the dog, the great pachyderm returned to the point from whence it had started; and, after once more tossing the broken branches of the fallen chestnut tree upon the point of its proboscis, it commenced pacing round and round the fallen obelisk, keeping in regular circles, as if it were training itself for some performance in an amphitheatre.
For more than an hour did the brute continue this circular promenade, at intervals stopping to give utterance to its shrieking note; but most of the time moving on in sullen silence.

Now and then it directed its eyes, and once or twice its trunk, towards the branches of the prostrate tree as if it had still some suspicion that he who sent that stinging arrow was there concealed.

Indeed, it appeared by its movements to be keeping guard over that particular spot, lest its enemy should escape.
It had long since extracted the arrow, by placing its great foot upon the shaft, and drawing it forth.
Fritz had stolen back to the edge of the thicket, but kept cowering so close that the elephant could not see him.
The parties perched above were more than annoyed by their imprisonment thus procrastinated, and began to think of how they might set themselves free.

They talked of making a rush to possess themselves of their guns; but to Karl this appeared too perilous to be attempted.