In every one encountered by him he had found an enemy; and in the last he met with a dread foe that soon made a finish of him.

This last was the elephant.
The great animal, rushing forward upon Fritz, seeing that the latter had escaped, was determined this time not to be baulked of a victim.
Instead of carrying out the design it had only partially resolved upon-- that of following Fritz into the forest--it suddenly altered its plan, and transferred its hostility to the panda.

It saw that the latter was within reach: for half blinded by the beak of the bird, and half worried to death by the dog, the creature did not perceive, as Fritz had done, the approach of the elephant.

It is possible it may have seen the danger, but not until the elephant had got in such dangerous proximity as left it no chance of escape.
Before the panda could make the slightest effort to get away from the ground, the elephant had lapped its prehensile proboscis around it, and lifted it into the air as if its body had been no heavier than a feather.

Holding it aloft, the merciless monster took several long strides in the direction of the fallen obelisk; and then, as if choosing a spot suitable for its design, it placed the still struggling body of the panda upon the ground, set its huge fore-feet upon it, and using them alternately, continued to trample it until the only vestige left of the crushed creature was a shapeless mass of fur and flesh! It was a painful spectacle to those in the tree; but it was succeeded by a sight that was pleasant to all three--the sight of the elephant's hind quarters as it walked off toward the woods, evidently with the intention of retiring from the ground.
Whether its vengeance had been satisfied by the destruction of the panda, or whether it had gone off in search of Fritz, none of the three could conjecture; but whatever may have been the motive, certain it is that it guided the rogue from the spot, and raised a siege that was on the point of becoming exceedingly irksome..