Accordingly I led the way, followed by Hadji Ali, my head Tokroori, with a rifle, while I carried the “Baby.” Florian accompanied us. Having the wind fair, we advanced quickly for about half the distance, at which time we were within a hundred and fifty yards of the elephant, who had just arrived at the water and had commenced drinking. We now crept cautiously toward him. The sand-bank had decreased to a height of about two feet, and afforded very little shelter. Not a tree or bush grew upon the surface of the barren sand, which was so deep that we sank nearly to the ankles at every footstep. Still we crept forward, as the elephant alternately drank and then spouted the water in a shower over his colossal form; but just as we arrived within about fifty yards he happened to turn his head in our direction, and immediately perceived us. He cocked his enormous ears, gave a short trumpeting, and for an instant wavered in his determination whether to attack or fly; but as I rushed toward him with a shout, he turned toward the jungle, and I immediately fired a steady shot at the shoulder with the “Baby.” As usual, the fearful recoil of the rifle, with a half-pound shell and twelve drams of powder, nearly threw me backward; but I saw the mark upon the elephant’s shoulder, in an excellent line, although rather high. The only effect of the shot was to send him off at great speed toward the jungle. At the same moment the three aggageers came galloping across the sand like greyhounds in a course, and, judiciously keeping parallel with the jungle, they cut off his retreat, and, turning toward the elephant, confronted him, sword in hand.