By
this accident Richarn was disabled for some days.
Upon our arrival at the camp, there were great rejoicings among
our people at the result of the day's sport. Old Moosa, the half
fortune-teller, half priest, of the Tokrooris, had in our absence
employed himself in foretelling the number of elephants we should
kill. His method of conjuring was rather perplexing, and,
although a mystery beyond my understanding, it might be simple to
an English spiritualist or spirit-rapper; he had nevertheless
satisfied both himself and others, therefore the party had been
anxiously waiting our return to hear the result. Of course, old
Moosa was wrong, and of course he had a loop-hole for escape, and
thereby preserved his reputation. The aggageers expected to find
our wounded elephants on the following morning, if dead, by the
flights of vultures. That night the lions again serenaded us with
constant roaring, as they had still some bones to gnaw of the
buffalo's remains.
At daybreak the next morning, the aggageers in high glee mounted
their horses, and with a long retinue of camels, and men provided
with axes and knives, together with large gum sacks to contain
the flesh, they quitted the camp to cut up the numerous
elephants.
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