We
had ridden about a mile, and were beginning to despair, when
suddenly we turned a sharp angle in the watercourse, and Taher
Sheriff, who was leading, immediately reined in his horse, and
backed him towards the party. I followed his example, and we were
at once concealed by the sharp bend of the river. He now
whispered, that a bull elephant was drinking from a hole it had
scooped in the sand, not far round the corner. Without the
slightest confusion, the hunters at once fell quietly into their
respective places, Taher Sheriff leading, while I followed
closely in the line, with my Tokrooris bringing up the rear; we
were a party of seven horses.
Upon turning the corner, we at once perceived the elephant, that
was still drinking. It was a fine bull; the enormous ears were
thrown forward, as the head was lowered in the act of drawing up
the water through the trunk; these shaded the eyes, and, with the
wind favourable, we advanced noiselessly upon the sand to within
twenty yards before we were perceived. The elephant then threw up
its head, and, with the ears flapping forward, it raised its
trunk for an instant, and then slowly, but easily, ascended the
steep bank, and retreated.
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