Fortunately for them, the shikaree had not condescended to draw the string of his bow. Experience had taught him that under such circumstances an arrow was an useless weapon. He might as well have attempted to kick the elephant, or stick a pin into its trunk; either of which proceedings would have damaged the animal nearly as much, and perhaps irritated it a little less, than would one of Ossaroo’s arrows. Knowing this, the shikaree, instead of bothering himself with his bow, or wasting time by any thoughts of resistance, had occupied the few seconds left for consideration in a rapid reconnoissance of the neighbourhood—to see if it offered any chance of escape.

To tell the truth, the vicinity appeared rather unpromising. The cliffs offered no ledge upon which they might have climbed out of reach of the rogue, the jungle might have afforded them a temporary shelter; but although it had concealed the elephant from their eyes, it could not long conceal them from the eyes of such a sagacious creature as their antagonist appeared to be. Besides, the elephant was between them and it, and to retreat in that direction would be to run point blank ............