, as nimble as a deer, tracking the gigantic
game like a blood-hound, falling behind as he comes up with it, and as
the elephants, baffled and irritated, make the first stand, passing one
rifle into your eager hand and holding the other ready whilst right and
left each barrel performs its mission, and if fortune does not flag, and
the second gun is as successful as the first, three or four huge
carcases are piled one on another within a space equal to the area of a
dining room."[1]

[Footnote 1: Private letter from Capt. PHILIP PAYNE GALLWEY.]

It is curious that in these encounters the herd never rush forward in a
body, as buffaloes or bisons do, but only one elephant at a time moves
in advance of the rest to confront, or, as it is called, to "charge,"
the assailants. I have heard of but one instance in which _two_ so
advanced as champions of their companions. Sometimes, indeed, the whole
herd will follow a leader, and manoeuvre in his rear like a body of
cavalry; but so large a party are necessarily liable to panic; and, one
of them having turned in alarm, the entire body retreat with terrified
precipitation.

As regards boldness and courage, a strange variety of temperament is
observable amongst elephants, but it may be affirmed that they are, much
more generally timid than courageous. One herd may be as difficult to
approach as deer, gliding away through the jungle so gently and quickly
that scarcely a trace marks their passage; another, in apparent stupor,
will huddle themselves together like swine, and allow their assailant to
come within a few yards before they break away in terror; and a third
will await his approach without motion, and then advance, with fury to
the "charge."

In individuals the same differences are discernible; one flies on the
first appearance of danger, whilst another, alone and unsupported, will
face a whole host of enemies. When wounded and infuriated with pain,
many of them become literally savage[1]; but, so unaccustomed are they
to act as assailants, and so awkward and inexpert in using their
strength, that they rarely or ever exceed in killing a pursuer who falls
into their power. Although the pressure of a foot, a blow with the
trunk, or a thrust with the tusk, could scarcely fail to prove fatal,
three-fourths of those who have fallen into their power have escaped
without serious injury. So great is this chance of impunity, that the
sportsman prefers to approach within about fifte