e elephant camp, I saw the huge
trees which he had smashed down in his rage lying about in all
directions, and on reaching his standing-place, found him looking
decidedly vicious and bad-tempered. It was quite evident that any one
venturing within reach of his trunk would receive harsh treatment and no
mercy. A small red spot in his great forehead showed that our
Director's aim had been a fairly good one, though it had not hit the
deadly spot in the centre."

"But I want to know," said Junkie, who kept close to Jackman's side,
thirsting for every word that fell from his lips, "why did the bullet
not go in and kill Bowly Muksh?"

"Because the head of Mowla Buksh was too thick," said Jackman, laughing.
"You see, to be a thick-head is not always a disadvantage."

"There, you ought to take comfort from that, Junkie," remarked his
brother Archie, with that fine spirit of tenderness which is so often
observable in brothers.

"Ha! ha! ha!" yelled Eddie, with that delicacy of feeling which is
equally common.

"Hold your tongues!" growled Junkie--the more classic "shut up" not
having at that time found its way to the Western Isles.

"You must know, Junkie, that all parts of an elephant's head are not of
equal thickness," said Jackman in that kindly confidential tone which
tends so powerfully to soothe a ruffled spirit. "The only point in an
elephant's forehead that can be pierced by a rifle ball is exactly in
the centre. It is about the size of a saucer, and if you miss that, you
might as well fire against the Eagle Cliff itself, for the ball would
only stick in the skull."

With this explanation Junkie was fain to rest content at the time, for
the party had reached a part of the hill where it became necessary to
station the guns at their several posts. In regard to this drive, we
have only to say that it ended in nothing except heavy rain and a severe
draft on the patience of the sportsmen, without any reward, save that
which may be derived from mild martyrdom.

Now, when the events which we have described were taking place on the
mountains of Loch Lossie, a very different scene was occurring in the
nursery of Kinlossie House. In that interesting apartment, which was
one of the chief country residences of the spirits Row and Smash, little
Flora was seated all alone in the afternoon of that day. Her seat was a
low chair, before her was a low table to match. On the table sat her
favourite doll, Blackie, to whom