ething had
frightened him, or perhaps owing to the shock of my bullet striking on
his tusk having jarred the brain, suddenly pulled up, sliding along a
little with all his four feet together, till I thought he was going to
sit down like a performing elephant. Then it appeared to me as though
Mameena turned round very slowly, bent towards me, whispering something
which I could not hear although her lips moved, looked at me sweetly
with those wonderful eyes of hers and vanished away.

A fraction of a second later all this vision had gone and something that
was no vision took its place. Jana had recovered himself and was at me
again with open mouth and lifted trunk. I heard a Dutch curse and saw
a little yellow form; saw Hans, for it was he, thrust the barrels of
my second elephant rifle almost into that red cave of a mouth, which
however they could not reach, and fire, first one barrel, then the
other.

Another moment, and the mighty trunk had wrapped itself about Hans and
hurled him through the air to fall on to his head and arms thirty or
forty feet away.

Jana staggered as though he too were about to fall; recovered himself,
swerved to the right, perhaps to follow Hans, stumbled on a few paces,
missing me altogether, then again came to a standstill. I wriggled
myself round and, seated on the pavement of the court, watched what
followed, and glad am I that I was able to do so, for never shall I
behold such another scene.

First I saw Ragnall run up with a rifle and fire two barrels at the
brute's head, of which he took no notice whatsoever. Then I saw his
wife, who in this land was known as the Guardian of the Child, issuing
from the portals of the second court, dressed in her goddess robes,
wearing the cap of bird's feathers, attended by the two priestesses also
dressed as goddesses, as we had seen her on the morning of sacrifice,
and holding in front of her the statue of the Ivory Child.

On she came quite quietly, her wide, empty eyes fixed upon Jana. As she
advanced the monster seemed to grow uneasy. Turning his head, he lifted
his trunk and thrust it along his back until it gripped the ankle of the
King Simba, who all this while was seated there in his chair making no
movement.

With a slow, steady pull he dragged Simba from the chair so that he fell
upon the ground near his left foreleg. Next very composedly he wound his
trunk about the body of the helpless man, whose horrified eyes I can see
to this day,