ove which had
before concealed them, several more rushed out.

"They see us!" cried my uncle. "We must get up among the branches and
shoot them as they pass, for they will not let us escape as easily as
before."

Fortunately, near at hand was a tree, up which, without much difficulty,
we could make our way. My uncle, going up first, helped me to follow
him.

Scarcely had we secured ourselves when the elephants came up with their
trunks sticking out and trumpeting as loudly as before. As they kept
their eyes on the ground, they did not see us. We fired at them as they
passed.

We remained for some time expecting the wounded elephant to follow its
companions, but as it did not we began to hope that it had succumbed,
and that we might find it dead in the neighbourhood. We were about to
descend to look for it, when the heads of three giraffes, or
camelopards, as they are sometimes called, appeared among the trees; the
animals lifting up their tall necks to crop the leaves as they advanced.
As they were coming in our direction we agreed to wait. By descending
we might frighten them. In a short time one separated from the others,
and got so close that my uncle could not resist the temptation of
firing. As the shot entered its neck the graceful animal sank down to
the ground, and lay perfectly dead. The other two trotted off to a
short distance, alarmed by the report; but, seeing no human foe and not
knowing what had happened to their companion, they stopped and continued
browsing on the leaves as before.

"The chances are that they will soon come this way, and so we cannot do
better than remain where we are," observed my uncle.

We sat some time watching the graceful creatures as they stretched up
their long necks to a remarkable height, in search of the young shoots
and leaves. Presently we saw one of them turn its head and look towards
its dead companion. The next moment a lion burst out from among the
bushes and sprang towards the giraffe on the ground. I had fancied that
lions never condescended to feast on a dead animal; but probably there
was still some little life in the giraffe, or, at all events, having
only just been killed, the carcase could have had no savoury odour.
Directly afterwards we heard a roar, and another lion sprang from the
cover, the first replying with a roar which made the welkin ring. If we
could not kill the lions, it was evident that we should soon have none
of the meat to ca