About an hour passed away, when the signal was given by some of the native Caffres, who had gained the side of the valley to westward of the elephants. Perched up at various high spots, they shouted with stentorian lungs, and their shouts were answered by the rest of the Caffres on every side of the valley, so that the elephants found themselves encompassed on all sides, except on that where the hill rose from the valley. As the Caffres closed in, their shouts reverberating from the rocks, and mixed up with the savage howlings of the dogs, became tremendous; and the elephants, alarmed, started first to one side of the valley, then to the other, hastily retreating from the clamor immediately raised as they approached, shaking their long ears and trumpeting loudly, as with uplifted trunks they trotted to and fro.
At last, finding no other avenue of escape, the herd commenced the ascent of the hill, cracking the branches and boughs, and rolling the loose stones down into the valleys, as they made their ascent, and now adding their own horrid shrieks to the din which had been previously created. On they came, bearing every thing down before them, carrying havoc in their rage to such an extent, that the forest appeared to bow down before them; while large masses of loose rock leaped and bounded and thundered down into the valley, raising clouds of dust in their passage.
“This is tremendously grand,” whispered Alexander to the Major.
“It is most awfully so; I would not have missed the sight for any thing; but here they come—look at that tall tree borne down by the weight of the whole mass.”
“See the great bull leader,” said Swinton; “let us all fire upon him—what a monster!”
“Look out,” said the Major, whose rifle was discharged as he spoke, and was quickly followed by those of Alexander and Swinton.
“He’s down; be quick and load again. Omrah, give me the other rifle.”
“Take care! take care!” was how cried on all sides, for the fall of the leading elephant and the volleys of musketry from the Hottentots had so frightened the herd, that they had begun to separate and break off two or three together, or singly in every direction. The shrieks and trumpetings, and the crashing of the boughs so near to them, were now deafening; and the danger was equally great. The Major had but just leveled his other rifle when the dense foliage close to him opened as if by magic, and the head of a large female presented itself within four yards of him.
Fortunately, the Major was a man of great nerve, and his rifle brought her down at his feet, when so near to him that he was compelled to leap away out of the reach of her trunk, for she was not yet dead. Another smaller elephant followed so close, that it tumbled over the carcass of the first, and was shot by Alexander as it was recovering its legs.
“Back, sirs, or you will be killed,” cried Bremen, running to them; “this way—the whole herd is coming right upon you.” They ran for their lives, following the Hottentot, who brought them to a high rock which the elephants could not climb, and where they were safe.