[*] The Editor would have been inclined to think that in relating this incident Mr. Quatermain was making himself interesting at the expense of the exact truth, did it not happen that a similar incident has come within his knowledge.—­Editor.

“Presently, from a walk, as the wounded elephant gathered himself together a little, they broke into a trot, and after that I could follow them no longer with my eyes, for the second black cloud came up over the moon and put her out, as an extinguisher puts out a dip.  I say with my eyes, but my ears gave me a very fair notion of what was going on.  When the cloud came up the three terrified animals were heading directly for the kraal, probably because the way was open and the path easy.  I fancy that they grew confused in the darkness, for when they came to the kraal fence they did not turn aside, but crashed straight through it.  Then there were ‘times,’ as the Irish servant-girl says in the American book.  Having taken the fence, they thought that they might as well take the kraal also, so they just ran over it.  One hive-shaped hut was turned quite over on to its top, and when I arrived upon the scene the people who had been sleeping there were bumbling about inside like bees disturbed at night, while two more were crushed flat, and a third had all its side torn out.  Oddly enough, however, nobody was hurt, though several people had a narrow escape of being trodden to death.

“On arrival I found the old head man in a state painfully like that favoured by Greek art, dancing about in front of his ruined abodes as vigorously as though he had just been stung by a scorpion.

“I asked him what ailed him, and he burst out into a flood of abuse.  He called me a Wizard, a Sham, a Fraud, a Bringer of bad luck!  I had promised to kill the elephants, and I had so arranged things that the elephants had nearly killed him, etc.

“This, still smarting, or rather aching, as I was from that most terrific bump, was too much for my feelings, so I just made a rush at my friend, and getting him by the ear, I banged his head against the doorway of his own hut, which was all that was left of it.

“‘You wicked old scoundrel,’ I said, ’you dare to complain about your own trifling inconveniences, when you gave me a rotten beam to sit on, and thereby delivered me to the fury of the elephant’ (bump! bump! bump!), ‘when your own wife’ (bump!) ’has just been dragged out of her hut’ (bump!) ’like a snail from its shell, and thrown by the Earth-shaker into a tree’ (bump! bump!).

“‘Mercy, my father, mercy!’ gasped the old fellow.  ’Truly I have done amiss—­my heart tells me so.’

“‘I should hope it did, you old villain’ (bump!).

“’Mercy, great white man!  I thought the log was sound.  But what says the unequalled chief—­is the old woman, my wife, indeed dead?  Ah, if she is dead all may yet prove to have been for the very best;’ and he clasped his hands and looked up piously to heaven, in which the moon was once more shining brightly.