last, listened to the crashing and tearing noise caused by the herd flinging itself through the underwood, and fancied that they were charging down upon him full tilt. It is often well-nigh impossible in the jungle to tell the direction in which big game are moving when they are on the run, but this time the elephants had been seized with panic and were in desperate flight.
Over and over again, while the light of the moon still held, game of all kinds made its way to a point below the wind, whence to approach the salt lick, and each time the tainted wind told them that men were in possession. The savage blowing and snorting of the wild kine, the grunting protests of a herd of swine, the abrupt, startled bark of a stag, and many other jungle sounds all were heard in turn, and each was succeeded by the snapping of dry twigs or the crashing of rent underwood, which told of a hasty retreat.
At first Pandak Âris sought safety in the branches of the tree, but very soon the agony of discomfort caused by his uneasy seat and by the red ants which swarmed over him, biting like dogs, drove him once more to brave the perils of the earth.
At about 2:30 A. M. the moon sank to rest, and a black darkness, such as is only to be found at nighttime in a Malayan forest, shut down upon the land. Though Pandak Âris squatted or lay at the edge of the open, he could not distinguish the branches against the sky, nor see his own hand, when he waggled it before his eyes; and the impenetrable
