He halted, and the others followed his example. The natives had come to a stop some time before, and were huddled together in the jungle back of our friends, waiting to see the result of the white men's shots.
Tom, Ned, Mr. Damon, and the two older hunters were on an irregular line in the forest. Before them was the mass of elephants advancing slowly, and feeding on the tender leaves of trees as they came on. They would reach up with their long trunks, strip off the foliage, and stuff it into their mouths. Sometimes, they even pulled up small trees by the roots for the purpose of stripping them more easily.
"Jove! There are some big tuskers in that bunch!" cried Mr. Durban. "Aim for the bulls, everyone, don't kill the mothers or little ones." Tom now saw that there were a number of baby elephants in the herd, and he appreciated the hunter's desire to spare them and their mothers.
"Here we go!" exclaimed Mr. Durban, as he saw that Tom and the others were ready. "Aim! Fire!"
There were thundering reports that awoke the echoes of the jungle, and the sounds of the rifles were followed by shrill trumpets of rage. When the smoke blew away three elephants were seen prostrate, or, rather two, and part of
