fight, and fight hard, for admission, which he can only gain by defeating
the bull that is its leader and tyrant. But that several herds should come
together--for that there were several was evident, since the greatest
strength of a herd rarely exceeds a hundred individuals--to meet an escaped
domesticated elephant, and apparently by appointment, was too fantastic to
be credited by any one acquainted with the habits of these animals. Yet
here it was happening before his eyes. The soldier gave up attempting to
understand it and simply accepted the fact.

He looked around him. There were elephants of every type, of all ages. Some
were very old, as he could tell from their lean, fleshless skulls, their
sunken temples and hollow eyes, emaciated bodies and straight, thin legs.
And the clearest proof of their age was their ears, which lapped over very
much at the top and were torn and ragged at the lower edges.

There were bull-elephants in the prime of life, from twenty-five to
thirty-five years old, with great heads, short, thick legs bowed out
with masses of muscle, and bodies with straight backs sloping to the
long, well-feathered tails. Most of them were tuskers--and the sight
of one magnificent bull near Dermot made the sportsman's trigger-finger
itch, so splendid were its tusks--shapely, spreading outward and upward
in a graceful sweep, and each nearly six feet in length along the
outside curve.

There was a large proportion of females and calves in the assemblage. The
youngest ones were about four or five months old. A few had not shed their
first woolly coat; and many of the male babies could not boast of even the
tiniest tusks.

Badshah was now completely surrounded, for the elephants had closed in on