came to die.

He looked instinctively towards the aged animals, which alone had
gone forward among the bones. And, as he gazed, one of them stumbled,
recovered its footing, staggered on a few paces, then stopped and slowly
sank to the ground. It laid its head down and stretched out its limbs.
Tremors shook the huge body; then it lay still as though asleep.
A second old elephant, and a third, stood for a moment, then slowly
subsided. Another and another did the same; until finally all of them
lay stretched out motionless--lifeless, dark spots on the white floor
that was composed of bones of countless generations of their kind.

There was a strange impressiveness about the solemn passing of these great
beasts. It affected the human spectator almost painfully. The hush of this
fatal valley, the long line of elephants watching the death of their
kindred, the pathos of the end of the stately animals which in obedience to
some mysterious impulse, had struggled through many difficulties only to
lie down here silently, uncomplainingly, and give up their lives, all
stirred Dermot strangely. And when the thought of the incalculable wealth
that lay in the vast quantity of ivory stored in this great charnel-house
flashed through his mind, he felt that it would be a shameful desecration,
inviting the wrath of the gods, to remove even one tusk of it.

He was not left long to gaze and wonder at the weird scene. To his relief
Badshah suddenly turned and passed through the trees again towards the
tunnelled entrance, and the hundreds of other elephants followed him in
file. In a few minutes Dermot found himself plunged into darkness once
more, and the Valley of Death had disappeared.

When they had passed through the tunnel, the elephants slipped and stumbled