assistance.

First we lifted him up bodily, and held him, to remove the strain.
Then, by good luck, we had at hand a stout iron bar with a U-
shaped end; and with that under the injured wrist, and a crowbar
to spring the treacherous overhang, we lifted the foot clear, and
lowered little Brownie to the floor. From first to last he helped
us all he could, and seemed to realize that it was clearly "no
fair" to bite or scratch. Fortunately the leg was neither broken
nor dislocated, and although Brownie limped for ten days, he soon
was all right again.

After the incident had been closed, I gave the men a brief lecture
on the language of bears, and the necessity of being able to
recognize the distress call.

You can chase bison, elephants and deer all day without hearing a
single vocal utterance. They know through long experience the
value of silence.

The night after I shot my second elephant we noted an exception.
The herd had been divided by our onslaught. Part of it had gone
north, part of it south, and our camp for the night (beside the
dead tusker) lay midway between the two. About bedtime the
elephants began signalling to each other by trumpeting, and what
they sounded was "The assembly." They called and answered
repeatedly; and finally it became clear to my native followers
that the two herds were advancing to unite, and were likely to
meet in our vicinity. That particular trumpet call was different
from any other I have ever heard. It was a regular "Hello" signal-