I received a note one morning before breakfast from a true sportsman, informing me that he knew of a large herd of elephants in the Berea, and, if I would join him, he hoped that we might get a shot at them. This proposition, from our ignorance of all the artifices necessary in the bush, was rather rash, as elephant-shooting is always dangerous sport, and when attempted by novices on foot in a dense bush against a very savage herd, it becomes still more so. Elephants are generally hunted in Africa on horseback. The Dutchmen, who frequently obtain their living by this sport only, are amongst the most accomplished hands; they make periodical trips into the uninhabited districts, or where elephants are numerous, and the country open or park-like. When a herd of elephants is discovered, these Boers make a plan of attack, either to drive the herd of game to a better and more open country, or to prevent them from retreating to the dense bushes near. As soon as everything suits, they mark out the leader of the troop, generally the biggest bull-elephant. They then ride up as near as they dare, and give him a volley; if he falls, they can manage the remainder more easily, as, missing their chief, some confusion takes place. Should he, however, be only wounded, turn savage, and charge, as is most frequently the case, they close together, and gallop away for a hundred yards or so, when, at a given signal, they separate, and ride round in different directions. This diversion generally puzzles the elephant, and, before he has made up his mind what to do, another broadside is poured into him. Two or three volleys are generally sufficient to quiet the big bull. I have been assured by many old elephant-hunters that they have frequently seen a herd of elephants stand with their heads together, after the leader has been killed, as though in despair, and they would not make a rush: these may be pleasant, but are undoubtedly rare, chances for the pot-hunter. Gordon Cumming's plan of lying in wait for the elephants at their drinking-place was a bold and successful plan. I cannot but think him a very lucky man never to have had a wounded bull charge him then; had one done so, I fear we should not have had his amusing lectures, or his own account of his wonderful sport. Many methods of elephant-hunting may never have come to light, owing to the enterprising sportsman having been crushed to death by his infuriated game before he had an opportunity of making public his experience. An elephant can run very fast, and moves with surprising ease and silence. I remember hearing tales as a boy of the elephant's beginning to turn early in the morning, and managing to finish his gymnastic performance by mid-day; the wily hunter, therefore, by keeping behind, him was always safe.