Stanley's Story; Or, Through the Wilds of Africa: A Thrilling Narrative of His Remarkable Adventures, Terrible Experiences, Wonderful Discoveries and Amazing Achievements in the Dark ContinentFeather, A. G., Col.
History
Stanley's Story; Or, Through the Wilds of Africa: A Thrilling Narrative of His Remarkable Adventures, Terrible Experiences, Wonderful Discoveries and Amazing Achievements in the Dark Continent
Feather, A. G., Col.
Africa, Central -- Description and travel; Livingstone, David, 1813-1873; Stanley, Henry M. (Henry Morton), 1841-1904
“The elephant held on through the forest at a sweeping pace; but he was
hardly out of sight when I was loaded and in the saddle, and soon once
more alongside. He kept crashing along at a steady pace, with blood
streaming from his wounds. It was long before I again fired, for I was
afraid to dismount, and ‘Sunday’ was extremely troublesome. At length I
fired sharp right and left from the saddle: he got both balls behind the
shoulder, and made a long charge after me, rumbling and trumpeting as
before. The whole body of the Bamangwato men had now come up, and were
following a short distance behind me. Among these was Mollyeon, who
volunteered to help; and being a very swift and active fellow, he
rendered me important service by holding my fidgety horse’s head while I
fired and loaded. I then fired six broadsides from the saddle, the
elephant charging almost every time, and pursuing us back to the main
body in our rear, who fled in all directions as he approached.
“The sun had now sunk behind the tops of the trees; it would very soon
be dark, and the elephant did not seem much distressed, notwithstanding
all he had received. I recollected that my time was short, and therefore
at once resolved to fire no more from the saddle, but to go close up to
him and fire on foot. Riding up to him, I dismounted and, approaching
very near, I gave it him right and left in the side of the head, upon
which he made a long and determined charge after me; but I was now very
reckless of his charges, for I saw that he could not overtake me, and
in a twinkling I was loaded, and, again approaching, fired sharp right
and left behind his shoulder. Again he charged with a terrific trumpet,
which sent ‘Sunday’ flying through the forest. This was his last charge.
The wounds which he had received began to tell on his constitution, and
he now stood at bay beside a thorny tree, with the dogs barking around
him. These, refreshed by the evening breeze, and perceiving that it was
nearly over with the elephant, had once more come to my assistance.
Having loaded, I drew near and fired right and left at his forehead. On
receiving these shots, instead of charging, he tossed his trunk up and
down, and by various sounds and motions, most gratifying to the hungry
natives, evinced that his demise was near. Again I loaded and fired my
last shot behind his shoulder: on receiving it, he turned round the
bushy tree beside which he stood, and I ran round to give the other
barrel, but the mighty old monarch of the forest needed no more; before
I could clear the bushy tree he fell heavily on his side, and his spirit
had fled.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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