The larger the gun, the less opportunity there is of game escaping, to die a lingering death; and this generally decides the true sportsman. During the last decade, twelve-bore rifles were greatly used (1½ oz. ball), but these are rarely seen now. Sanderson, one of the best living authorities on the subject of hunting the Asiatic elephant, killed several of his first elephants with a No. 12 spherical-ball rifle with hard bullets and six drachms of powder. But this he discarded for a No. 4 double smooth bore, C. F., weighing nineteen and a half pounds, built by W. W. Greener. With this he fires twelve drachms of powder. Another gun, a No. 8 double rifle, firing twelve drachms, and weighing seventeen pounds, same make, he recommends, having stopped several charging elephants with it. No game in America requires such heavy arms, but the huge elephant demands weapons in proportion to its size. In the majority of animals, a shot in any vital part is sufficient to disable them to some extent: but, in Asiatic-elephant shooting, there are only three shots that can be depended upon; and the sportsman must be somewhat well acquainted with the anatomy of the animal to successfully make them. The three vulnerable spots are the front, the bullet striking the forehead; the side, or temple; and the rear, or behind the ear. The brain of the animal is the mark; and it is so small in proportion to the rest of the skull, that a slight change of position, either raising or depressing the head, will render the shot futile. This can be seen by examining a section of an elephant’s skull. (See Plate I.) [Illustration: PLATE X. HUNTING THE ELEPHANT WITH SWORDS. _Page 171._] The elephant sportsman usually makes elaborate preparations for the sport, taking a sufficient number of natives, servants, and trackers, with provisions to stay in the field some time; and only after some practice can he approach a herd, and pick out his shot, with any feeling of confidence. The true hunter disregards the females, seeking the old tuskers; and to approach a herd without giving the alarm requires great caution, and not a little experience. The great game is generally found moving gradually in a given direction, feeding as they go. If they are approached from the wind, they scent danger from afar: but the experienced hunter creeps up against the wind, and ordinary caution enables him to approach within thirty or forty feet,—quite near enough, my readers would think, when one knows, that, upon the first shot, the entire herd will charge madly in any and every direction. The old tuskers, the heads of the family, rarely cover the retreat of a herd when an attack is made, usually starting off on their own account, leaving the others to look out for themselves.