Charlie ran to the man's side, but at a shout from Jack left him and sprang up. The rogue was not dead yet. Fighting to the last, he was trying to rise to his shattered knees, trumpeting till the woods rang again with the horrible screams. Jack was dashing around to his side for a finishing shot, and Charlie watched. Despite himself, he could not help feeling a throb of pity for the great animal, rogue and destroyer though he might be, struggling there so desperately to rise. And, impossible though it seemed, the elephant actually regained his feet. But even as he did so the shattered fore-legs crumpled up again, and with a low muttering moan of pain he went down. A moment later Jack fired, twice, placing each bullet behind the left shoulder. Charlie saw the mighty trunk go up, but no sound issued forth. The red eyes seemed to meet his as with one tremendous effort the rogue lurched up once more, then the huge ears sagged down, the trunk frothed forth bloody foam and fell in the dust, and with a single groan the elephant went over on his side, dead. Charlie's first thought was for Amir Ali. Reaching the man's side, he pulled the stopper from his canteen and poured water over the Gurkha's head, which was flowing with blood. The wound, however, proved to be slight and the man was but stunned. Charlie gazed down at the foot-long sliver of ivory, and rose. He felt unable to do more, and glanced around for Jack. The other was sitting in the grass, gazing at the dead rogue. Feeling his knees growing weak with the reaction, Charlie staggered to his side and sank down. For a few moments neither boy spoke. There was something terrible about having killed such an animal, something that oppressed them both with a feeling that it was not yet over, that at any moment he might rise and come at them. Charlie tried to speak, but his throat was dry. He had emptied his canteen over Amir, and caught that of Jack. Taking a swallow, he forced the water on Jack, and a moment later the boys rose to their feet. "I'm kind of sorry," was all Jack could find to say, as he stared down at the brute who had lived so badly and died so well. Charlie shared his feeling, but a moment later a loud gun-shot came to his ears. He remembered the other party, and raising his gun, fired twice in the air. "Buck up, old man," he said, with a shaky laugh. "The General will be here in a minute, and he'll give us what for. The old boy died game, Jack--but he had it coming to him. Just remember Mowbray." Jack nodded without speaking. Then, from the forest, not behind but ahead of them, broke a group of yelling Masai headed by Bakari, running on the spoor of the rogue elephant. Behind, trying to hold them back from too close pursuit, ran the figure of Schoverling.