Once, towards the end of the cholera epidemic, he went out to his shooting-box at Pul-i-Bagrami, about six miles north-east of Kabul, and stayed there for several weeks, his attendants, together with the officials and guards, having to live under canvas, where they had a cold time of it as the winter approached. While there, one of the state elephants went “mast” (mad) and, killing his mahout, raged through the camp, putting all to flight who came in his way. The Amir’s shagrassi, a relation of his own, and by way of being a bit mad-headed himself, called to the Amir that he would kill the elephant, and, seizing his sword and springing on his horse, he shouted to some twenty sowars or so to follow him, and together they charged over to the elephant, but the latter, when he saw them, charged them in turn. The Afghan horses cannot stand elephants, and scattered in all directions when they saw him coming down on them, and for the next few minutes the scene was a lively one, with the elephant chasing first one and then the other, while the frantic efforts of men and horses to get out of the way, jumping ditches and watercourses, and crashing through the hedges of young trees about, caused a good deal of laughter from the onlookers in spite of the danger they ran. Eventually the elephant was lured to a deep pit which had been dug for him and covered over with boughs and grass, and there he fell in and lay, trapped. After some consultation it was decided to give the elephant four pounds of camphor, four pounds of opium, and four pounds of chirs (a preparation from hemp something like opium), to quieten its lust; and this was done. Next morning the elephant was dead, and this was an unlooked-for result, although it was a natural one when the quantities of the drugs are considered; however, the Afghans believe in large doses of medicine to effect a real cure.