As before stated, I have already published an account of these wonderful hunters in the Nile Tributaries of Abyssinia, and it is sufficient to describe them as the most fearless and active followers of the chase, armed with no other weapon than the long, straight, two-edged Arab sword, with which they attack all animals, from the elephant and rhinoceros to the lion and buffalo. The sword is sharpened to the finest degree, and the blade is protected for about six inches above the cross-hilt with thick string, bound tightly round so as to afford a grip for the right hand, while the left grips the hilt in the usual manner. This converts the ordinary blade into a two-handed sword, a blow from which will sever a naked man into two halves if delivered at the waist. It may be imagined that a quick cut from such a formidable weapon will at once divide the hamstring of any animal. The usual method of attacking the elephant is as follows:-Three, or at the most four mounted hunters sally forth in quest of game. When the fresh tracks of elephants are discovered they are steadily followed up until the herd, or perhaps the single animal, is found. If a large male with valuable tusks, it is singled out and separated from the herd. The leading hunter follows the retreating elephant, accompanied by his companions in single file. After a close hunt, keeping within 10 yards of the game, a sudden halt becomes necessary, as the elephant turns quickly round and faces its pursuers. The greatest coolness is required, as the animal, now thoroughly roused, is prepared to charge. The hunters separate to right and left, leaving the leader to face the elephant. After a few moments, during which the hunter insults the animal by shouting uncomplimentary remarks concerning the antecedents of its mother, and various personal allusions to imaginary members of the family, the elephant commences to back a half-dozen paces as a preliminary to a desperate onset. This is the well-known sign of the coming charge. A sharp shrill trumpet! and, with its enormous ears thrown forward, the great bull elephant rushes towards the apparently doomed horse. As quick as lightning the horse is turned, and a race commences along a course terribly in favour of the elephant, where deep ruts, thick tangled bush, and the branches of opposing trees obstruct both horse and rider. Everything now depends upon the sure-footedness of the horse and the cool dexterity of the rider. For the first 100 yards an elephant will follow at 20 miles an hour, which keeps the horse flying at top speed before it. The rider, even in this moment of great danger, looks behind him, and adapts his horse's pace so narrowly to that of his pursuer that the elephant's attention is wholly absorbed by the hope of overtaking the unhappy victim.