CHAPTER XIX
A SHOT IN TIME
Cautiously the moving picture boys made their way along the elephant trail. They had two cameras with them, for they remembered the accident that had interfered with their getting a film of the charge of the rhinoceros, when the celluloid broke at a critical moment.
“Though I don’t know that I care for an elephant charge,” said Blake, grimly. “A rhino is bad enough, but an elephant is about three times as big, and so must be three times as bad when he comes after you.”
“More than three times as bad,” declared Sergeant Hotchkiss; “especially if it’s a rogue elephant.”
“What kind is that?” asked Joe.
“It’s a solitary elephant, who, for some reason or other, likes to flock by himself,” explained the former soldier. “He gets unreasoning fits of rage, if elephants ever do reason, and runs amuck, just like some of the Malay natives. He’ll charge a stone wall, if he takes a notion, and once he gets after a hunter it’s all up with the man unless he can make a kill or reach shelter. But I don’t imagine there’ll be any in this herd. As I said, they usually go about by themselves.”
The natives of the expedition had been left behind, so as to render the noise of the advance less loud, and the only ones in the party were the whites, the two boys, Mr. Duncan, C. C. and the sergeant. The three latter carried guns, while the two lads had all they could manage with their cameras.
“We will only shoot one, unless there is danger,” said the former soldier; “as that will give us meat enough.”
Carefully they advanced, until presently they could hear the noise made by the big beasts as they fed, pulling off branches of the trees, breaking small trunks and limbs under their ponderous feet, or with their trunks.
“There they are!” suddenly whispered the sergeant, as he motioned to the others to come to a halt. He pointed through an opening in the trees, and there they all saw the herd feeding in a little glade, up to the edge of which the jungle trees came.
“Now if we can only get some pictures!” said Blake.
“We’d better climb a tree,” suggested Joe. “Then we can get a better view.”
“There’s a good one over there,” suggested C. C.
“I’ll take that,” spoke Joe, “and, Blake, you can get in the one next to me. We’ll work one camera, but if anything happens to that we’ll have the other in reserve.”
So it was arranged, and soon the two lads were making their way up into the trees, moving as cautiously as possible. There were low branches which made the ascent comparatively easy, and they carried with them light but strong cords, by which their cameras could be hoisted up. They could not use the tripods, but hoped, by resting the machines on a limb, to make them steady enough.
“Oh, this is a fine view!” cautiously called Blake to his chum, it being agreed that Blake was to make the first try for the pictures.
“Yes, and I have a good one, too. If you break a film or anything else happens, I can go right on from where you leave off,” answered Joe.
The elephants, a score or more, totally unconscious of the nearness of their deadly foe--man--were contentedly feeding. In this case they need have nothing to fear, for the hunting party of our friends was not organized for needless slaughter. One beast for food was what they had limited themselves to.
It was a curious sight, and as Blake reeled off the film he could not but feel glad that he had the opportunity of seeing the huge beasts in their native wild. Some were feeding, and others were rubbing themselves against trees to scratch their thick hides, often infected with ticks or other jungle parasites.
They ate in a peculiar manner. Reaching up with their trunks they would pull off big branches. Holding to one end of these they would put the foliage of the branch in their mouths and pull it out as one would a bunch of currants, thus stripping off the tender leaves, which they munched contentedly, casting aside the now useless branch.
Blake was making picture after picture, getting some rare ones. The wind continued to blow from the elephants to the boys, bringing with it a strong animal odor, but preventing the huge beasts from scenting their watchers. On the ground below stood C. C. Piper, Mr. Hotchkiss and Mr. Duncan, with their guns ready for any emergency. They were going to try for a shot at the beasts when the films were completed.
“I guess I’ve got enough,” said Blake. “I’ll get down now. The elephants are getting uneasy and it seems as if they were going to start off again.”
“Go ahead,” suggested Joe. “I’ll stay for a while and maybe I can get something different.”
Blake had lowered his camera to the ground and was about to descend himself, when, a short distance down, he slipped and fell with a crash. He was stunned for the moment, though not much hurt; but he made considerable noise.
Instantly the herd of elephants became aware of danger. The leader, a big bull, trumpeted shrilly and the others gathered together ready for a rush into the jungle.
“Get that view, Joe!” called Blake, as he staggered to his feet. As he did so he became aware of a sharp pain in his right ankle. He could not walk.
At that instant the big bull, hearing the lad’s voice, became aware of the location of his foes. Raising his trunk high and with open mouth, his big tusks standing out, the huge fellow rushed straight at Blake.
“Shoot! Shoot!” cried Mr. Duncan, who was so nervous that he realized it would be useless for him to try.
“Both together!” said Sergeant Hotchkiss, in a low voice to Mr. Piper. “We’ve got to stop him short!”
They aimed quickly. On came the elephant, trumpeting with rage, while the others in the herd joined in. They all began to move toward Blake, who was hopping away as fast as he could on one foot, having abandoned his camera. Joe was still in his tree, but could easily be shaken out of it.
“Ready!” cried the sergeant. “Fire!”
The two guns were discharged as one. The elephant was almost up to Blake, crashing through the bushes. But the men had fired straight, true, and just in time.
The heavy bullets halted the elephant long enough for the lad to make good his escape. Crashing to its knees the big beast tried to rise.
“Give him another!” yelled the former soldier, and again they shot together. The elephant crashed over on its side. Blake had been saved in the nick of time. The other elephants, shrilly trumpeting, made off in the jungle and Blake’s camera, with its rare film, was rescued from the bushes where it had dropped.