The rumbling was worse than thunder, for its source was the earth itself, not the sky. The weather was pleasant enough, the sun shone with all its brilliance and the tall blue sky was cloudless, nature unaware of the slaughter that was about to commence.
The elephant herd was about three dozen in strength, most of them females and calves. They were all running downhill, raising a massive cloud of dust as they galloped for protection. The four male bulls were a considerable distance ahead, for the females had the calves to protect, infants who in a better world might have been playing instead of panicking.
It was a magnificent sight from where Ilan stood on the opposite hill, even in chaos the great beasts had a certain majesty that other beasts like humans completely lacked. The bulls in particular did not look like they were running away, but rather like they were charging at something ahead.
Ilan watched on impassively as the group of hunters finally appeared from behind the hill, armed men on horseback pursuing the great beasts. Even after so many hunts, it never ceased to amaze him how tiny men with a rifle could make the might of nature’s great elephants inconsequential. He felt a certain twinge as he saw doom approaching the herd, intelligent and often gentle beasts killed for their skin and their tusks. It was however, just a twinge in his heart, one he felt often in his profession. His brain on the other hand, was calculating the money they would make in the market for so much ivory. His share would come up to a considerable amount.
They were miniature figures from his view, the twenty three men catching up on the elephants, their rifles ready to bring death. The first shot came from the hunter at the lead, Ilan could not see who it was, but it struck home into the chest cavity of a female and she went down almost instantly with a huge roar. The horsemen were riding among the herd now, weaving in and out of the stampede and isolating the calves from the dangerous females. A desperate mother could pluck a horse with her trunk in mid-run and hurl it to certain death, a threat the hunters were all too aware of. The noise was deafening now as both the hunters and the hunted raced downhill, the smoke would make breathing difficult, but Ilan could see from the comfort of his position that the cloud of chaos moving down the slope left a steady trail of dead elephants in its wake.
“Do you want to sit there all day or do you want to get some work done?” Ilan roused himself and turned around to face a short, bearded man. “If you want to sit there, you can forget about your share, if you want to get some work done, I suggest you join the others.” Ilan sighed as the man walked away, he hoped Ormon was not going to be a pain today. Checking his rifle and his ammunition on the way, he jogged to his horse, which stood with the rest of the mares. There were eight men in the group, eight experienced and solid hunters. More than enough to handle four bulls. Forming into two groups, the bunch trotted their way downhill, none of them in a hurry as they knew that the bulls would take a few more minutes to charge down their way.
The first group headed by Ilan lingered at the foot of the hill, directly in the path of the approaching goliaths as the second group with Ormon headed towards the trees to enclose them from behind.
Ilan grinned at Kormas, the nearest horsemen. “Might be a good one today. You should have seen the size of those bulls; I bet a single tusk from one of those champs would be bigger than you.” He chuckled as all he got in response was a cheerful grunt. The approaching rumble of the bulls was getting stronger anyway. The horses were snorting and shifting around uncomfortably, but the men stroked their backs and looked ahead at the bend of the slope, waiting for their prey to approach.
“Easy now.” Ilan murmured to his horse as the dust became visible. He looked at the steady line of horsemen beside him, poised to cut the charging behemoths down. He still remembered the first years when they hunted as a group, at a time like this they would shout words of encouragement to each other, assuming that it helped. Now there was only the heavy breathing and the thumps of the hooves, for they knew words did not change the course of the hunt. Each man knew his part well enough and each man had enough confidence in himself.
The rumbling was loud enough to make talking difficult now and Ilan raised his rifle as he saw the first of the giants charge out from the bend. His rifle boomed in his hand and then the usual chaos enveloped them. The elephants gave out an angry roar that deafened them and the men roared back with their rifles. Pulling at the reins, the hunters met them head on and galloped between them, making circles around the raging bulls and firing at their broad sides.
Ormon galloped in with his men and fired from behind, one of the bulls went down with a shot through the side of his neck. One of the horsemen was knocked out of his saddle by a random shot from a colossal trunk and crashed into the ground. Ilan shot another right though his chest cavity and the bloody carcass fell like an uprooted tree. Swerving around to avoid the collapsing behemoth, he saw that yet another bull had been brought down, but through the immense amount of dust, could not see where the last one was. The world had compressed as in every hunt, existence consisted only of deafening gun shots, screams and smoke.
“After that fellow right now!” Ormon bellowed as he saw the last bull break through the formation and rush into the trees, the blood that wept through its flanks seeming to have no effect on its speed. Harnessing their reins, the hunters went after the wounded giant at full gallop, dust coating their face as they raced through the thick formation of trees and thorns to pursue the beast. Only Ormon and Kormac stayed behind to meet the rest of the herd as they came charging round the hill.
Ilan knew that tracking the beast down would not be a problem, for they just had to follow the trail of uprooted trees. He was not sure how badly wounded the beast was however, nor how fast it could maneuver through the trees, but he guessed it could not be far away.
As his mount took him through the jungle, he heard thundering gunshots behind him from the open valley. The females and calves must have run into Ormon and Kormac, with the rest of the hunters at their heels.
“Split up.” Ilan called out to his partners. “Two on the left of the trail, two on the right, two on the trail.” The arc formation was always the best to hunt down a wounded elephant; each group could protect the other in case the beast went berserk. “How far ahead is the next pool?” Ilan’s question was not aimed at anyone in particular but Killick answered. “My guess is it cant be more than five minutes away. Maybe even two if we push the horses.” Ilan shifted in his saddle. There were several pools scattered all over the forest, if they could catch up with the beast by the time it reached the first pool, the open area would give them a clear shot.
Ignoring the rough branches which grazed his skin as they raced by, he dug his heels into his horse’s sides to urge it on faster. Unless the elephant was mortally wounded, it would gallop away as fast as his horse for twenty miles and walk for another fifty miles faster than he could run. He had seen the size of the bull’s tusks; he knew how many mouths they would feed. To let it escape and bleed to death somewhere in the interior of the woods would be a sin.
But as they burst out of the clearing at the pool, some of the hunters gave a shout of triumph as they saw the behemoth only a little more than a pistol shot away. The old beast was hard hit but not gravely wounded, he could disappear if the men did not catch up fast. Ilan raised his rifle with his mount at full gallop, squeezing the trigger and the men cheered as the shot crashed into the soil not more than a few meters from their prey. Encouraged, the hunters took their shots as the figure ahead loomed closer, some shots swerving off course and some landing close by.
As they finally got closer, Ilan raised his rifle again, this time with his mount only at a trot and took the shot. A puff of dried mud erupted from the beast’s neck, but he could see from the way the behemoth continued that the bullet did not penetrate the fortress of its skull. The end was close for the mighty beast however, as the hunters caught up with it and emptied their shots into its chest, the bullets ripping its heart and lungs. The behemoth’s legs gave way under it and the men watched as the mighty beast collapsed on the mud. Ilan dismounted and drew out his pistol to end its suffering. As he approached the immobile beast, what he saw in those intelligent eyes was agony and not anger.
In the heartbeat that he pulled the trigger, he felt lucky for being born a human.
The elephant herd was about three dozen in strength, most of them females and calves. They were all running downhill, raising a massive cloud of dust as they galloped for protection. The four male bulls were a considerable distance ahead, for the females had the calves to protect, infants who in a better world might have been playing instead of panicking.
It was a magnificent sight from where Ilan stood on the opposite hill, even in chaos the great beasts had a certain majesty that other beasts like humans completely lacked. The bulls in particular did not look like they were running away, but rather like they were charging at something ahead.
Ilan watched on impassively as the group of hunters finally appeared from behind the hill, armed men on horseback pursuing the great beasts. Even after so many hunts, it never ceased to amaze him how tiny men with a rifle could make the might of nature’s great elephants inconsequential. He felt a certain twinge as he saw doom approaching the herd, intelligent and often gentle beasts killed for their skin and their tusks. It was however, just a twinge in his heart, one he felt often in his profession. His brain on the other hand, was calculating the money they would make in the market for so much ivory. His share would come up to a considerable amount.
They were miniature figures from his view, the twenty three men catching up on the elephants, their rifles ready to bring death. The first shot came from the hunter at the lead, Ilan could not see who it was, but it struck home into the chest cavity of a female and she went down almost instantly with a huge roar. The horsemen were riding among the herd now, weaving in and out of the stampede and isolating the calves from the dangerous females. A desperate mother could pluck a horse with her trunk in mid-run and hurl it to certain death, a threat the hunters were all too aware of. The noise was deafening now as both the hunters and the hunted raced downhill, the smoke would make breathing difficult, but Ilan could see from the comfort of his position that the cloud of chaos moving down the slope left a steady trail of dead elephants in its wake.
“Do you want to sit there all day or do you want to get some work done?” Ilan roused himself and turned around to face a short, bearded man. “If you want to sit there, you can forget about your share, if you want to get some work done, I suggest you join the others.” Ilan sighed as the man walked away, he hoped Ormon was not going to be a pain today. Checking his rifle and his ammunition on the way, he jogged to his horse, which stood with the rest of the mares. There were eight men in the group, eight experienced and solid hunters. More than enough to handle four bulls. Forming into two groups, the bunch trotted their way downhill, none of them in a hurry as they knew that the bulls would take a few more minutes to charge down their way.
The first group headed by Ilan lingered at the foot of the hill, directly in the path of the approaching goliaths as the second group with Ormon headed towards the trees to enclose them from behind.
Ilan grinned at Kormas, the nearest horsemen. “Might be a good one today. You should have seen the size of those bulls; I bet a single tusk from one of those champs would be bigger than you.” He chuckled as all he got in response was a cheerful grunt. The approaching rumble of the bulls was getting stronger anyway. The horses were snorting and shifting around uncomfortably, but the men stroked their backs and looked ahead at the bend of the slope, waiting for their prey to approach.
“Easy now.” Ilan murmured to his horse as the dust became visible. He looked at the steady line of horsemen beside him, poised to cut the charging behemoths down. He still remembered the first years when they hunted as a group, at a time like this they would shout words of encouragement to each other, assuming that it helped. Now there was only the heavy breathing and the thumps of the hooves, for they knew words did not change the course of the hunt. Each man knew his part well enough and each man had enough confidence in himself.
The rumbling was loud enough to make talking difficult now and Ilan raised his rifle as he saw the first of the giants charge out from the bend. His rifle boomed in his hand and then the usual chaos enveloped them. The elephants gave out an angry roar that deafened them and the men roared back with their rifles. Pulling at the reins, the hunters met them head on and galloped between them, making circles around the raging bulls and firing at their broad sides.
Ormon galloped in with his men and fired from behind, one of the bulls went down with a shot through the side of his neck. One of the horsemen was knocked out of his saddle by a random shot from a colossal trunk and crashed into the ground. Ilan shot another right though his chest cavity and the bloody carcass fell like an uprooted tree. Swerving around to avoid the collapsing behemoth, he saw that yet another bull had been brought down, but through the immense amount of dust, could not see where the last one was. The world had compressed as in every hunt, existence consisted only of deafening gun shots, screams and smoke.
“After that fellow right now!” Ormon bellowed as he saw the last bull break through the formation and rush into the trees, the blood that wept through its flanks seeming to have no effect on its speed. Harnessing their reins, the hunters went after the wounded giant at full gallop, dust coating their face as they raced through the thick formation of trees and thorns to pursue the beast. Only Ormon and Kormac stayed behind to meet the rest of the herd as they came charging round the hill.
Ilan knew that tracking the beast down would not be a problem, for they just had to follow the trail of uprooted trees. He was not sure how badly wounded the beast was however, nor how fast it could maneuver through the trees, but he guessed it could not be far away.
As his mount took him through the jungle, he heard thundering gunshots behind him from the open valley. The females and calves must have run into Ormon and Kormac, with the rest of the hunters at their heels.
“Split up.” Ilan called out to his partners. “Two on the left of the trail, two on the right, two on the trail.” The arc formation was always the best to hunt down a wounded elephant; each group could protect the other in case the beast went berserk. “How far ahead is the next pool?” Ilan’s question was not aimed at anyone in particular but Killick answered. “My guess is it cant be more than five minutes away. Maybe even two if we push the horses.” Ilan shifted in his saddle. There were several pools scattered all over the forest, if they could catch up with the beast by the time it reached the first pool, the open area would give them a clear shot.
Ignoring the rough branches which grazed his skin as they raced by, he dug his heels into his horse’s sides to urge it on faster. Unless the elephant was mortally wounded, it would gallop away as fast as his horse for twenty miles and walk for another fifty miles faster than he could run. He had seen the size of the bull’s tusks; he knew how many mouths they would feed. To let it escape and bleed to death somewhere in the interior of the woods would be a sin.
But as they burst out of the clearing at the pool, some of the hunters gave a shout of triumph as they saw the behemoth only a little more than a pistol shot away. The old beast was hard hit but not gravely wounded, he could disappear if the men did not catch up fast. Ilan raised his rifle with his mount at full gallop, squeezing the trigger and the men cheered as the shot crashed into the soil not more than a few meters from their prey. Encouraged, the hunters took their shots as the figure ahead loomed closer, some shots swerving off course and some landing close by.
As they finally got closer, Ilan raised his rifle again, this time with his mount only at a trot and took the shot. A puff of dried mud erupted from the beast’s neck, but he could see from the way the behemoth continued that the bullet did not penetrate the fortress of its skull. The end was close for the mighty beast however, as the hunters caught up with it and emptied their shots into its chest, the bullets ripping its heart and lungs. The behemoth’s legs gave way under it and the men watched as the mighty beast collapsed on the mud. Ilan dismounted and drew out his pistol to end its suffering. As he approached the immobile beast, what he saw in those intelligent eyes was agony and not anger.
In the heartbeat that he pulled the trigger, he felt lucky for being born a human.