The startling appearance of such a huge creature, and our being scattered and separated, created for an instant a slight dismay, which may be better understood than described. The beast gave one of his horrid trumps, and charged somebody, whom I could not see; but I followed it, and the next instant beheld the Collector running without hat or gun, and the elephant after him. I fired instantly, intending to hit a vital part, which is under the ear; the shot struck, but unfortunately without taking proper effect. My servant boy, with a reserve gun, was ten or twelve yards off- -a long way at such a moment-but no more time was lost than could be avoided in exchanging guns with him. I turned back as quickly as possible, and at this instant the elephant seized the Collector and lifted him off the ground. I instantly levelled my gun, in the hope that a chance of saving him might offer. The beast turned partly round the tree, still holding the Collector by his trunk, and I saw that I had a clear shot at his head. I fired, and struck him, the ball entering his left eye. He staggered, stumbled, let the Collector fall, and made off without trampling on him. I then rushed forward, intending to discharge my second barrel; but some objects coming between the elephant and me, he escaped, and I lost sight of him entirely. The Collector now lay apparently lifeless on the ground. A painful sensation of dizziness nearly overpowered me. I went towards him: he moved, and assisted himself by taking hold of a tree. I then hastened and found him like one risen from the grave, pale as death. I saw blood, but it was that of the elephant, dropping from his brow.

Never shall I forget my feelings, when I saw the monster rushing on him, still less those when I saw the brute's huge trunk twine round and take him up. All this occurred in less than a minute. The Collector was of course very faint; we gave up the pursuit, and got some brandy and water, which revived him; and he

told us that he had advanced till within six yards of the elephant, and then fired, thinking that, as usual, it would retreat, instead of which it charged him. He then fired a second time, within three yards of the beast, and fled; but the animal gained upon him: he threw his gun at it, and tried to run round a tree; but it was too cunning, and ran round the tree also, seized him by the neck, and threw him down. It then attempted to gore him; luckily the tusks struck into the ground on each side of him, and thus he was preserved. The Collector then felt the brute take him up in his trunk; he then heard my shot, and immediately found himself on the ground. He lay quietly there a second or two, then inclined himself slightly, and perceived that the elephant's back was towards him.

The elephant must have carried away at least twenty balls. Perhaps he was led to select the Collector on account of his being dressed in bright white jean. Four days after our hunt, a report reached us that some hunters had killed the elephant, which had continued to wander about the place where he had been wounded. It was fourteen feet long, from the root of the tail to the joining of the trunk to the head, and eleven feet high. My balls had struck in the neck and left eye, and the head was terribly marked with shots.-Library of Entertaining Knowledge.

AN AMERICAN ELEPHANT.

AN interesting beast has just passed away at Chicago. The New York Herald announced a short time ago the death, at that town, of the "celebrated performing ele phant Romeo, the largest and most valuable of his species ever brought to America, and more famous than any who have gone before him." The occurrence, says the Herald,

will excite interest in almost every city, town, or village in America; but to judge by the account given of the career of the deceased, the news of his death must, we imagine, be received with some sense of relief. Romeo, it seems, has killed five keepers since his advent in America, "besides destroying any number of fences, barns, garden patches, corn-fields, orchards," &c. He was bought in Calcutta about twenty-five years ago, having been taken from a brickyard, where he was used in grinding clay. The price paid for him was nearly £2,000 in gold; and he was brought to America with nine others. In 1852, while south of New Orleans, he killed his keeper, known as "Long John," whose successor, called "Frenchy," shared the same fate near Houston, Texas, in 1855. A third keeper, Steward Craven, was killed in 1860 near Cedar Rapids, Iowa; the fourth, "Ben Williams," was sent to his last account at Philadelphia in 1867; and the fifth, named M'Devitt, at Ohio, in 1869, completed the illustrious roll of Romeo's victims. Although, from the affectionate nature of the animal, there can be no doubt he bitterly mourned the loss of the keepers, whom in his hasty moments he destroyed, yet his cheerful temperament enabled him to survive sorrows, that would have crushed more sensitive elephants; indeed, his playfulness sometimes exceeded the limits of convenience. In the winter of 1868 ho alarmed the inhabitants of Chicago by tearing to pieces the building, in which he was confined, on the site of the present City Hall. On this occasion a cannon was brought out to cope with him; but he was fortunately recaptured before any further damage was done. His left eye was, however, shot out in 1865 near Philadelphia; and his hide bore the scars of numerous bullets and red-hot irons used to subdue him at different times, when he became violent. He stood eleven feet two and a half inches high, and is supposed to have been one hundred years old. His death, which

was beautiful as his life, is thus described by the Herald. On Mr. Forepaugh, his owner, visiting the menagerie tent in the morning he found Romeo extended on the floor, "his colossal flanks heaving with quick short gasps, his eyes fixed and filmy, and the further extremity of the trunk cold and pulseless. The sound of Mr. Forepaugh's voice, calling him by his name, was recognized by the dying monster, and he attempted to raise his head in response to the touch of his owner's hand; but his strength was departed, his life was ebbing fast, his head dropped back upon the ground, and after a few weak convulsive struggles, he had ceased to breathe, and all that remained of Romeo was a monstrous heap of inanimate flesh."-Pall Mall Gazette,

THE LION, THE YOUNG BIRDS, AND
THE JACKAL:

A FABLE.

AMID the dry and desert land,

Where Africa spreads its plains of sand,
A Pelican, with needful food,

Each day supplied her hungry brood.
She, too, could find o'er miles of ground
Where all the cooling springs were found,
And with refreshing water fill

The useful pouch beneath her bill;
Conveying thus, with anxious care,
Enough for all, and some to spare;
And when her young had drunk, the rest
Flow'd in the hollow of the nest.

A Lion, with a noble mane,
Who oft had wander'd o'er the plain,
Was seen, at morning's early ray,
To take his frequent walk that way,
Where the deep nest his thirst supplied;

Whilst, placed securely at its side,
The tender birds, with courage stout,
Sat watching what he was about.
With lapping tongue the nest he drained,
Till scarce a single drop remain’d.
His thirst allayed, he turned his eye
Round on the feathered family!
He knew they were delicious meat;
And hunger prompted him to eat!
But, no! departing with a bound,
He left the nestlings safe and sound,
Intending ('tis but fair to say),
To call and drink another day.

A prying Jackal saw the feast,

And thus addressed the generous beast:
"Great sir! I really could have laughed,
To see how you enjoyed your draught;
But wonder'd much that you should spare
The second treat, those tit-bits there,
Till I perceived the curious fact,
That selfishness produced the act:
For, should you kill the mother's joy,
Your own supplies you would destroy;
In vain were then the liquid store
The childless bird would bring no more;
And you'd discover, to your sorrow,
No pleasant drinking-trough to-morrow!"

"Shame!" said the Lion, "shame, to find Base motives for a deed that's kind; Thanks to the mother's thoughtful care For yonder birds, whose draught I share; I feel, whene'er my thirst I slake, That in their safety I partake! But do not they partake in mine? Aye, sirrah, think on't when you dine; For should you ever dare molest The tenants of that happy nest, Your bones should whiten on the plain, And brother Jackals plead in vain.