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wheeled into line. It was Eddie's signal: he ran forward to Ram Singh. The great trunk lifted him. He swung upward slowly. As his body became horizontal his feet were near Gunga's head. The elephant backed suddenly, lifting his trunk.

Eddie lost his nerve. To him the movement was one of menace and revenge, and he began to kick and struggle. His foot, heavily booted, shot out and kicked Gunga violently in the eye—the sore one.

Gunga was already restless and uneasy at the nearness of his enemy: the sudden agony of the blow was too much for him. Ram Singh blocked George from his sight. He trumpeted loudly in his pain and dashed towards the exit into the horse-tent.

The men blocked him—unfortunately, but they were taken by surprise. Gunga was in no mood to be stopped, and the opposition made him furious. He swung round, the cries of the startled crowd drowning George's whistle. The main entrance caught his eye: he fled towards it, his trunk upraised. The hands before him scattered like chaff. Women were screaming, men shouting: the uproar added terror to the elephant, desperate to escape from the lights and clamor into the friendly darkness. He thundered through the entrance and disappeared.

Only one obstacle blocked him; a little squat figure on crutches, who could not move quite fast enough. Gunga had no wish to kill, but he was bent on escape. The trunk, swinging down, brushed the obstacle from his path. He

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