They rampaged through the grove, smashing up the capsized chariots, stamping the carcasses of the horses under those massive padded feet, throwing the bodies of screaming men high in the air and trampling them as they fell back to earth. However, the wounds had not weakened them, but seemed only to have aggravated their fury.
The two great bull elephants bristled with arrow-shafts, and the blood streamed down their bodies, leaving wet streaks on their dusty grey hide. Our plan was to come in and split on each side of the bull, firing our arrows into him as we passed, then wheeling around and coming back in classic chariot tactics. "Take him before he turns to run."īehind us the rest of our column was strung out in single file. He pulled the shaft from his own flesh and threw it aside and came on after us, reaching out towards us with the blood-smeared trunk. He merely reached up with his trunk and - gripped the shaft of the arrow with the tip, as a man might do with his hand. Then the bull squealed again, and he ran. It was hard to control them and keep them running straight. They had picked up the scent of this strange quarry, and they threw their heads up and crabbed in the traces. He was unperturbed, and concerned only with the trophy of the chase, but the horses were nervous and skittish. Then the next chariot in line tore in, distracting the bull from his victim.
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