"But I did not want to shoot the elephant. I watched him beating his bunch of grass against his knees, with that preoccupied grandmotherly air elephants have. It seemed that it'd be murder to shoot him. At that age I wasn't squeamish about killing animals, but I had never shot an elephant and never wanted to (somehow it always seems worse to kill a large animal.) Besides, there was the beast's owner to be considered. Alive, the elephant was worth at least five-hundred pounds; dead. he'd only be worth the value of this tusks, five pounds, possibly. But I had got to act quickly. I turned to some experienced-looking Burmans who had been there when we arrived, and asked them how the elephant had been behaving. They all said the same thing: he took no notice of you if you left him alone, but he might charge if you went to close to him." - "Shooting an Elephant": pg. 262