Essay: British Official

Finally we got to know his true face. Everyone in this forlorn place knew him as the British police officer, the man without courage, with see-through eyes and no respect for the Burmese people. He was the target of wrongs and no one liked him, but as his Burmese opponent I had to stay official.
Untill yesterday, nobody would have suggested him to be a murderer. But he killed the elephant. He had the guts to fight against the wild animal, incited to do it by the crowd. I am so shocked, I can't reflect the aftermath but I can say that it seemed to be a huge event.
After the elephant had gone mad, he killed a man and rioted in town, so someone had to do something. Of course no one would have been better to do that than the British officer, let him do the dirty work. And surprisingly he was dominated by the crowd, the Burmese crowd. How strong can the Empire be, if their people don't think for themselves and can't stand some revolting natives?

Anyway, it was a interminable excruciating struggle to death and neither can I belive he had the guts to do it, nor can I imagine how cruel it must have been for the elephant and please don't ask me how to estimate this incident. He needed many shots to finally kill the elephant. The poor animal had to bear his inner ferocity, the screaming crowd and bullets rushing through his body.

So rarely does anything happen here, so exciting is everything that breaks through daily routine. Shooting an elephant - a big party and a chance for the Burmese to feel superior to the British? I think I have to have a time out to handle this.