It was not long before Oscar’s attention had to be given to new difficulties on the road. The path, for it was not a highway, led through a dense forest, where thick branches interlaced above formed an unexpected barrier which no elephant carrying a howdah could possibly pass.
“Oscar, what is to be done?” exclaimed Io, as the huge animal which she rode came to a sudden halt.
“This is very annoying,” said Oscar. “I was assured that the road the whole way to Tavoy might be traversed on an elephant’s back. I will send men to the right and left to ascertain if indeed there be no practicable path through the wood.”
The search was made in vain. There was evidently no way to proceed but through the tangled forest. Oscar, who had joined in the search, came back to his wife.
“It is evidently impossible to go on,” said he. “No howdah could pass under these trees.”
“Then what is to be done?” repeated Io. “I can hardly attempt to walk the whole way to Tavoy,” she added, in as cheerful a tone as she could command; “and if I tried the tat without a lady’s saddle, I fear that I should come to grief, like Thud.”
Oscar reflected for a moment. “We might try what I first proposed—a litter.”
“What! make an improvised one of branches?” cried Io gaily. “But where are the bearers to carry me?”
“We had better return to our new friends at Mouang,” observed Oscar; “they may supply us with some rude substitute for litters, and men to carry them also.”
“But if you go back to the village it makes the distance greater,” growled Thud. “I am already walked off my legs; my boots have holes, and my feet are blistered.”