Sosee had run up a slim sapling which this beast could easily have torn up with his trunk, or from which he could have shaken her down like a cocoanut; while Koree had run up a tree stout enough, indeed, to resist uprooting or shaking, but so low that the monster could easily have reached him with his long trunk. Their safety lay, therefore, in their silence, and they were accordingly quiet,—quiet even for lovers.
The mammoth was in no hurry to leave the place. He browsed about slowly, picking up bunches of grass, or reaching after leaves. Once he picked a trunk full of leaves from the tree in which Koree was sitting; but he took no notice of Koree, whether because he did not see him, or because he did not care for him. Koree and Sosee alone were concerned,—not the pachyderm. They remained simply quiet, and left the great beast in undisputed possession of the field. Never were two lovers more cruelly interrupted, and never did an unwelcome intruder stay so long.
“Two is company,” said Koree to himself, “and three is a great big crowd.”
The lovers could neither touch nor speak.
“Would that our trees were nearer,” whispered Koree.
“Or stouter,” replied Sosee.
“Or taller,” returned Koree.
“Never did I think,” muttered Sosee, “that anything so great could come between our love.”
“Ugh!” shuddered they both.
The huge beast kept on eating, unconscious that he was a bore.