"A devastating sickness has fallen on my village, and all my wives are dying," yelled Deesa, really in tears this time.
"Call Chihun, who comes from Deesa's village," said the planter. "Chihun, has this man got a wife?"
"He?" said Chihun. "No. Not a woman of our village would look at him. They'd sooner marry the elephant."
Chihun snorted. Deesa wept and bellowed.
"You will get into a difficulty in a minute," said the planter. "Go back to your work!"
"Now I will speak Heaven's truth," gulped Deesa, with an inspiration. "I haven't been drunk for two months. I desire to depart in order to get properly drunk afar off and distant from this heavenly plantation. Thus I shall cause no trouble."
A flickering smile crossed the planter's face. "Deesa," said he, "you've spoken the truth, and I'd give you leave on the spot if anything could be done with Moti Guj while you're away. You know that he will only obey your orders."
"May the light of the heavens live forty thousand years. I shall be absent but ten little days. After that, upon my faith and honor and soul, I return. As to the inconsiderable interval, have I the gracious permission of the heaven-born to call up Moti Guj?"
Permission was granted, and in answer to Deesa's shrill yell, the mighty tusker swung out of the shade of a clump of trees where he had been squirting dust over himself till his master should return.
"Light of my heart, protector of the drunken, mountain of might, give ear!" said Deesa, standing in front of him.