"I, too, have seen this red danger," said Duchess, with a shudder. "Once, in the Jungle, it roared and pursued me among the dried reeds till my sides were scorched and I was near dying of fatigue. Didst thou say, my Lord, that the Master People imprison those scorching red tongues in iron boxes?"
"Aye, thus it warms, but pursueth not," answered Mahmoud. "Yet is there sometimes danger, as I am about to relate. It happened one night in the middle of winter, when the cold was so severe that the man who watched stretched himself out on the floor at the very side of the iron box, which was as red without as it was within, that old Sultan, the lion, escaped from his cage, and walked abroad within the large house. In passing the red box, he lashed his tail thereon and was stung by the fire so that he howled. But ere the watcher could rise, Sultan, roaring with anger, leaped on the red box, overturning it, so that it fell and held fast the foot of the man that watched. Instantly did the man set up a great outcry, for the fire stung him also, and the weight of the red box held him so that he could not rise.
"Now it happened," continued Mahmoud, "that the man who watched had shown me many kindnesses, and I was loath to see him suffer pain. Therefore, breaking the chain that held me in my stall, I ran to the iron box, wrapped my trunk about it and quickly set it on its legs, as, many times in the Jungle, I have carried the hewn logs for the Master People. It was not until the watcher was released and arose, limping, to his feet in safety, that I felt the sting of the fire—"
"Remarkable! Most remarkable!"
This interruption, uttered in a gruff, unfamiliar voice, caused the little Limping Boy to turn and look to see who was the speaker. But he saw only the swaying branches of some shrubbery near by, and so went on interpreting Mahmoud's tale.
"The pain grew each moment more severe, so that I groaned with the agony of it," continued the elephant. "The man who watched returned me to my stall and put oil on my wounds. The oil availed little. For days my agony continued. The Keeper and his helpers could give me no relief. Great patches of skin fell from my trunk, leaving my wounds raw and bleeding. Thus I suffered in the full belief that my wounds were mortal, and that I should never see thee again, my beloved, when one day the Keeper brought to my stall a large man with yellow hair and beard, who carried in his hand a black bag, and who, as he examined my wounded trunk, kept saying 'hum' and 'ha' in a gruff voice. Yet I felt in my heart that he desired to afford me relief—"
"Remarkable! Most remarkable!"
It was the same gruff voice; but again the little Limping Boy was unable to discover whence it came, and so gave his attention once more to the elephant.