"They are pursuing us," said Harkins, looking back in the moonlight; "they have missed the elephant, and are chasing him on horseback."
"I'm afraid this enterprise is not a success," replied the doctor; "the beast has found out that the mahout is not here with his sharp goad, and he doesn't catch on to what we are trying to tell him: we had better jump."
"He is going so fast that we are likely to be hurt; is an elephant very long winded?"
"Not specially so."
"He isn't likely to keep this gait much longer, and when he moderates it we will slip off."
The strange cry from the rear was repeated. It must have been a call to the elephant which he recognized, for he stopped so short that the consequences to those on his back were disastrous.
Dr. Avery, who was in the howdah, was leaning over, the better to talk with Harkins, who was astride the neck of the animal. Like a flash he shot out of the saddle, describing a complete somersault. Providentially he landed on his feet, much shaken but unharmed.
Harkins grasped the edge of the howdah just in time to save himself from going off. Confused as to what had become of his companion, he clung to the support, and the elephant, swinging about like the rapid turning of a bridge, started down the road with greater speed than before.
It was now a question whether Harkins was running away with the elephant or whether the latter was making off with him. Neither had any control over the other.
But the rider saw that the situation was serious. The brute was obeying the call of the mahout with great enthusiasm, and if the rider remained on his back he was sure to be carried directly among the friends of the elephant, to whom he would find it hard to make a satisfactory explanation.