“‘Is it there we will cross?’ I asked, as I pointed toward a massive iron bridge.
“‘What! And meet no end of persons and things! Certainly not. I have a far better way. But we must bide our time and meanwhile gather a supply of long, trailing vines, the purpose of which you will learn later on.’
“So the last hour of the day was spent in searching the woods for vine branches, being careful to select only those that were well strung with leaves. By the time we had completed this task and returned to the ridge, darkness had fallen and the lights been set twinkling in the city and tents that lay over the stream.
“‘Now all is ready,’ said Gray Ears. And bidding me take the mass of vines in my arms, he put his trunk about my waist and lifted me—not to my place on his foot—but to the very tip-top of his head. And as I knelt there, with the vines between my knees and my hands clasping fast to the upper edge of his ears, the big fellow swung straight down the slope and walked smack into the river!
“So carefully did Gray Ears advance that his great feet made hardly a splash. I could hear only a soft, gurgling sound that came from where the current, suddenly meeting the side of what it probably mistook for a queer-fashioned rock, protested in some little surprise before slipping around the ends of it. Finally even this murmuring ceased. All movement seemed stilled. Looking about I saw that the whole of Gray Ears—not counting the top of his head and a part of his trunk—had become submerged in the depths of the stream. And so, while I perched in my place—quite as though I were voyaging on the back of a turtle—Gray Ears swam on.
“All went as it should until we reached the very middle of the river. Then a rowboat suddenly shot into view from the lee of a low, wooded island. Two men were in it—one at the oars and the other idly dangling a lantern from his place in the bow. It was headed straight for us. Even as I looked, the rays of the light fell full on my face. I quickly crouched down, but not before the man in the bow had caught sight of me.
“‘A clown! A clown! A sure-enough clown!’ cried he to the one at the oars. ‘Pull to just a bit. There! No, I have lost him.’ And he began to cast about with the lantern.
“Meanwhile I felt the tip of Gray Ears’ trunk pressed close to the side of my head. Grasping the end of it, I held it up to my ear while through it came a whisper in warning:
“‘Quick! Down on your knees—with one arm thrust in the air. We must escape them and their questions, for we cannot afford the delay!’
“Even as I obeyed I could feel the great trunk winding in and about me, and knew that Gray Ears was wrapping me round with the trailing ends of the vines!