There was another sharp order, and the great beast slowly heaved himself up, muttering thunder, and grumbling the while.
“Well, I am blessed!” cried the proprietor. “You, Jem, did you ever see such a game as this?”
The man addressed did not say a word, but gave one thigh a tremendous slap, while the elephant stretched out his trunk towards them, took a step or two in their direction, and uttered a squeal.
Singh shouted out a few words angrily, and the long serpent-like trunk hung pendent once again, with the tip curled up inward so that it should not brush the ground.
“Now then,” cried Singh to the proprietor, “where do you want him to go?”
“Right up into the show-field, squire,” cried the man excitedly. “Think you can take him?”
“Try,” replied the boy with a scornful laugh; “but I ought to have an ankus. But never mind, I can do it with words.—I say, Glyn,” he continued, speaking over his left shoulder, “we are going to ride in the procession after all. If the Colonel knew, what would he say?”
“But—but—” cried Morris. “My dear boys, pray, pray come down! Think of the consequences to yourselves—and what will be said to me.”
“Oh, it’s all right, Mr Morris,” cried Glyn confidently; “we must take the elephant now. Singh and I have ridden on elephants hundreds of times, though we have never acted the parts of mahouts.—There, go on, Mr What’s-your-name, and Singh here will make him carry us back right to where you wish.”
There was no further opposition. In fact, it would have been a bold man who would have dared to offer any; but the proprietor came as close as he thought prudent, panting hard, as the huge beast swept along in its stately stride.