Birds, too, began to be seen: tiny parrots whistled and chattered in the trees; a big hawk hovered overhead; and several times over great long-legged waders were disturbed.
But no attempt at firing was made, the two lads sitting quiet and thoughtful beneath their sheltering roof, musing over the expedition, and wondering whether it was being successful.
In imagination Harry seemed to see it all: the men spread out to beat some fairly open space and drive the tiger towards where the two elephants would be stationed some fifty yards apart, with their occupants, rifle in hand, watching for the slightest movement in a clump of bushes or tuft of reeds.
"Oh, what would I not give to be there!" said Harry to himself at last. "I wish I were not such a boy!"
The colour came a little, though, into his cheeks—or it might have been caused by the heat of the sun, at any rate it was there—as he thought of what the doctor had said, and of his own words to his father.
And as these thoughts came, he felt something like shame at his feeling of dissatisfaction with what he had, and his striving after that which he had not.
"I won't be such a dissatisfied donkey," he muttered, and his face looked brighter as he turned sharply to speak to Phra.
His change affected his companion, who brightened up too.
"We're getting close to the mouth of the little river," he said.
"I'm glad of it," said Harry cheerfully. "I say, they have been quick; it's hot work for them."