"I don't care: they do," said Phra. "If they didn't they'd be rushing about here and there to begin breaking off and eating the green boughs."
The first gate was passed, leading from the court into the outer grounds, and almost in silence the great beasts shuffled along in single file, treading with absurd exactness in each other's steps, while the guard on being overtaken, trotted on in advance till the outer wall was reached, with a couple of men perched on the top of the ponderous gates keeping a look-out.
At a word from Sree the great elephant he rode stopped and knelt, extending his trunk for a foothold, so that his temporary mahout could climb down.
Meanwhile four men of the guard had leaned their spears against the wall, raised and swung round the massive bars, and then after a great deal of tugging managed to drag open one of the double gates, beyond which lay open paddy fields, and on the other side the wild jungle, the river being away to their right.
"Good-bye, Sul," cried Harry, and the elephant turned his trunk for another biscuit. "There you are—the last, perhaps, that I shall ever give you."
The elephant turned his trunk under and tucked the biscuit into his huge, wet mouth, then extended his flexible proboscis for more.
But there were no more, and the silent, visible request to Phra made in turn was just as unsuccessful.
"There, Sree," cried Phra huskily, "tell them to go."
Sree took a step forward and repeated a few words in his native tongue, with the result that Sul threw up his trunk and made a peculiar noise, which was responded to by one of the elephants behind, and then he went off with a rush, squealing, trumpeting, and setting up his comical little tail; and the troop followed suit, getting over the ground at a tremendous pace and making straight for the jungle.
"Well, it has made them happy," said Harry, looking after the troop wistfully.