“Yes; all ready,” cried Frank, presenting himself first. “Let’s be off. You are not waiting for us.”
“Go on, then. The elephants are standing in front of the rajah’s.”
The boys needed no second request, but hurried off to find three of the huge, clumsy-looking animals, with their attendants and a party of spearmen, standing bowing their heads and waving their curled-up trunks to and fro. They were fitted with strong basket-work howdahs, and the smallest one was evidently the bearer of the refreshments, its rattan-cane howdah being more roomy and of a rougher make.
The arrangements were soon finished, and Murray mounted into the howdah of the first elephant, followed by Hamet and one of the rajah’s men; the second elephant was devoted to the two boys and Tim, who took his place in the most solemn manner.
“Be on your guard for the branches,” said Mr Braine. “They stretch so across the way, that on a tall elephant you have to mind, or you may be swept off.”
With these parting words of warning, he gave the word, the mahouts touched their mounts’ heads with an iron crook, and the party moved off, passing with its rather large guard of spearmen right by the doctor’s and the merchant’s houses, where the ladies stood in the verandas, and waved them a farewell.
“Want the tiger’s skin?” shouted Frank to Amy. “You shall have it, if we get one.”
She nodded laughingly, and said something; but they were too distant to hear the words, and directly after, the long regular shuffling gait of the elephants had taken them out of sight.
“We are not going near tigers, are we?” said Ned, rather excitedly.
“Of course we are. You can’t go anywhere here without going near tigers, and if you don’t go near them, they come near you. Wait a few minutes till we are well out of the village, and then you’ll see the sort of place our road is.—Won’t he, Tim?”