The elephants were tethered, and the rajah’s men rapidly unloaded the pannier they had brought, to spread a tempting meal beneath the tree; and this being ended, the first elephant was again brought into use to bear Murray, the two boys, and Tim, on toward the hills shooting and exploring.
This part of the expedition was so beautiful, and the specimens shot so satisfactory, that the wearisome nature of the journey out was forgotten, and that back, which had hung before Ned like a cloud, was no longer thought of.
He said something in respect to it as they walked on beside the elephant, carrying a spare gun and ammunition, and Frank laughed:
“It was tiring, but we had not had any dinner then, and that makes all the difference. I say, Mr Murray, suppose a tiger came now, what should you do?”
“Fire at it, of course.”
“With small shot? Oh! I say, hadn’t you better load your rifle? I’ll carry it.”
“Yes; it would be wise,” replied Murray. “You’ll promise to give it me if there is a chance.”
“Of course.” And the rifle was handed out of the howdah by Tim, loaded, and shouldered by Frank as they once more went on, getting now on to higher ground, where the rugged incline of the gully down which the stream whose course they followed ran, induced Murray to begin examining the stones that lay loose on one side of the little river’s rocky bed.
Then there was another tramp onward, and a couple more specimens fell to the naturalist’s gun.
“That’s as many as we shall care to skin to-night, Ned,” he said. “Let’s see now if we can’t discover some metal.”