“Oh, bother! I shan’t do it now. I say, I don’t know where we should all be if he started now.”
“I don’t know where we are without his starting,” replied Ned. “It seems to me as if the thing’s going right through the blackest part of the forest as it is.”
“Nonsense! And look: it isn’t so dark now. We’re out in that part where we rested this morning.”
That was plain enough, for a load seemed to have been suddenly lifted from their spirits. The air felt warm and fresh. The peculiar dank odour of the trampled leaves and mud was wanting, and right above them were the purple heavens ablaze with glorious stars, looking brighter and larger than they had ever seemed before.
“Hah!” ejaculated Ned, taking a long breath; “that’s better.”
But the pleasurable feeling soon passed away, for at the end of five minutes, the jungle track was entered upon again, and plash, plash, plash, plash, on they went, with the howdah creaking to the elephant’s swing, and the boughs now dripping with moisture brushing against them as the elephants plunged on.
“Why, we shall be hours yet,” said Ned. “Oh, I am getting so sick of this. It was bad enough this morning when it was daylight. Hark! What’s that?”
“Tiger,” said Frank, in a subdued voice, “on the prowl. But I don’t suppose he’ll come near us.”
Frank’s words did not inspire confidence. On the contrary, they made Ned feel very nervous, and begin to envy Tim’s ability to sleep all through the perilous jaunt. For dangerous it was, since, setting aside the risk of an attack by some hungry tiger, there was always the possibility of one of the elephants coming down when floundering through the mud.
On still, with the motion at last growing so wearisome that the dangers were forgotten, and both of the boys began to nod, but roused up again as a hail came from the foremost elephant.