“Getting tired of it?”
“Horribly!” they shouted back; “and it’s a long way yet.”
Then the nodding began again, their crouching attitude fostering it, and the darkness was lit up by the dreams which came with their sound sleep, out of which they both started together; the change in the elephant’s movement, from a rolling, plunging progress, something akin to that of a boat at sea without its smoothness, to a regular steady walk, waking the boys at once.
“Hurrah!” cried Frank. “Out of the jungle. Not far to go now.”
As he spoke, they could see lights, and the elephants stepped out freely, bringing them in a very short time to the front of the rajah’s grounds, where a group of men were standing, and among them Mr Braine, Mr Greig, and the Tumongong, who all advanced.
“You are late,” cried the former. “Make haste and get down here; we have been waiting these two hours.”
“Sorry to have kept you,” cried Murray, as the elephants went down on their knees.
“Never mind, we’ll talk later on. The rajah desires that you all come and have your evening meal with him, and tell him what you have done.”
“Impossible to-night. We are not fit.”
“Never mind that,” said Mr Braine, rather hurriedly; “he expressed a wish for you to come, and come you must. He has been waiting two hours. The ladies are all there, and the doctor too. A dinner has been prepared for us in a room to ourselves. You will have an audience with the rajah afterwards.”