As if his captor thoroughly grasped the meaning of his piteous appeal, the trunk began slowly to loosen its hold; and then, as the poor fellow prepared himself for a dash to get beyond its reach, he found it begin to smooth him over and stroke him gently down from shoulder to arm, playing about as if caressing him, after the fashion in which he had seen the animals treat their mahout when about to be fed.
“Oh dear!” groaned Peter; “I thought it was all over with me. Does he mean he wants one of them bananas?”
The lad’s hand trembled as he reached out, picked up one of the bananas—the largest he could see—and held it in the direction of the end of the trunk.
There was a loud sniff; the trunk curled round the fruit, curved under, and was drawn back through the hole. The sun shone brightly in, and Peter felt conscious that the banana was disappearing into the great brute’s wet mouth. Then in the most deliberate manner the end of the trunk reappeared, gliding towards him like some serpent. The light was pretty well shut out, and as the wall creaked again, Peter somehow omitted to dash right off as far away as he could go, and found himself picking up another banana, which was deliberately taken, disappeared slowly to make way for the light to pass in, and then the process was repeated once more.
“Here, who’s afraid?” said the lad, mastering the oppression and panting from which he suffered, as he picked up a fourth banana. “He means friends, and I’m blessed if I don’t believe it’s the same one as I tackled at the sham-fight, I wish I knew.—Want another, mate?” he continued, as the trunk-end curled towards him again; and as it slowly took the banana from his hand, he passed his fingers beyond the grasped fruit, and gave the quivering member a quick stroke or two.
To his surprise, the trunk remained motionless, and a faint snorting sound or grunt came from beyond the wall.
“All right. Paid for!” said Peter as he withdrew his hand, and the trunk disappeared. “I do believe it’s the same one,” repeated the lad, “and I shall be all right as long as these ’ere ’nanas last; but when they are done, suppose he comes through to see why the rations have stopped. Well, I must make them last as long as I can; and he’s very cool over it, and not in a hurry. Wonder whether it is that one I knew, and he smelt me and come to see. Yah! Stuff! He smelt the fruit. Oh! here he is again.”
The next time the trunk reappeared Peter Pegg was ready with one of the oat-cakes broken in half. This was taken just as readily, and was being drawn through the hole when its awkward semicircular shape caused it to be caught against the sides, and it dropped inside instead of disappearing like the fruit. The trunk was withdrawn unsupplied, and Peter was in the act of stooping to pick up the piece of cake, when the light was obscured again, making the lad glance upwards and catch sight of the serpent-like, coiling member descending slowly upon him.
“Here, no larks!” cried the lad, dropping upon his knees and preparing to crawl out of reach; but the thought of what he had suffered before unnerved him for the moment, and he could not stir.
He uttered a faint cry as he felt the touch of the elastic organ; but it only began to stroke him caressingly, and recovering himself, he drew a deep breath, held out the piece of cake, which was smelt directly, taken, and this time disappeared in safety.