Archie thinks.
“Hoomph! Phoonk!”
“What say?” cried Peter, springing up in a sitting position, to find it was daylight once more. “Oh, it’s you, is it?” he cried, for there was a crackling by the door, and the great, tapering, serpent-like trunk of an elephant was waving to and fro and reaching towards the water-jar.
“Yahhh! Burrrr!” came from outside, and there were steps as if somebody were rushing towards the door to chase the intruder away.
The utterer of the yell seemed to have been successful, for the trunk was drawn back quickly, the elephant trumpeted, there were the footsteps of a man, and the shuffling sound of the gait of the great beast, as, springing up, Peter Pegg ran to the door and climbed up to place his eye where the trunk had been, so that he could see what was taking place.
“My! Look at that!” cried Peter cheerily. “That ain’t the way to drive a helephant away. You are going all wrong, comrade.” For, instead of suffering himself to be driven, the elephant opened his mouth, curved up his trunk into something the shape of the letter S, and displaying two finely produced, sharply pointed tusks, he was starting in full chase of the stumpy underling who had been driving him down to the river, but only to turn back and make a call on his new friend for refreshment.
“What a lark!” said Peter, as the elephant disappeared after his quarry. “It makes me feel as if I should like to keep helephants, if I get to be Field-Marshal and they make me Governor-General of Injy and Malay; for they are such rum beggars. They look just as if when they died they would do to cut up for injy-rubber. And they seem so friendly, too, with any one they like. Sort of things as you can’t drive, but have to lead. I should like a good helephant for a pet, but I suppose he would be expensive to keep; and I don’t suppose that there grubby-looking little chap feels very comfortable with that one chivying him. Here, I never thought of that,” continued Peter, as he dropped down amongst the palm-leaves. “My lord was reaching out that big leech of his after our rations. Lucky he couldn’t get at them. I ought to have remembered to put them away;” and, to guard against any mishap, Peter Pegg hastened to place jar and basket in the right-hand corner of the building, where they would be handy for replenishing, and out of reach and out of sight of his huge visitor. This done, the young private crossed over to where he had thrust and covered over the spear, and, to his intense satisfaction, he found that unless a searcher well turned over the dried leaves, it would be impossible to find the concealed weapon.
“Is that you, Pete?” said a faint voice; and Archie’s fellow-prisoner literally rushed to the speaker’s side.
“Me it is, sir. England for ever, and hooray! Oh, do say you are better, sir!” cried the lad, ending in a half-squeak as if there were tears in his throat or he was trying to imitate an elephant.
“Better? Yes, I think I’m better, Pete,” said the poor fellow feebly. “But my head aches dreadfully, and—and—I’m so weak.”