“There,” he cried at last; “that’s all you’ll get, so you had better toddle.”
Hoomph! grunted the elephant.
“What do you mean by that?”
Phoonk! came in a hollow-sounding grunt.
“Oh, why didn’t you speak plain? Want water, do you? Can’t spare any. My young governor wants a good wash. Go on down to the river. There’s plenty there. Good old chap,” he continued, softly stroking the trunk; and after a low, muttering sound the elephant submitted to the caresses, and then began to respond.
“Take care, Pete!” said Archie in a low whisper.
“All right, sir. He knows me.”
“But he may turn spiteful. A blow from an elephant’s trunk would dash you across the place.”
“Oh, he isn’t going to dash me—are you, old man?”