“Then take it coolly, sir, just as if we weren’t going to make a bolt. That chap must have been a bit sick last night, or been taking bhang or something, and he’s overslept himself this morning. Now then! Spears—kris—victuals. Ready for action. Let’s get part of the prog on to the thatch. You hand it up to me, and then mount yourself.—Oh dear, we sha’n’t have half enough time!”
“But suppose the sentry comes?”
“Lie down on the thatch. You will be out of sight.”
The low muttering of the elephants was heard as Peter scrambled up to his hole in the roof. Archie handed up the spears, which the lad took, and used one to help him in drawing up the basket of provisions, leaving Archie to follow with a couple of cakes thrust into his breast; and by the time the young subaltern was climbing along the thatch preparatory to lowering himself down, five of the elephants had shuffled by, with the squat little driver mounted on the last, and disappeared round a curve of the narrow elephant-path.
As usual, their great fellow, Rajah, as Peter called him, was coming muttering up, apparently only seeing the ground just where he was about to plant his feet, so that he started and prepared to swerve as he suddenly caught sight of the private standing waiting for him, this being something entirely fresh.
But Peter did not lose his presence of mind; he called him by name and held out a piece of the cake, when the great animal uttered a loud grunt, stopped short, and extended his trunk, not to grasp the tempting offering, but to bring to bear his wonderful sense of smell before he was satisfied.
Then he passed his trunk over the lad’s chest, muttering pleasantly the while, and taking the piece of cake, transferred it to his cavernous mouth.
“Now, Mister Archie, sir, bring what you can, and never mind the rest. We haven’t a moment to spare. Come gently, whatever you do.”
Archie was slowly descending the slope of the great thatched roof, which seemed to be a perfectly easy task, but so novel to one who had not had Peter’s experience that when he had nearly reached the eaves and was planting his feet carefully, in preparation for lowering himself down the eight or nine feet of perpendicular wall, whose trellis-work would afford him support, the tied-in piece of flat stone upon which he had planted his foot suddenly gave way, and slipped from the thin cane. A faint cry escaped from the young officer’s lips as he grasped at the brittle attap mat, which gave way at once. He slipped over the ragged mat which formed the eaves, and the next moment, crack, crack, crack, he was hanging feet downwards, and then fell heavily in a cloud of dust bump upon the trampled earth, in company with a snake about six feet long, which began to glide rapidly away.
“You’ve done it, sir!” panted Peter; and then loudly, “It’s all right, old man,” he continued, as he held out the rest of the piece of cake. “That’s only his way of coming down. Whatcher frightened about? Oh, I see; it’s that snake;” and catching up one of the spears which he had leaned up against the big door, he used it pitchfork fashion to the writhing reptile, and sent it flying upward on to the roof, for it to begin scuffling away amidst the leafy thatch.