“Yes. Are you going to walk?”
“Not me, sir; but I do wish that we hadn’t got to leave that basket behind.”
By this time the towering beast was once more upon its feet, and Peter was puzzling his head for an order he had forgotten; but just as some misty notion of the Malay words was hovering in his brain the great trunk encircled his waist, he was lifted from the ground, and the next minute he was gliding safely into the mahout’s place, his widely outstretched legs settling themselves behind the monster’s ears.
“Now, Mister Archie, give us one of them spears. Got it! Now then—talk about a mahout!—Geet! geet! Netherway!” he cried, using the words familiar to him from the days when he used to watch the carters and their teams. “What are you up to now?—Look at that, now, Mister Archie!” For, to the lad’s great delight, the elephant had swung himself round a little, the effect being to Archie that of a heavily laden boat in a rough sea, and reaching out with his trunk towards the basket with the rest of the fruit, he had picked it up, and then began to march solemnly and sedately in the direction taken by the other elephants every morning since they had passed the great shed.
“Can you hold on, Mister Archie?” said Peter.
“Yes; pretty well. Are you all right?”
“Oh, I’m all right, sir; but ’ware trees as soon as we get into that path in front. Mind as the branches don’t wipe you off.”
“I’ll try.”
“I say, sir, don’t the Rajah know how to take care of hisself!” cried Peter, carrying his spear diagonally, and looking as if he was prepared to use it if any one should present himself to stop their way. “Now what do you think of our plan, sir?”
“Oh, it’s splendid,” replied the young officer. “But never mind me. Don’t talk much, for I hurt my head a little when I fell.”