“I’m getting better fast, Pete,” cried Archie Maine, his voice sounding clearly above the suck, suck of the elephant’s feet in the deep old tracks, and the whisk, whisk of the green cane-sprouts that shot out on either side from the wall of verdure.
“That’s right, sir. You do comfort me. I’ve been thinking that it wasn’t fair of me to be riding comfortable here while you’ve got nothing but a bit of rope to hold on by except your balance. But, I say, it ain’t all best down here, for, my eye, ain’t it ’ot!—quite steamy.”
“Yes; this tunnel is steamy and hot,” replied Archie.
“Oh, I don’t mean the tunnel, sir. I mean Rajah’s neck and these two great fly-flaps of his keeping all the wind out. I tried lifting up one of them, but I suppose it tiddled him—fancied he had got a big fly about him, I suppose. I say, Mister Archie, ain’t it prime! He don’t seem to be going fast, but, my word, with these long legs of his how he does get over the ground! But, I say, look ye here; wouldn’t this be a jolly place if we was out for a holiday, instead of being like on furlough without leave?”
“It’s beautiful,” said Archie; for after they had travelled for some time in deep shadow, completely covered in, the jungle suddenly opened out, and their way was now between two perpendicular walls of dense green verdure. Just in front a couple of brilliantly green-and-gold, long-tailed paroquets suddenly flashed into sight as if about to alight, but, startled by the elephant, they flew off with sharp screams.
And now time after time large, wide-winged, diurnal moths and glistening butterflies flew up from where they had settled on the dew-drenched herbage and fluttered before them. Not far onward a flock of finches flew from the tops of the green banks, twittering loudly as they displayed the brilliance of the blue and yellow and green of their plumage and its varying shades. But this was only for a time. The jungle growth rose higher on either side till it shut out the sunshine, and once more the elephant-path wore the aspect of a deep, shadowy tunnel, while the air grew more moist and steamy, seeming stagnant to a degree.
“All right, sir?” cried Peter, straining to look round.
“Yes, yes, Pete. My fall shook me a bit, and seemed to bring back the old aching in my head. But don’t mind me. I feel quite happy now that we are getting farther and farther from our prison. We are free, and if I could only feel that we were going in the right direction I should not care.”
“Oh, don’t care, sir; don’t care a bit. It’s chance it—chance it. Old Rajah’s taking us somewhere, and why shouldn’t it be to headquarters?”
“It’s not likely, Pete.”