“If we could only go up to Simla,” sighed Coppertop, “I believe we should find several of Daddy’s friends there. But I couldn’t go this size, could I? I’d only be able to get about half my nose into one of those wee bungalows, and the punkah-wallahs would all die of fright! And the ‘pi’ dogs would run mad at the sight of me. And the Colonel Sahibs would come fuming out of the clubs! And I should just be able to push them all away with my little toe.” And Coppertop laughed heartily at the thought of it.
The Himalaya Mountains spread before them in all their glory, for the morning sun was dressing their highest peaks in a rich robe of rose and golden sunbeams.
“Aren’t those mountains simply too gorgeous!” cried Coppertop; “and dear old Simla is just there at the foot of them.”
After a short rest under the palm trees, Miss Smiler arose and continued her journey.
They passed many beautiful valleys, but saw no sign of the East Wind. Neither was he cooling himself in the shade of the mountains. So the chances were that he was even then at his prayers beside the Taj Mahal.
And thither they went at full speed.
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE EAST WIND AND THE WHITE ELEPHANT
“IF YOU take MY advice, you won’t go near the East Wind at present,” said a tiny, familiar voice, “he’s in a terrible rage!”