"Yes, he really is dying of starvation. He certainly has been confined here at least two weeks, that is, from the time when the old jungle was burnt. He ate everything that there was to eat and now is enduring torments; particularly as, here above, bread-fruit trees and acacias with great pods are growing, and he sees them but cannot reach them."
And for a while they again gazed in silence. The elephant from time to time turned towards them his small, languid eyes and something in the nature of a gurgle escaped from his throat.
"Indeed," the boy declared, "it is best to cut short his pangs."
Saying this, he raised the rifle to his face, but Nell clutched his jacket and, braced upon both of her little feet, began to pull him with all her strength away from the brink of the hollow.
"Stas! Don't do that! Stas, let us give him something to eat! He is so wretched! I don't want you to kill him! I don't want it! I don't!"
And stamping with her little feet, she did not cease pulling him, and he looked at her with great astonishment and, seeing her eyes filled with tears, said:
"But, Nell!—"
"I don't want it. I won't let him be killed! I shall get the fever if you kill him."
For Stas this threat was sufficient to make him forego his murderous design in regard to the elephant before them and in regard to anything else in the world. For a time he was silent, not knowing what reply to make to the little one, after which he said:
"Very well! very well! I tell you it is all right! Nell, let go of me!"