The children were principally pleased because the beast, being quick of comprehension and seriously minded, understood everything that was wanted of him and seemed to comprehend, not only every order, but even every nod. In this respect elephants surpass immeasurably all other domesticated animals, and the King, beyond comparison, surpassed Saba, who wagged his tail to all of Nell's admonitions and afterwards did whatever he pleased. The King discerned perfectly, for instance, that the person whom it was most necessary to obey was Stas, and that the person about whom all cared the most was Nell. So he most carefully complied with Stas' orders, and loved Nell the most. To Kali he paid less heed and Mea he slighted entirely.

Stas, after making the mine, inserted it in the deepest fissure, after which he plastered it wholly with clay, leaving only a small opening through which hung a fuse twisted of dry palm fiber and rubbed with fine powder. The decisive moment finally arrived. Stas personally lit the powdered rope, after which he ran as far as his legs could carry him to the tree in which previously he had fastened all the others. Nell was afraid that the King might be frightened too much, but the boy calmed her first with the statement that he had selected a day on which the morning was accompanied by a thunderstorm, and then with the assurance that wild elephants often hear the peal of thunder when the heavenly elements are unfettered over the jungle.

They sat, however, with palpitating hearts, counting minute after minute. A terrific roar so agitated the atmosphere that the sturdy baobab tree shook from top to bottom and remnants of the unscraped decayed wood poured upon their heads. Stas, at that moment, jumped out of the tree and, avoiding the bends of the ravine, ran to the passageway.

The results of the explosion appeared extraordinary. One half of the lime rock was reduced to minute fragments; the other half had burst into about a score of greater or smaller pieces, which the force of the explosion scattered to quite a distance.

The elephant was free.

The overjoyed boy now rushed to the edge of the ravine, where he found Nell with Mea and Kali. The King was startled a little and, retreating to the very brink of the ravine, stood with uplifted trunk, gazing in the direction from which came the sound of such unusual thunder. But when Nell began to call to him, when she came to him through the passageway, already opened, he became entirely quiet. More startled than the King were the horses, of which two dashed into the jungle, and it was not until sunset that Kali caught them.

That very same day Nell led the King "out into the world." The colossus followed her obediently, like a little puppy, and afterwards bathed in the river, and alone secured his supper in this singular manner: bracing his head against a big sycamore tree, he broke it like a feeble reed and afterwards carefully nibbled the fruit and the leaves.

Towards evening he returned, however, to the tree, and shoving, every little while, his enormous nose through an opening, sought for Nell so zealously and persistently that Stas finally was compelled to give his trunk a sound smack.

Kali, however, was the most overjoyed with the result of that day, for upon his shoulders had fallen the work of gathering provisions for the giant, which was by no means an easy task. So then Stas and Nell heard him, while lighting the fire for supper, sing a new hymn of joy, composed of the following words:

"The great master kills men and lions. Yah! Yah! The great master crushes rocks. Yah! Yah! The elephant, himself, breaks trees and Kali can be idle and eat. Yah! Yah!"