“The what, captain?” cried Don.
“Why, d'ye mind me, lad,” the captain proceeded to explain, “when them lubberly land-swabs as pilots elephants—which I means mahouts, d'ye see—when they wants to go aloft, so to say, how does they manage the business? I axes. They lays hold on the warmint's tail, says you, and up they goes over the starn. Wery good! This 'ere's a Elephant Rock as we're at the present moment inwestigatin' into, d'ye mind me, an' when betimes the lubberly crew as mans it is ordered aloft onto the animile's back, why, up these 'ere steps they goes. An' so I calls 'em the tail o' the 'Elephant'—an' why not? I axes.”
Don gripped the old sailor's hand impulsively.
“Hurrah! this discovery's worth a dozen hours' groping underground, captain!” he cried. “For if the natives can gain the Elephant Rock by following this passage, why can't we do the same? Jack, old boy, if you're still alive—which you are, please God!—we'll find you yet!”
“Ay, at the risk of our wery lives, if need be!” responded the captain, in tones that lost none of their heartiness through being a bit husky. “An' the bag o' pearls, too, for the matter o' that, lad,” he added; “for, d'ye see, as the old song says:
We always be ready,
Steady, lad, steady!
We'll fight an' we'll conquer agin and agin!
“Howsomedever, fightin' without wittles ain't to be thought of, no more'n without powder, says you; so 'bout ship an' bear away for the Ha'nted Pagodas!”
“Thank Heaven for the fire and that tumbledown wall!” ejaculated Don as they retraced their steps to the platform. “Chance has done for us what no planning—or fighting either, for the matter of that—could ever have done. We started on a wrong road, but, all the same, it has led us to the right place.”