"Why not?" asked Tum Tum, who could easily understand the language of the tame elephant. "Why should I not break the fence, and let my friends, and my father and mother, out of this trap. Why not?"
"Because," answered the tame elephant, with the chains, "you cannot do it. Already you are held with ropes, and soon we will put more chains on you, so that you cannot move."
"And why would you—you who are elephants like ourselves—why would you do this to us, who never harmed you?" asked Tum Tum.
"Because it is for your good," said the tame elephant. "The white hunters are very strong. You may get away from them now, but they will come after you again. It is better to give in now. If you are good, and do not try to break down the fence, you will wear no chains."
"But what will happen to us—to me and my father and mother?" asked Tum Tum.
"You will be put to work, piling teak logs in the woods," said the tame elephant. "You will have enough to eat, you will have shelter from the rain and the flies. You will have water to drink and to wash in. It is a good life. I like it."
"Is that all that will happen to me?" asked Tum Tum.
"Perhaps not," answered the tame elephant. "You may be sent far across the big water, in a house that floats, and go, as other elephants have gone, to a circus, or menagerie, for the boys and girls to look at, and feed peanuts to."
"What are peanuts?" asked Tum Tum, who was hungry.
"I do not know, never having eaten any," said the tame elephant. "But one of my brothers, who was in a circus in a far off land, and who came back here, said they were very good. Now shall we put the chains on you—I and my tame brothers—or will you be quiet—you and the others?"