As Delhi backed away from the water's edge, under the blows of her mahout's sharp, steel prod, she flung the Dutchman's bundle and stick at the thrashing forms in the water, and followed these with the buckets.
"I can do oop a shink mit vone hand," gurgled the Dutchman, as his dripping head appeared above the surface of the river; "aber ven a goople oof elephants iss rung indo der game, den I don'd—— Wow!"
The handkerchief bundle, hurled with terrific force, struck him on the head and sent him under.
"Dutchy boy no good!" spluttered the Chinaman. "Him velly fine false alarm—— Woosh!"
One of the buckets hit the Celestial in the small of the back and he vanished in a flurry of bubbles. When he and the Dutchman again reappeared, Delhi and Rajah were under control and no further danger threatened.
"What's the matter with you two kids?" cried Delhi's mahout, excited and angry.
"Der shink drew some vater on me," answered the Dutchman, "und made more monkey-doodle pitzness dan I vould shtand for."
"Him no savvy," declared the Chinese. "El'fant makee thlow water."
Rajah's mahout was a Hindoo. In a queer jargon of broken English, he described the way Rajah had hosed down the Dutchman as the latter was walking off.
The other mahout lost his wrath in a flood of merriment.