"She's petulant to-day, the lady!" he chuckled. "Wait till you see
Mitha Baba, Skag Sahib."
Down through the great trees a handsome female elephant approached, careering at a curious choppy gait. With her trunk well up, she was trumpeting every third step.
"What's the matter with her?" Skag asked.
"She's abused, Skag Sahib." The boy became a bit embarrassed; hesitating, before he went on: "The Hakima used to speak to her whenever she passed Miss Annesley's bungalow; and now—she's not there to do it."
Horace waved his hand to Mitha Baba's mahout; and the mahout shouted something in a dialect Skag did not know.
"He's awfully proud of Mitha Baba; and it's true, Skag Sahib, there isn't anything in grey beyond her; but—" Horace stopped, suddenly gone wistful.
"What's the trouble?" Skag asked, startled.
"They won't let me near him—they won't let me! I want him more than anything I know—"
"Then you'll get him!" interrupted Skag.
It must have been the sureness in Skag's voice, that made some choking tightness way back in the boy's soul let go; whole vistas of possibilities opened up.