After tea they walked along the great Highway-of-all-India, by the edge of the native town and over the low stone bridge. Beyond the river, they passed acres of tenting. A glamour of dust lay in the slanting sun-rays. An intense earth-smell penetrated Skag's senses. A feel of excitement was in the air.
"Where are the elephants?" Skag asked.
"How do you know it's elephants?" the boy countered.
"Several ways; but last of all, I smell 'em."
"It is elephants—much elephants. You are to see them in one of their big works in the Indian elephant-military department."
This announcement of the programme instantly made Skag forget that he had come out with a lad in need of healthy comradeship.
"What work?" he asked.
"This is elephant concerns, Skag Sahib," the boy replied; "they work with men and they work for men, but no one knows what they think about the man-end of it; because they are always and always doing things men never expect. They do funny things and strange things and wonderful things. It's the inside working of an elephant regiment, that makes it so different from anything else.
"It's all tied up with men on the outside; but you mustn't notice the outside. Inside is what I mean—the elephant concerns. No one knows what it will be to-day."
"Have you forgotten Nut Kut?" smiled Skag.