Horace flashed away and ran in among the massed elephants and mahouts.
Coming back to Skag, he said breathlessly:
"A mahout says the other one went before we came! That means, if Nut Kut comes—there'll be no one to manage him. You remember, Skag Sahib, I told you about the 'mother-thing'—if anyone starts a fight, she breaks it up with her chain; better than any two or three fighting males. Two tuskers just wake Nut Kut up!"
Then he stood staring at the female with her chain—getting red in the face as he spoke:
"Oh, I say! She doesn't want to be loaded; and she knows! Why, they know she knows! . . . Master-mahout!" he called in brave tones that trembled, "I am Dickson Sahib's son—of the grain-foods department—"
"We know you, Sahib, salaam!" interrupted the master-mahout, with a smile.
"Is it not the unwritten-law that the great 'mother-thing' shall be obeyed?" the boy quavered.
"It is the unwritten-law, Sahib; and we will not impose our will on her. It is this, there is no sign of what she means; the masters are all quiet to-day—there is no warning of tamasha."
The master-mahout spoke with grave consideration; but just as he finished, the "mother-thing" wheeled into place and went down to take her load.
"Cheer up, son, I guess it's all right," comforted Skag.
"It's all right—if Nut Kut doesn't come," said the boy, whimsically.