"No," replied Hathi; "they whipped him into a gentle behavior. Two big Bulls with heavy iron chains swinging from their trunks thrashed him until he promised to cease making trouble. But one day he broke out bad, and smashed everything—tore the Master's dogcart to pieces, knocked the Cooly's haudas down, and trumpeted like an evil jungle spirit. He even killed his Mahout, which was a silly thing, though he declared his driver, the Mahout, sitting up on his back, one foot on either side, had prodded viciously at his head until poor Rogue's blood was on fire.
"But in the end they sent me away to Sa'-zada, and I am quite content"; and reaching his big trunk over to the Keeper, Hathi caressed the latter's cheek lovingly.
"Oh, we are all content," declared Magh; "for Sa'-zada is a kind and gentle Master."
"Now, all to your cages and your pens," cried the Keeper, "for it is late. To-morrow night, perhaps, we shall have the tale of Gidar, the Jackal."
Third Night
The Stories of Gidar, the Jackal,
and Coyote, the Prairie Wolf
