he sight that he
did not notice what was nearer. The whole panorama held his breath
till right before him a great creature rose from sitting--without a
sound. There was a dignity about its movement not less than majestic.
It was a mighty load; but the huge shape slid away as smooth as flowing
water--as easy as a drifting cloud.

A deep voice said quietly:

"Peace, master; go thy way. Peace, son."

"Did he speak to both of them?" Skag asked of Horace.

"Yes; the first part was to the elephant and the last part was to the
mahout. This mahout must be one of the great ones, else the
master-mahout would not have spoken to him. But he will always speak
to the elephants--something."

A strange name filled the air, rolling up and away. It was followed by
a courteous request, in softer tones; and Skag watched another big
elephant approach from the unpicketed lines. It came to where the
master-mahout stood, close to a pile of tenting, wheeled to face the
way it should go presently, and sank down to be loaded.

Men did the lifting into place and the lashing on. There was detail in
the process, to which the elephant adjusted his body as intelligently
as they adjusted theirs. When they required to reach under with the
broad canvas bands, he rose a little without being told. Indeed they
seldom spoke even to each other; and then in undertones. The
elephant's mahout sat in his place on the neck, as if he were a part of
the neck itself.

The smoothness, the ease of it all, amazed Skag. That every good
night, spoken to every separate elephant, was different--peculiar to
itself--was no less astounding. It was never as if addressed to an
animal, or even to a child; but always as if to a mature and
understanding intelligence. As when the master-mahout said to one
female:

"Fortune to thee, great Lady. May the gods guard that foot. And have
a care in going down the khuds--it is that mercy should be shown us,
thy friends."

And again to a young male, whose movements were very self-conscious:

"Remember there is to be no tamasha to-night, thou son of destiny. It
is not yet in thy head--to determine when shall be tamasha. Fifty
years hence, and when wisdom shall be come to thee, thou heir of
ancient learning, then we shall have tamasha at thy bidding."

. . . A monster female came at the call of her name, with a long heavy
chain--one end securely attached to her. The other end she handled
with her trunk. Advan