d.

Mitha Baba was beginning to show that she did not like the old mahout's
urging--but Mitha Baba was always willful. Indeed, the Gul Moti was
depending much on this same willfulness. The splendid female was still
young, but she had been for years a celebrated toiler of wild elephants;
and it was well known she had loved the game. Had she forgotten it?
Could she be reminded? First, it was supremely important to overtake all
the others this side the Nerbudda.

The old mahout gasped a broken cry, as Mitha Baba lifted him and set him
not too gently on the ground; she was in a hurry herself and she was
making speed on her own account--she objected to being urged. The Gul
Moti, understanding in a flash, cried quickly:

"No, no! Mitha Baba, I want him! Put him up to me--put him up to
me--soon!"

Mitha Baba wavered in her long stride.

"Mitha Baba, I want him--I want him!"

And the elephant turned on a circle and caught him up, throwing him far
enough back, so the Gul Moti could help him into the howdah.

"My day is done!" he said bitterly.

"Nay, father!" the girl physician answered him. "She knew you were not
safe there."

"Is it so?" the old man marvelled. "Indeed, she always loved me! Now I
am satisfied!"

Then, in the white fire of what men call genius, the Gul Moti stood up to
meet this new emergency--leaning toward Mitha Baba's head--and called in
ringing tones:

"Now come, Mitha Baba, we're away! We're going out to fetch them in!
Away, away, awa-a-ay!"

So long as he lived, the old mahout told of the intoxicating splendour of
that young voice--the golden beauty of those tones; of how Mitha Baba
reached out further and further every stride, to its rhythm, till the
earth rose up and the stars began to swing.

"We'll fetch them in, Mitha Baba, we'll fetch them in! . . . Away, away,
awa-a-ay!"

But the toiler of wild elephants had remembered the game she loved.

As they topped the crest of a low hill, the Gul Moti scanned the country
declining before her toward the Nerbudda. A string of jewels
appeared--incredibly gorgeous in mid-day light. It was thirty-eight
full-caparisoned elephants--going fast. Mitha Baba called on them to
wait for her; but they remained in sight only a few minutes. The Gul
Moti's high courage sank; the caravan was too near the river to be
delayed by Mitha Baba's calls--the river too far ahead.

"Do they ever obey her, Laka Din?" the Gul Moti asked.

"They alw