harged as he was with his long study of
Euclid, evidently considering it to be his duty for the benefit of his
pupils to describe a straight line.

But he was soon distanced by the boys, whose wind was much better. The
last, as if he considered it his duty to protect the rear, was the
Doctor himself, looking exceedingly red in the face and breathing very
hard. But, truth to tell, he--not being either a general, admiral, or
even captain of a vessel of war--was not influenced by any brave
intention to leave the field or vessel only after the last of his men.
The Doctor's proceedings were caused by inability to keep up.

But he was not the last. The sight of an elephant cantering across
country, or in its customary shuffling gait, was nothing new to Singh
and Glyn. Experience gained in more than one hunt, and in a land where
these mammoth-like creatures are beasts of burden, as well as perhaps a
feeling that if they did happen to be pursued youth and activity would
enable them to get out of the brute's way, caused the two boys to stand
fast alone upon the last form, thoroughly enjoying the acts of the
performer, and wondering what he would do next.

"Oh, Glyn," cried Singh, clapping his hands as hard as he could, "and I
was grumbling! Why, this is a procession! I haven't seen anything like
this since we left home."

"No," panted Glyn, who was as excited as his companion. "Why, it's like
old Rajah Jamjar, as we used to call him, on the rampage. Here come the
men," he continued.--"Hi! I say, the Doctor won't like you breaking
through his hedge," he shouted, though his words were not heard.--"He's
broken a way for them, though."

"Here," shouted Singh, with his hands to his mouth, "you mustn't go
after that elephant with whips. He's raging, and if you go near he'll
turn upon you perhaps, and kill you."

But the men could not hear his words, and, each with his big carter's
whip, they followed slowly across the field, unheeded by the elephant,
and evidently without the slightest intention of overtaking the
fugitive.

The great brute turned neither to the right nor left, but stopped as
soon as he reached the row of elms, beyond which were the garden and
grounds of the most important resident in Plymborough, a very wealthy
retired merchant, who took great pride in his estate, and whose orchard
annually displayed a vast abundance of red and gold temptations of the
kind beloved by boys in other counties as well as