g every other minute.

Big Toomai prodded Kala Nag spitefully, for he was very angry, but
Little Toomai was too happy to speak. Petersen Sahib had noticed him,
and given him money, so he felt as a private soldier would feel if he
had been called out of the ranks and praised by his commander-in-chief.

"What did Petersen Sahib mean by the elephant dance?" he said, at last,
softly to his mother.

Big Toomai heard him and grunted. "That thou shouldst never be one of
these hill buffaloes of trackers. That was what he meant. Oh, you in
front, what is blocking the way?"

An Assamese driver, two or three elephants ahead, turned round angrily,
crying: "Bring up Kala Nag, and knock this youngster of mine into good
behavior. Why should Petersen Sahib have chosen me to go down with you
donkeys of the rice fields? Lay your beast alongside, Toomai, and
let him prod with his tusks. By all the Gods of the Hills, these new
elephants are possessed, or else they can smell their companions in the
jungle." Kala Nag hit the new elephant in the ribs and knocked the
wind out of him, as Big Toomai said, "We have swept the hills of wild
elephants at the last catch. It is only your carelessness in driving.
Must I keep order along the whole line?"

"Hear him!" said the other driver. "We have swept the hills! Ho! Ho! You
are very wise, you plains people. Anyone but a mud-head who never saw
the jungle would know that they know that the drives are ended for the
season. Therefore all the wild elephants to-night will--but why should I
waste wisdom on a river-turtle?"

"What will they do?" Little Toomai called out.

"Ohe, little one. Art thou there? Well, I will tell thee, for thou hast
a cool head. They will dance, and it behooves thy father, who has
swept all the hills of all the elephants, to double-chain his pickets
to-night."

"What talk is this?" said Big Toomai. "For forty years, father and son,
we have tended elephants, and we have never heard such moonshine about
dances."

"Yes; but a plainsman who lives in a hut knows only the four walls
of his hut. Well, leave thy elephants unshackled tonight and see what
comes. As for their dancing, I have seen the place where--Bapree-bap!
How many windings has the Dihang River? Here is another ford, and we
must swim the calves. Stop still, you behind there."

And in this way, talking and wrangling and splashing through the rivers,
they made their first march to a sort of receiving camp for the