And the multitude of huge beasts was waiting for him.  All the swaying trunks were lifted together and pointed towards him to sense him, with a unanimity of motion that made it seem as if they were receiving him with a salute.  And, as Badshah moved on into the centre of the vast herd and stopped, again the murmured welcome rumbled from the great throats.

Dermot slung his rifle on his back.  It would not be needed now.  He resigned himself to anything that might happen and was filled with an immense curiosity.  Was there really some truth in the stories about Badshah, some foundation for the natives’ belief in his mysterious powers?  This reception of him by the immense gathering of his kind was beyond credence Dermot knew that wild elephants do not welcome a strange male into a herd.  He has to fight, and fight hard, for admission, which he can only gain by defeating the bull that is its leader and tyrant.  But that several herds should come together—­for that there were several was evident, since the greatest strength of a herd rarely exceeds a hundred individuals—­to meet an escaped domesticated elephant, and apparently by appointment, was too fantastic to be credited by any one acquainted with the habits of these animals.  Yet here it was happening before his eyes.  The soldier gave up attempting to understand it and simply accepted the fact.

He looked around him.  There were elephants of every type, of all ages.  Some were very old, as he could tell from their lean, fleshless skulls, their sunken temples and hollow eyes, emaciated bodies and straight, thin legs.  And the clearest proof of their age was their ears, which lapped over very much at the top and were torn and ragged at the lower edges.

There were bull-elephants in the prime of life, from twenty-five to thirty-five years old, with great heads, short, thick legs bowed out with masses of muscle, and bodies with straight backs sloping to the long, well-feathered tails.  Most of them were tuskers—­and the sight of one magnificent bull near Dermot made the sportsman’s trigger-finger itch, so splendid were its tusks—­shapely, spreading outward and upward in a graceful sweep, and each nearly six feet in length along the outside curve.

There was a large proportion of females and calves in the assemblage.  The youngest ones were about four or five months old.  A few had not shed their first woolly coat; and many of the male babies could not boast of even the tiniest tusks.

Badshah was now completely surrounded, for the elephants had closed in on him from every side.  He raised his trunk.  At once the nearest animals extended theirs towards him.  These he touched, and they in their turn touched those of their neighbours beyond his reach.  They did the same to others farther away, and so the action was repeated and carried on throughout the herd by all except the youngest calves.

Dermot was wondering whether this meant a greeting or a command from Badshah, when there was a sudden stir among the animals, and soon the whole mass was in motion.  Then he saw that the elephants were moving into single file, the formation in which they always march.  Badshah alone remained where he was.