Each mahout carried a gun, one a heavy rifle, the other a double-barrelled fowling-piece, which they offered to Wargrave.

“Huzoor!” (the Presence—­a polite mode of address in Hindustani), said one man, “the Burra Sahib (the Political Sahib) sends salaams and lends you these, as you might see something to shoot on the way.”

“Oh, the Political Officer.  Very kind of him, I’m sure,” remarked the subaltern.  “What is his name?”

“Durro-Mut Sahib.”

“What a curious name!” thought Frank.  For in the vernacular “durro mut!” means, “Do not be afraid!” He concluded that it was a nickname.

“Why is he called that?” he asked in Hindustani.

“Because the Sahib is a very brave sahib,” replied the man.  “Where he is there no one need fear.”

The other mahout nodded assent, then said: 

“The Commanding Sahib has sent Your Honour from the Mess a basket with food and drink.  I have put it on the table in the babu’s (clerk’s) office in the station.”

Frank blessed his new C.O. for his thoughtfulness and made a welcome meal while he watched his baggage being loaded on to one of the elephants.

“Buth!” (Lie down) cried the mahout; and the obedient animal slowly sank to its knees and stretched out its legs before and behind.  Frank’s “boy” mounted timorously when the luggage had been strapped on to the pad.  When the subaltern was ready the second elephant was ordered to kneel down for him; and he clambered up awkwardly and clung on tightly when the mahout, getting astride of the great neck, made it rise.

Along a broad road cut through the forest the huge beasts lumbered with a plunging, swaying stride that was very tiring to a novice.  Holding both guns Frank glanced continually ahead, aside and behind him with a delicious feeling of excited hope that at any moment some dangerous wild beast might appear.  On either hand the dense undergrowth of great, flower-covered bushes and curving fan-shaped palms, restricted the view to a few yards.  From its dense tangle rose the giant trunks of huge trees, their leafy crowns striving to push through the thick canopy of vegetation overhead into the life-giving air and sunshine.

But no wild animal appeared to cheer Wargrave on the long way; and as hour after hour went by his whole body ached with the strain of sitting upright without a support to his back and being jolted violently at every step of the elephant.  At last they reached a clearing in the forest where stood the mahout’s huts and a tall, wooden building, the peelkhana, or elephant stables.  It lay at the foot of the mountains; and from here the road wound upwards among the lower hills, under steep cliffs, by the brink of precipices and beside deep ravines down which brawling streams tumbled.