oise,
a bit between a grunt and squeak, quite ridiculous for a huge black
hairy beast like him; if I had had any breath to waste it would have
made me laugh.

Now we heard that funny little noise--Uweekuweekuweek--just like that,
coming over the road; we hadn't time to look. Never did any road I ever
crossed seem so long; it was like a bad dream. We slipped and stumbled
and didn't seem to make any headway, and every moment I expected to
feel that great head in the flat of my back sending me sprawling ready
to be spiked. At last we reached the line of bushes, and I gave Joyce a
great pull with all my strength to pitch her to one side, for he was
close on us then, and she went headlong and fell full length into the
bushes, and I dropped on the top of her just as his majesty thundered
past.

We lay there quiet as mice, though it was awfully uncomfortable; I was
squashing Joyce to bits, and great thorns seemed running into me all
over. Then a dreadful thought occurred to me--there were probably snakes
there! Which was worst, snakes or the buffalo? And I asked cautiously--

"Have you been stung, Joyce?" and she answered so gravely, "Not yet,"
that I exploded, and, would you believe it, that old animal that had
been rootling about in the bushes to find us, heard it and came at us
again. We scrambled up and ran, tripping and tearing and crashing on
into that wood, and I think he found some difficulty in following us,
for after a while we couldn't hear him any more.

We stopped and listened with all our ears, but it seemed as if we were
safe, for he wasn't a crafty animal and didn't know enough to come along
quietly and surprise us. It was very dark there in that jungle, and for
the first time I thought of you and how anxious you and Joyce's mother
would be. So I said, "Come along home now," and pulled hold of Joyce.
But she resisted and said, "It's not that way, silly; it's just the
opposite."

I was positive and so was she.

I tried to think of all the things one tells by: the stars, but there
weren't any, and I couldn't have done much with them if there had been;
the moss on the north side of the trees, but there didn't seem to be
any. I guess it's different in Burma. However, there was just a
yellowish glow still, and I knew that must be in the west, and as the
river runs north and south, and we were on the left bank, I guessed the
way I wanted to go was about right. When I had proved it to Joyce she
gave in and sai