most wonderful things that ever
happened. They say it has been done; but I've never seen it--I've
never seen it myself."

Skag saw a powerful elephant coming back alongside the loaded line. He
did not move with the same smooth flowing motion as the others. He
walked as if he were coming on important business. With a load on his
back, he returned and sank down beside the pile of tenting intended for
another elephant.

"What's the meaning of it?" Skag asked.

Little Horace Dickson answered in a hushed way--as one in the presence
of a miracle:

"It is one of the regulars, come back to take a part of what belongs to
the sick elephant."

Skag looked at the boy's face, in incredulous amazement. It was
lit--awe and exaltation were both there. Then he noticed the look of
the master-mahout--that was a revelation.

. . . They were putting half as much again on top of the already loaded
elephant.

. . . Certain phrases went through Skag's brain, as he watched the
thing done--over and over. _No one had called this elephant back. He
came before they knew themselves that an elephant was sick. When the
mahouts first went to examine the sick one--this one was already on the
way. How did he know?_

The extra loaded elephant rose and started again. Then a great shout
went up. Tones of many voices filled the slanting sun-rays in all the
glamour of dust. The wonderful voice of the master-mahout loomed above
all:

"Wisdom and excellence are thy parts, oh Thou! Justice and
kindness--we who are poor in them--will learn of thee! Thou son of
strength, thou child of ancient knowledges and worth!"

And the mahouts shouted again!

At that moment Skag knew as well as he knew anything in life, that he
stood somewhere in the outer courts of a great animal-cult; and he was
convinced that it was of a mystic nature--however that could be. He
swore in his heart that he would never give up, till he got further in.

The master-mahout's voice ascended now on a strange call. It was a
lift-lift-lifting tone.

"What does that mean?" Skag asked.

"All the elephants know that--it's the lifting call," Horace explained.
"When an elephant is sick--unless they have an extra number in the
regiment--they always call for two to volunteer; and they divide the
load of the sick elephant between them. They use these tones instead
of a name--just for that. There comes a male now, to take the rest of
this load."

Skag watched the add