em?"

"No, it not that," answered Kobo, in the same subdued accents. "Beasts
hear elephant coming down to drink. All get out of elephant's way. He
king among them. Listen, you hear them."

"Do you really mean it, Kobo?" asked Nick, astonished at this
information. "The lions and rhinoceroses can't really be so much afraid
of the elephants as that comes to?"

"I believe it's true," said Frank; "I know I've been told so before. A
lion or a rhinoceros wouldn't mind a single elephant much, I dare say;
but it's the whole troop of 'em together that they're afraid of. They'd
run right over a lion, or a rhinoceros either, and trample the life out
of them, before they knew where they were. Yes, Kobo's right. Here
they come over that low bit of hill there. What a lot! and what
thundering big beasts!"

As he spoke, a dull heavy sound, like the roll of loaded waggons along a
hard road was heard; and the figure of an enormous elephant emerged from
the cover of the thicket, its broad flat head, huge misshapen ears, and
white tusks glistening in the broad moonlight. It was followed by
another, and another, each seeming to loom larger than the last, until
ten of the monsters had reached the banks of the tarn, all of them
males, and of the largest size.

"All bull," whispered Kobo; "bull drink first, females wait till they
done."

While he was speaking, the elephants had advanced up to their mid-legs
in the water, and dipping their trunks in, sucked up the cooling stream
with a loud gurgling noise. Frank's fingers insensibly stole to the
lock of his rifle. One of the largest of the giants was now scarcely
more than four or five yards from him, its figure as plainly visible in
the clear cold light, as though it had been noonday. Kobo had again to
lay his hand on the boy's shoulder, and whisper in his ear, "No shoot,
spoil hunt to-morrow," or he might not have been able to resist the
temptation.

Presently, however, the males had satisfied their thirst, and moving off
slowly in a different direction from that by which they had approached
the pond, re-entered the thicket. The cow elephants now took their
places, some twenty or thirty in number, many of them with calves of
various ages at their sides. There was scarcely room in the tarn for
the whole herd, and before they retired, the bright and sparkling waters
had become a turbid and discoloured flood. At length, however, they did
retire, and before the moon had s