heavenly--no blots and smudges, no incoherence,
but sweet converse in the presence of the Lamb!"

XV

KEEPING THE TRYST

Maharaj was a very big elephant and Alec was a half-grown boy--an
insignificant human pigmy--in spite of which disparity they were great
pals, for Alec admired that mountain of strength as only an imaginative
boy can, and elephants can appreciate admiration.

When Alec came across Maharaj he had taken up his quarters temporarily
in the mango tope opposite the bungalow. He was pouring dust upon his
head and blowing it over his back, both because he enjoyed a dust bath
and because it helped to keep off the flies. With the quick perception
of a boy, Alec noticed he had used up all the dust within reach, so he
got him a few hatfuls from the roadside, for which he was very grateful,
and immediately sent a sand blast over his back that annihilated quite a
colony of mosquitoes. Then he admitted Alec to his friendship, and they
became pals.

Hard by the mahout was cooking his dinner under a tamarind-tree.

"Did the Sahib ask if he was clever? Wait, and the Sahib shall see. Here
are his six chapaties of flour that I am baking. Out of one only I
shall keep back a handful of meal. How should he detect so small a
quantity missing? But we shall see."

The elephant driver put on the cakes to bake--pancake-shaped things,
eighteen inches across and an inch thick. They took their time to cook,
for the fireplace was small, being only three bricks standing on the
ground. When they were ready he placed the cakes before Maharaj, who
eyed them suspiciously.

"He has been listening," explained the driver. "Those big ears of his
can hear talk a mile away. Go on, my son, eat. What is there wrong with
the food?"

Maharaj slowly took up a chapatie in his trunk, carefully weighed it and
put it on one side, took up another and did the same. The fourth
chapatie was the light one; this he found out at once and indignantly
threw it at the feet of the mahout, grumbling and gurgling and swinging
his head from side to side and stamping his forefoot in anger.

"What! son of a pig! is not the flour I eat good enough for thee also?
Well, starve then, for there is no better in the bazaar."

They walked away; the small restless eyes followed anxiously; yet the
elephant made no attempt to eat, but swung angrily from side to side in
his pickets. Presently they returned, but he had not touched a chapatie.

"It is no use,