a marshy place, which at first
they refused to cross. Then, before anything could be done to prevent
it, his elephant seized the driver with his trunk and, placing him in
the mud, used the poor native's body as a "stepping-stone." The driver
was, of course, crushed to death, and my friend only escaped a similar
fate by scrambling off his elephant by the tail. Generally elephants
are docile enough, but are not always fond of Europeans and very much
dislike a rider to approach too closely; but they rarely give trouble
to their drivers, for whom they often have a genuine affection.

Roads in the forest are few, and at best are only bridle-tracks,
difficult to ride over, and through which a way has often to be cut
with knives, so rapid is the growth.

Travelling is slow and often difficult, and towards the great heat of
midday men and animals are glad to rest, while another march in the
afternoon brings us, towards sunset, to our next halting-place. Then
fuel for the fires must be collected to prepare the evening meal, beds
made ready, and the animals attended to. The ponies are tethered
underneath the "tai," while the elephants, wearing a wooden bell
called "kalouk," are turned loose into the forest, where their drivers
quickly track them down again in the morning by the sound of their
bell.

About sundown a strange hush comes over the forest, and the leaves
hang limply after the great heat of the day. Insects and birds give up
their activities, and are preparing to roost or lying in the various
hiding-places they frequent. All Nature seems to be _tired_, and
little wonder when the thermometer has shown 105 deg. of moist heat!

Suddenly with the cooling of the air a shiver and a rustle passes over
the tree-tops as the sundown breeze brings relief to the tired world.
Immediately the forest is alive again, but with new inhabitants. The
dancing fireflies weave rings of bluish light around the tree-trunks,
already half lost in the gathering darkness; crickets and tree-frogs
contribute to the growing sounds of the woody solitude; while the
stealthy tread of some prowling animal is faintly heard among the
withered debris of the undergrowth. It is no longer safe to wander
from the camp-fire, whose flames, shooting upwards in straight
tongues, light up the nearer trees in contrast to the blackness
beyond, in which many a dangerous wild beast lurks. Within the circle
which our camp-fire lights is safety, and in the now cold nig