up in
his trunk and held him level with Pudmini's forehead, in front of the
great Petersen Sahib. Then Little Toomai covered his face with his
hands, for he was only a child, and except where elephants were
concerned, he was just as bashful as a child could be.

"Oho!" said Petersen Sahib, smiling underneath his mustache, "and why
didst thou teach thy elephant that trick? Was it to help thee steal
green corn from the roofs of the houses when the ears are put out to
dry?"

"Not green corn, Protector of the Poor,--melons," said Little Toomai,
and all the men sitting about broke into a roar of laughter. Most of
them had taught their elephants that trick when they were boys. Little
Toomai was hanging eight feet up in the air, and he wished very much
that he were eight feet underground.

"He is Toomai, my son, Sahib," said Big Toomai, scowling. "He is a very
bad boy, and he will end in a jail, Sahib."

"Of that I have my doubts," said Petersen Sahib. "A boy who can face a
full Keddah at his age does not end in jails. See, little one, here are
four annas to spend in sweetmeats because thou hast a little head under
that great thatch of hair. In time thou mayest become a hunter too." Big
Toomai scowled more than ever. "Remember, though, that Keddahs are not
good for children to play in," Petersen Sahib went on.

"Must I never go there, Sahib?" asked Little Toomai with a big gasp.

"Yes." Petersen Sahib smiled again. "When thou hast seen the elephants
dance. That is the proper time. Come to me when thou hast seen the
elephants dance, and then I will let thee go into all the Keddahs."

There was another roar of laughter, for that is an old joke among
elephant-catchers, and it means just never. There are great cleared flat
places hidden away in the forests that are called elephants' ball-rooms,
but even these are only found by accident, and no man has ever seen the
elephants dance. When a driver boasts of his skill and bravery the other
drivers say, "And when didst thou see the elephants dance?"

Kala Nag put Little Toomai down, and he bowed to the earth again and
went away with his father, and gave the silver four-anna piece to his
mother, who was nursing his baby brother, and they all were put up on
Kala Nag's back, and the line of grunting, squealing elephants rolled
down the hill path to the plains. It was a very lively march on account
of the new elephants, who gave trouble at every ford, and needed coaxing
or beatin