nsiderable as they valued money.

"This isn't bad for a haythen counthry," said Felix, as he stretched
himself on the lower couch. "We'll git to Calcutty widout breakin' ahl the
bones in our bodies."

"This is vastly better than anything I expected to find here," replied
Louis, as he pushed his crony over against the partition, and lay down at
his side.

"But where do the elephants and the tigers come in?" asked Scott, as he
called upon Moro to "shine" his shoes. "I haven't seen an elephant since I
came here."

"Elephants are not worked in this country," added Morris. "The Moguls use
them when they want to go in state, and sometimes when they go hunting
tigers; and then the big beast gets most of the hard scratches."

"But the elephant can take care of himself when the mahout allows him to do
so," argued Scott.

"Is the mahout his schnout?" asked Felix.

"You know better than that, Flix. The mahout is the fellow that sits on the
elephant's neck and conducts him. He is the driver," replied Morris.

"Is he afeerd of schnakes?"

"He needn't be, perched on the top of the pachyderm," answered Scott.

"Who is he? Oi've not been introjuced to 'm."

"Are you going among elephants, Flix, and don't know what a pachyderm is?"
demanded Scott.

"Oi see, it's the elephant, and ye's call him so bekase he carries his pack
on his bachk; and 'pon me worrud that's the roight place to carry it."

"I wonder if we are to have any hunting out here where we are going,"
suggested Scott. "How is it, Louis? You are in the ring with the Grand
Moguls."

"Sir Modava told me that the Maharajah whom we shall visit at Baroda is a
great sportsman, and always treats his guests to a hunt," answered Louis.

"Is it after schnakes?"

"No; but after tigers."

"But I want to hunt some schnakes; I'd loike to bring down a good-soized
cobry," said Felix, rising from his reclining posture.

"No, you wouldn't, Flix," sneered Scott. "If you saw a cobry, you would run
till you got back to Ireland."

"Is'ht me! Wud I roon from a cobry? Not mooch! Ain't I a lineal dayscindant
of St. Patrick?--long life to him! And didn't he dhrive all the schnakes
and toads out of the ould counthree! Jisht show me a cobry, and thin see me
roon!"

Before the Milesian could tell how he intended to kill the cobra if he saw
one, the train stopped; and a moment later Sir Modava, the commander, and
Mrs. Belgrade appeared at the door.

"We have come to make things a