and the punishment was continued until Mowla Buksh was
thoroughly subdued, and compelled by his conquerors to return to his
standing-place, where he was finally and firmly secured. Thus, at last,
ended this exciting and most unexpected commencement to our hunt, and
the whole camp was soon after steeped in silence and repose. Not a bad
beginning, eh, Junkie?"

"Yes, but go on wi' the hunt," said the boy with eager promptitude, a
request which was loudly echoed by his brothers.

"No, no, boys; you've had enough to digest for one day; besides, I see
the cart coming up the road to fetch our deer. And perhaps your father
has more work cut out for us."

"Well, not much," replied the laird, who had been quite as much
interested in the elephant story as his sons. "There is another drive
on the east side of the hill, which we have still time for, though I
don't expect much from it. However, we can try it. Come now, lads,
we'll be going."

"Shames," said Captain McPherson, as the party moved away from the
lunching-ground, "I wonder if a good thrashin' like that would make the
elephant a better beast afterwards?"

"Weel now, Captain Mcphairson, I don't think it would," replied McGregor
after a pause for consideration.

"You are right, Shames," said Ian Anderson, the old fisherman, who was a
deep-thinking man. "It has always appeared to me, that the object of
poonishment, is a not to make us coot, but to make us obedient."

"Then what for are ye always poonishin' me, an' tellin' me to be coot,
when ye say it won't make me coot?" asked Donald.

"Because, Tonal', it iss my duty to _tell_ ye to be coot, although I
cannot _make_ ye coot, ye rascal!" answered the fisherman, sternly; "but
I can make ye obey me by poonishin' you--ay, an' I wull do it too."

Donald knew too well from experience that it was not safe to attempt
arguing the question, but he gave a peculiarly defiant shake of his
ragged head, which said as plainly as words that the time was coming
when "poonishment" would cease to secure even obedience--at least in his
case!

"You are right, Ian," said Jackman, turning round, for he had overheard
the conversation. "Punishment compelled Mowla Buksh to walk to his
standing-place and submit to be tied up, for he did not dare to disobey
with Isri Pershad and Raj Mungul standing guard over him, but it
certainly did not make him good. I went, with many others, to see him
the next morning. On the way over to th