my foot and Han's head, or rather felt hat. One final stretch and he
reached the hat, which he removed with a flourish and thrust into the
red cavern of his mouth. As it appeared no more I suppose he ate it.
This loss of his hat moved Hans to fury. Hurling horrible curses at Jana
he drew his butcher's knife and made ready.

Once more the sinuous brown trunk elongated itself. Evidently Jana had
got a better hold with his hind legs this time, or perhaps had actually
wriggled himself a few inches up the tree. At any rate I saw to my
dismay that there was every prospect of my making a second acquaintance
with that snapping tip. The end of the trunk was lying along my bough
like a huge brown snake and creeping up, up, up.

"He'll get us," I muttered.

Hans said nothing but leaned forward a little, holding on with his left
hand. Next instant in the light of the rising sun I saw a knife flash,
saw also that the point of it had been driven through the lower lip of
Jana's trunk, pinning it to the bough like a butterfly to a board.

My word! what a commotion ensued! Up the trunk came a scream which
nearly blew me away. Then Jana, with a wriggling motion, tried to unnail
himself as gently as possible, for it was clear that the knife point
hurt him, but could not do so because Hans still held the handle and had
driven the blade deep into the wood. Lastly he dragged himself downwards
with such energy that something had to go, that something being the skin
and muscle of the lower lip, which was cut clean through, leaving the
knife erect in the bough.

Over he went backwards, a most imperial cropper. Then he picked himself
up, thrust the tip of his trunk into his mouth, sucked it as one does a
cut finger, and finally, roaring in defeated rage, fled into the river,
which he waded, and back upon his tracks towards his own home. Yes, off
he went, Hans screaming curses and demands that he should restore his
hat to him, and very seldom in all my life have I seen a sight that I
thought more beautiful than that of his whisking tail.

"Now, Baas," chuckled Hans, "the old devil has got a sore nose as well
as a sore eye by which to remember us. And, Baas, I think we had better
be going before he has time to think and comes back with a long stick to
knock us out of this tree."

So we went, in double-quick time I can assure you, or at any rate as
fast as my stiff limbs and general condition would allow. Fortunately
we had now no doubt as