nd, catching the little girl to her
breast, I saw her go down upon her knees and hide her face, expecting,
no doubt, every moment, that the next one would be her boy's last; and,
indeed, we were all alarmed now, for the more we tried to get the little
chap away, the fiercer the elephant grew; the only one who did not seem
to mind being the boy himself though his sister now began to cry, and in
her little artless way I heard her ask her mother if the naughty
elephant would eat Clivey.

I've often thought since that if we'd been quiet, and left the beast
alone, he would soon have set the child down; and I've often thought
too, that Mr Chunder could have got the boy away if he had liked, only
he did nothing but tease and irritate the elephant, which was not the
best of friends with him. But you will easily understand that there was
not much time for thought then.

I had been doing my best along with the others, and then stood thinking
what I could be at next, when I caught Lizzy Green's eye turned to me in
an appealing, reproachful sort of way, that seemed to say as plainly as
could be: "Can't you do anything?" when all at once Measles shouts out:
"'Arry, 'Arry!" and Harry Lant came up at the double, having been busy
carrying arms out of the guard-room rack.

It was at one and the same moment that Harry Lant saw what was wrong,
and that a cold dull chill ran through me, for I saw Lizzy clasp her
hands together in a sort of thankful way, and it seemed to me then, as
Harry ran up to the elephant that he was always to be put before me, and
that I was nobody, and the sooner I was out of the way the better.

All the same, though, I couldn't help admiring the way Harry ran up to
the great brute, and did what none of us could manage. I quite hated
him, I know, but yet I was proud of my mate, as he went up and says
something to _Nabob_, and the elephant stands still. "Put him down,"
says Harry, pointing to the ground; and the great flesh-mountain puts
the little fellow down. "Now then," says Harry, to the honour of the
ladies, "pick him up again;" and in a twinkling the great thing whips
the boy up once more. "Now, bring him up to the colonel's lady." Well,
if you'll believe me, if the great thing didn't follow Harry like a
lamb, and carry the child up to where, half fainting, knelt poor Mrs
Maine. "Now, put him down," says Harry; and the next moment little
Clive Maine--Cock Robin, as we called him--was being hugged to h