He is afraid of me also, said Little Toomai, standing up to his full
height of four feet, with only one rag upon him. He was ten years old,
the eldest son of Big Toomai, and, according to custom, he would take
his father s place on Kala Nag s neck when he grew up, and would handle
the heavy iron ankus, the elephant goad, that had been worn smooth by
his father, and his grandfather, and his great-grandfather.
He knew what he was talking of; for he had been born under Kala Nag s
shadow, had played with the end of his trunk before he could walk, had
taken him down to water as soon as he could walk, and Kala Nag would no
more have dreamed of disobeying his shrill little orders than he would
have dreamed of killing him on that day when Big Toomai carried the
little brown baby under Kala Nag s tusks, and told him to salute his
master that was to be.
Yes, said Little Toomai, he is afraid of me, and he took long
strides up to Kala Nag, called him a fat old pig, and made him lift up
his feet one after the other.
Wah! said Little Toomai, thou art a big elephant, and he wagged his
fluffy head, quoting his father. The Government may pay for elephants,
but they belong to us mahouts. When thou art old, Kala Nag, there will
come some rich rajah, and he will buy thee from the Government, on
account of thy size and thy manners, and then thou wilt have nothing
to do but to carry gold earrings in thy ears, and a gold howdah on thy
back, and a red cloth covered with gold on thy sides, and walk at the
head of the processions of the King. Then I shall sit on thy neck, O
Kala Nag, with a silver ankus, and men will run before us with golden
sticks, crying, `Room for the King s elephant! That will be good, Kala
Nag, but not so good as this hunting in the jungles.
Umph! said Big Toomai. Thou art a boy, and as wild as a buffalo-calf.
This running up and down among the hills is not the best Government
service. I am getting old, and I do not love wild elephants. Give me
brick elephant lines, one stall to each elephant, and big stumps to tie
them to safely, and flat, broad roads to exercise upon, instead of this
come-and-go camping. Aha, the Cawnpore barracks were good. There was a
bazaar close by, and only three hours work a day.
Little Toomai remembered the Cawnpore elephant-lines and said nothing.
101