He thanked the Panthay again and again, and patted his bare, smooth shoulder, and the native grinned and bowed before him. Then the wood-cutter pointed to the ground, and Jack nodded. He saw that the man wished him to drop from the howdah and leave the elephant. Jack was perfectly willing. It was plain that the pad-elephant meant to stick to his new friends and follow them wherever they roved. The Panthay slipped down the right flank of the elephant and dropped to his feet like a cat. Jack was wretchedly stiff, but he also climbed over the side of the carriage which had been his prison, and let himself slide over the elephant's tail. "I shall stand the least chance of being trodden on that way," thought Jack. He dropped to the ground all right, for the pad-elephant took not the least notice of their movements. But as for keeping his feet, that was impossible. He rolled to the earth, for his ankles were even more numbed than his wrists. At this instant the second Panthay ran up. The natives seemed to understand at once what was wrong, for both began to rub Jack's ankles and wrists briskly. Jack had to set his teeth to keep back a cry of pain. After the long numbing confinement, it was pure agony when the blood began to move freely once more, but he grinned and bore it, and soon began to feel better for the treatment. When he could stand up and walk a little, the Panthays beckoned to him to accompany them, and they went down the ravine, following the track used by the wild inhabitants of the place. The dusk was falling over the jungle when they reached the camp of the Panthays, a deep cave in the side of the ravine, where a few simple cooking-pots and a small store of rice furnished all the woodmen needed. By signs Jack was invited to sit down on a big heap of dried grass at the side of the cave, and one of the men swiftly built a fire and put on a pot of rice to cook. Soon the simple meal was ready. The cooking-pot was swung from the fire, and the rice was flavoured with salt and other condiments; each of the latter articles was contained in a small neat cylinder of bamboo, and packed away again when done with in the basket which was the only baggage of the teak-cutters. Jack was as hungry as a wolf, and he ate heartily of the food which his new friends offered to him. They were extremely respectful, called him _phaya_, my lord, the only word of their speech which he could make out, and did not touch a single grain of rice until he had finished. While they ate, Jack rested on the soft, dried grass, and went through his pockets to see where he stood. Somewhat to his surprise, Jack found that his captors had relieved him of nothing save his weapons. His money-belt round his waist, the contents of his pockets, his watch, everything had been left untouched.