Junior High School Literature, Book 1Elson, William H. (William Harris)
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Junior High School Literature, Book 1
Elson, William H. (William Harris)
American literature; English literature; Readers
That decided the planter to argue no more, and Moti Guj rolled back to
his amateur inspection of the clearing. An elephant who will not work and
is not tied up is about as manageable as an eighty-one-ton gun loose in
a heavy seaway. He slapped old friends on the back and asked them if the
stumps were coming away easily; he talked nonsense concerning labor and
the inalienable rights of elephants to a long “nooning”; and, wandering
to and fro, he thoroughly demoralized the garden till sundown, when he
returned to his-picket for food.
“If you won’t work, you shan’t eat,” said Chihun, angrily. “You’re a wild
elephant, and no educated animal at all. Go back to your jungle.”
Chihun’s little brown baby was rolling on the floor of the hut, and
stretching out its fat arms to the huge shadow in the doorway. Moti Guj
knew well that it was the dearest thing on earth to Chihun. He swung out
his trunk with a fascinating crook at the end, and the brown baby threw
itself, shouting, upon it. Moti Guj made fast and pulled up till the
brown baby was crowing in the air twelve feet above his father’s head.
“Great Lord!” said Chihun. “Flour cakes of the best, twelve in number,
two feet across and soaked in rum, shall be yours on the instant, and two
hundred pounds weight of fresh-cut young sugar-cane therewith. Deign only
to put down safely that insignificant brat who is my heart and my life to
me!”
Moti Guj tucked the brown baby comfortably between his forefeet, that
could have knocked into toothpicks all Chihun’s hut, and waited for his
food. He ate it, and the brown baby crawled away. Moti Guj dozed and
thought of Deesa. One of many mysteries connected with the elephant is
that his huge body needs less sleep than anything else that lives. Four
or five hours in the night suffice—two just before midnight, lying down
on one side; two just after one o’clock, lying down on the other. The
rest of the silent hours are filled with eating and fidgeting, and long
grumbling soliloquies.
At midnight, therefore, Moti Guj strode out of his pickets, for a thought
had come to him that Deesa might be lying drunk somewhere in the dark
forest with none to look after him. So all that night he chased through
the undergrowth, blowing and trumpeting and shaking his ears. He went
down to the river and blared across the shallows where Deesa used to wash
him, but there was no answer. He could not find Deesa, but he disturbed
all the other elephants in the lines, and nearly frightened to death some
gypsies in the woods.
At dawn Deesa returned to the plantation. He had been very drunk indeed,
and he expected to get into trouble for outstaying his leave. He drew a
long breath when he saw that the bungalow and the plantation were still
uninjured, for he knew something of Moti Guj’s temper, and reported
himself with many lies and salaams. Moti Guj had gone to his pickets for
breakfast. The night exercise had made him hungry.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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