‘Call up your beast,’ said the planter, and Deesa shouted in the mysterious elephant-language, that some mahouts believe came from China at the birth of the world, when elephants and not men were masters. Moti Guj heard and came. Elephants do not gallop. They move from spots at varying rates of speed. If an elephant wished to catch an express train he could not gallop, but he could catch the train. Thus Moti Guj was at the planter’s door almost before Chihun noticed that he had left his pickets. He fell into Deesa’s arms trumpeting with joy, and the man and beast wept and slobbered over each other, and handled each other from head to heel to see that no harm had befallen. ‘Now we will get to work,’ said Deesa. ‘Lift me up, my son and my joy.’ Moti Guj swung him up and the two went to the coffee-clearing to look for irksome stumps. The planter was too astonished to be very angry. L’ENVOI My new-cut ashlar takes the light Where crimson-blank the windows flare; By my own work, before the night, Great Overseer, I make my prayer. If there be good in that I wrought, Thy hand compelled it, Master, Thine; Where I have failed to meet Thy thought I know, through Thee, the blame is mine. One instant’s toil to Thee denied Stands all Eternity’s offence, Of that I did with Thee to guide To Thee, through Thee, be excellence. Who, lest all thought of Eden fade, Bring’st Eden to the craftsman’s brain, Godlike to muse o’er his own trade And Manlike stand with God again. The depth and dream of my desire, The bitter paths wherein I stray, Thou knowest Who hast made the Fire, Thou knowest Who hast made the Clay. One stone the more swings to her place In that dread Temple of Thy Worth --It is enough that through Thy grace I saw naught common on Thy earth. Take not that vision from my ken; Oh whatso’er may spoil or speed, Help me to need no aid from men That I may help such men as need! End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Life’s Handicap, by Rudyard Kipling