The distance traversed was about twenty-five miles, and they had still as far to go to reach Allahabad. The night was quite chilly. A fire lighted by the Parsee was very acceptable, and the travellers made an excellent supper of the provisions they had purchased at Kholby. The intermittent conversation soon gave way to steady snoring. The guide kept watch by the elephant, which slept outside, supported by the trunk of an enormous tree. Nothing happened to disturb the party during the night. Now and then the growls of wild animals, or the chattering of monkeys, broke the silence, but nothing more terrible was heard, and the larger animals did not disturb the occupants of the bungalow. Sir Francis Cromarty "lay like a warrior taking his rest." Passe-partout, in a restless sleep, appeared to be practising the gymnastics he had executed on the elephant's back. As for Mr. Fogg, he slept as peacefully as if he were in his quiet bed in Saville Row. At six o'clock they resumed their journey. The guide hoped to reach Allahabad that evening. In that case Mr. Fogg would only lose a portion of the eight-and-forty hours already saved since the commencement of the trip. They descended the last slopes of the Vindhias. The elephant resumed his rapid pace. Towards mid-day the guide passed round the village of Kallenger on the Cani, one of the small affluents of the Ganges. He appeared to avoid all inhabited places, feeling more secure in the deserted tracts. Allahabad was thence only a dozen miles off in a north-easterly direction. They halted once more under a banana-tree, the fruit of which, as wholesome as bread and "as succulent as cream," as they said, was highly appreciated by our travellers. At two o'clock they entered a dense forest, which they had to traverse for some miles. The guide preferred to travel in the shade of the woods. So far at any rate they had encountered nothing unpleasant, and there was every reason to suppose that the journey would be accomplished without accident, when the elephant, after a few premonitory symptoms, stopped suddenly. It was then four o'clock in the afternoon. "What is the matter?" asked Sir Francis Cromarty, putting his head up over the top of his howdah. "I don't know, sir," replied the Parsee, listening intently to a confused murmuring sound which came through the thickly-interlacing branches. Soon the sound became more defined. One might have fancied it was a concert at a great distance; composed of human voices and brass instruments all performing at once. Passe-partout was all eyes and ears. Mr. Fogg waited patiently without uttering a word. The Parsee leaped down, fastened the elephant to a tree, and plunged into the thick underwood. In a few moments he came back, exclaiming: "A procession of Brahmins is coming this way! Let us hide ourselves if we can."