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Little
Toomai
pattered
after
him
,
barefooted
,
down
the
road
in
the
moonlight
,
calling
under
his
breath
,
"
Kala
Nag
!
Kala
Nag
!
Take
me
with
you
,
O
Kala
Nag
!
"
The
elephant
turned
,
without
a
sound
,
took
three
strides
back
to
the
boy
in
the
moonlight
,
put
down
his
trunk
,
swung
him
up
to
his
neck
,
and
almost
before
Little
Toomai
had
settled
his
knees
,
slipped
into
the
forest
.
There
was
one
blast
of
furious
trumpeting
from
the
lines
,
and
then
the
silence
shut
down
on
everything
,
and
Kala
Nag
began
to
move
.
Sometimes
a
tuft
of
high
grass
washed
along
his
sides
as
a
wave
washes
along
the
sides
of
a
ship
,
and
sometimes
a
cluster
of
wild-pepper
vines
would
scrape
along
his
back
,
or
a
bamboo
would
creak
where
his
shoulder
touched
it
.
But
between
those
times
he
moved
absolutely
without
any
sound
,
drifting
through
the
thick
Garo
forest
as
though
it
had
been
smoke
.
He
was
going
uphill
,
but
though
Little
Toomai
watched
the
stars
in
the
rifts
of
the
trees
,
he
could
not
tell
in
what
direction
.
Then
Kala
Nag
reached
the
crest
of
the
ascent
and
stopped
for
a
minute
,
and
Little
Toomai
could
see
the
tops
of
the
trees
lying
all
speckled
and
furry
under
the
moonlight
for
miles
and
miles
,
and
the
blue-white
mist
over
the
river
in
the
hollow
.
Toomai
leaned
forward
and
looked
,
and
he
felt
that
the
forest
was
awake
below
him
--
awake
and
alive
and
crowded
.
A
big
brown
fruit-eating
bat
brushed
past
his
ear
;
a
porcupine
's
quills
rattled
in
the
thicket
;
and
in
the
darkness
between
the
tree
stems
he
heard
a
hog-bear
digging
hard
in
the
moist
warm
earth
,
and
snuffing
as
it
digged
.
Then
the
branches
closed
over
his
head
again
,
and
Kala
Nag
began
to
go
down
into
the
valley
--
not
quietly
this
time
,
but
as
a
runaway
gun
goes
down
a
steep
bank
--
in
one
rush
.
The
huge
limbs
moved
as
steadily
as
pistons
,
eight
feet
to
each
stride
,
and
the
wrinkled
skin
of
the
elbow
points
rustled
.
The
undergrowth
on
either
side
of
him
ripped
with
a
noise
like
torn
canvas
,
and
the
saplings
that
he
heaved
away
right
and
left
with
his
shoulders
sprang
back
again
and
banged
him
on
the
flank
,
and
great
trails
of
creepers
,
all
matted
together
,
hung
from
his
tusks
as
he
threw
his
head
from
side
to
side
and
plowed
out
his
pathway
.
Then
Little
Toomai
laid
himself
down
close
to
the
great
neck
lest
a
swinging
bough
should
sweep
him
to
the
ground
,
and
he
wished
that
he
were
back
in
the
lines
again
.
The
grass
began
to
get
squashy
,
and
Kala
Nag
's
feet
sucked
and
squelched
as
he
put
them
down
,
and
the
night
mist
at
the
bottom
of
the
valley
chilled
Little
Toomai
.
There
was
a
splash
and
a
trample
,
and
the
rush
of
running
water
,
and
Kala
Nag
strode
through
the
bed
of
a
river
,
feeling
his
way
at
each
step
.
Above
the
noise
of
the
water
,
as
it
swirled
round
the
elephant
's
legs
,
Little
Toomai
could
hear
more
splashing
and
some
trumpeting
both
upstream
and
down
--
great
grunts
and
angry
snortings
,
and
all
the
mist
about
him
seemed
to
be
full
of
rolling
,
wavy
shadows
.
"
Ai
!
"
he
said
,
half
aloud
,
his
teeth
chattering
.
"
The
elephant-folk
are
out
tonight
.
It
is
the
dance
,
then
!
"
Kala
Nag
swashed
out
of
the
water
,
blew
his
trunk
clear
,
and
began
another
climb
.
But
this
time
he
was
not
alone
,
and
he
had
not
to
make
his
path
.
That
was
made
already
,
six
feet
wide
,
in
front
of
him
,
where
the
bent
jungle-grass
was
trying
to
recover
itself
and
stand
up
.
Many
elephants
must
have
gone
that
way
only
a
few
minutes
before
.
Little
Toomai
looked
back
,
and
behind
him
a
great
wild
tusker
with
his
little
pig
's
eyes
glowing
like
hot
coals
was
just
lifting
himself
out
of
the
misty
river
.
Then
the
trees
closed
up
again
,
and
they
went
on
and
up
,
with
trumpetings
and
crashings
,
and
the
sound
of
breaking
branches
on
every
side
of
them
.
At
last
Kala
Nag
stood
still
between
two
tree-trunks
at
the
very
top
of
the
hill
.
They
were
part
of
a
circle
of
trees
that
grew
round
an
irregular
space
of
some
three
or
four
acres
,
and
in
all
that
space
,
as
Little
Toomai
could
see
,
the
ground
had
been
trampled
down
as
hard
as
a
brick
floor
.
Some
trees
grew
in
the
center
of
the
clearing
,
but
their
bark
was
rubbed
away
,
and
the
white
wood
beneath
showed
all
shiny
and
polished
in
the
patches
of
moonlight
.
There
were
creepers
hanging
from
the
upper
branches
,
and
the
bells
of
the
flowers
of
the
creepers
,
great
waxy
white
things
like
convolvuluses
,
hung
down
fast
asleep
.
But
within
the
limits
of
the
clearing
there
was
not
a
single
blade
of
green
--
nothing
but
the
trampled
earth
.
The
moonlight
showed
it
all
iron
gray
,
except
where
some
elephants
stood
upon
it
,
and
their
shadows
were
inky
black
.
