then he backed to the opposite side of the clearing. He trumpeted a shrill note of defiance, and charged. Jehangir met him half-way. The ground shook as they met head-on in the centre. They backed a little, and charged again.
This time his opponent swerved a little as they met, and one of his tusks gashed Jehangir’s side. Jehangir, whose tusks were cut short, saw that he was at a disadvantage, so he closed. The other elephant sought to catch Jehangir’s trunk with his own, but Jehangir had a trick worth two of that, and as they struggled, forehead to forehead, he curled his trunk about the other’s left forefoot, suddenly jerking with all his strength. His opponent was taken by surprise, and fell heavily on to his side, but before Jehangir had time to kneel on him, the other got to his feet and broke away. For a few moments they watched each other across the clearing. Then Jehangir trumpeted and charged. The wild elephant dodged and thrust at Jehangir’s shoulder with his tusk: his thick hide was ripped open, but the wound did not go deep, and in another moment they were in the middle of the circle again, with their trunks intercoiled, pushing with all their strength.
Jehangir felt himself being forced back, and he thrust forward with even greater force: he felt his skull almost cracking before the other yielded a little. He pressed his advantage, and shoved the wild elephant back and back. Suddenly the wild elephant tried to break free, so as to use his tusks; but as he stepped back to do so, Jehangir launched his whole weight on him, and he slid back several feet; then Jehangir, with all his strength twisted his opponent’s trunk. The animal collapsed on to his hindquarters, and then, as Jehangir thrust again, crashed over on to his side. He kicked wildly, but before he could rise, Jehangir was upon him, first knocking the breath out of his body by butting him in the stomach, and then kneeling on him.
The wild elephant squealed like a huge pig, and Jehangir backed away. The tusker gasped twice, got up, and staggered away to the other edge of the clearing. There he turned and looked at Jehangir, who trumpeted again, and advanced a few steps. The wild elephant turned, and went crashing away through the forest, followed by all his herd, with the exception of the younger cow-elephants, who stayed to caress Jehangir with their trunks.
Before dawn Jehangir was back in the camp, looking very innocent; but his wounds betrayed him, and Hussein beat his toe-nails, scolding him all the time.
For the rest of the journey two of the she-elephants followed them at a distance, but Jehangir took no notice of them at all.
The road pushed on and on: the men blasted through solid rock, and filled in swamps; they threw bridges across three streams, and at last they came to the village where the new road joined another, and their work was done.
All the people were scattered to different parts of India: Gill was promoted to a better post in the hills — the result of his action against the dacoits. He wanted to take Hussein with him as his syce, and he offered good wages. For three days Hussein thought it over; Mustapha would not advise him, saying that it was his own life. In the end he felt that he could not leave Jehangir, so Gill went away without him.
The elephants were sent to Haiderabad, where they worked on a great new embankment. By this time Hussein was a mahout in the Government service, and he rode a young bull elephant called Amurath. Amurath was an unintelligent beast as elephants go, but he had a good-natured, phlegmatic way about him, and Hussein got along very well with him.
Jehangir was exceedingly jealous of Amurath, and he made the smaller elephant’s life quite a misery whenever they were alone together.
When they had been some time in Haiderabad, Mustapha stiffened quite suddenly. They gave him a pension, and he retired.
Hussein had Jehangir after that, and Amurath was left in peace.
Mustapha spent his days in pottering about the elephant lines, and sitting in the sun before his house. He was happy in a mild way, but he was utterly lost without his work. He aged very quickly, and after some months his memory began to fail him: he called Hussein Ahmed, and sometimes he sat for hours in the sun with a book upside down in his hand.
Zeinab, who was always active, was disturbed. She had never thought of herself as an old woman, for the business of feeding and caring for five men had always kept her very much alive. She said, with a puzzled smile, that it was very like having a baby in the house again.
One night Mustapha died in his sleep. All the mahouts rent their clothes, and they gave him a great burial, with the elephants all trumpeting the Viceroy’s salute. The women came to comfort Zeinab, but she did not seem to need any comforting. She sat quite still: she seemed dazed, and she did not answer when they praised the dead Mustapha, neither did she loose her hair and wail in the dust: she did not even seem very unhappy, but that night she swallowed enough opium to ensure that her passing should be swift and clean. They buried her beside Mustapha the next day.
Mustapha’s sons and Hussein mourned long and sincerely, with dust and ashes on their heads in the old eastern way.
When their first grief had abated they came together to decide what they should do.
Mustapha had always said that Hussein was to be regarded as one of his own sons, so Amir Khan, who, being the eldest, divided the inheritance, placed the money (in a jar buried under the floor) in four equal heaps, one for himself, one for Yussuf, one for Abd’allah and one for Hussein. It was difficult to divide the rest of the things, but after some time they settled it fairly among themselves. Hussein got all the books. For the full period of mourning they lived on together in Haiderabad, but after Ramadan the elephants which Yussuf and Abd’allah rode (they were all mahouts now) were ordered away to another part of the country. They were very unhappy at the parting, but they had to go. An uncle and three cousins were among the other mahouts who went with them, so they were not without friends. Amir Khan and Hussein moved to a smaller hut, for the older one was melancholy with no one in it. After a little while they began to notice that there was no sort of restraint upon them, and that they could do pretty well what they pleased. Although this was pleasant, there was something very sad in having nobody to tell them not to do things.
Amir Khan, having little sense, took up with a fast set of young bloods, and he borrowed money from a bunnia: soon he found that he could not pay it back, and he took to borrowing money from Hussein to pay the interest. Hussein put up with it for some time; indeed he did not make much of a fuss even when Amir Khan took his money without the formality of asking for it.
Sometimes he made tentative suggestions to Amir Khan that he was hard up too, but his cousin would say quite truly that Hussein did nothing in his spare time but moon about with Jehangir or read, so that he wanted no money to spend, and as money was only a danger when it was hoarded, it was much better that one who could enjoy it should spend it.
‘Besides,’ he said, ‘some day when you really need it I shall undoubtedly repay you — in fact, it is much the same as if you were to save it now, for I am a man of my word.’ Then he twirled his growing moustache and borrowed three rupees from Hussein.
For more than a year they lived together in the Haiderabad elephant lines, but one day when neither Hussein nor Amir Khan had any money to pay the interest that was due, the moneylender hauled Amir Khan before the court to make him repay. In the court he became excited and tried to state his case in his own way. Two lawyers tried to restrain him, and he banged their heads together: then a policeman seized him, but he thumped him on the floor of the dock and kicked him in the stomach, for he was a stalwart young man.
In the tumult he escaped, and came running to his hut, where he hid under Hussein’s bed, meaning to fly into the country during the night. But the police found him and he was sent to prison, after putting up a tremendous fight, in which all the mahouts joined so that there was almost a riot.
Hussein wrote to Yussuf and Abd’allah; they took leave and came back to Haiderabad. On the appointed day they all went to see Amir Khan in the jail-khana: he was cheerful because he had acquired great izzat by his hardy resistance, but he did not know what to do when he should come out, as the PWD would not have him any more.
They talked for some time, and then Abd’allah and Yussuf had to go back, for they only had two days’ leave. After a few weeks had passed they wrote to Hussein saying that