He had stupidly stepped upon a cobra! And the cobra, before it
was squashed to pulp, had stung him between the big and little toe."
"On purpose?" Judy asked.
"In an Indian jungle everything's done on purpose. My elephant raced
away, trumpeting in agony, at twenty miles an hour. The driver lost
his balance and fell off; the other man, scrambling along to take his
place and steer the monster, fell off after him, taking both my guns
with him as he went; and I myself, crouching in the swaying howdah,
and holding on for grim death, continued to tear through the jungle on
top of my terrified and angry elephant. Then, suddenly, the branch of
a tree caught the howdah in the middle and swept it clear. The
elephant rushed on. The howdah, with myself inside it, swung in mid-
air like a caught balloon. But I saw it could not hold on long. There
was just time to scramble out of it into safety upon the branch when
there came a sound of ripping, and the thing fell smash upon the
ground some twenty feet below, leaving me alone in an Indian jungle--
up a tree."
And he paused a moment to produce the right effect and reap the
inevitable glory of applause.
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