Adventure, July 1, 1928 — page 61: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE WHITE ELEPHANT 55 The trumpeting was closer. Panya was among the first to seek shelter. Sommerfield caught a thick vine that hung from the branches of a great teak tree and made his way upwards. Boon was right behind him. Halfway up, Sommerfield stopped to laugh. The situation was in a way ridiculous. He had had many experiences with elephants, but he had never before been forced to climb to safety twice in the same day. After all, it was a pleasant interlude in the dull, monotonous routine of jungle life. HEY were well concealed in the dense foliage when the elephant appeared. “Paa Luang!” gasped Boon. “It is the chow’s elephant. If he does not follow the people he will kill the white elephant. He has attacked every elephant he has found since he went on must. We have no merit. We have no merit.” “You are right,” said Sommerfield to himself. ‘We have no merit.” He had not allowed himself to count too much on the change in the company’s for- tunes that would follow the advent of the fetish, but he had felt a peculiar exulta- tion when he had Satisfied himself that the calf was actually an albino. Why should hope be dangled momentarily be- fore his eyes and then snatched away? From his high perch Sommerfield saw Paa Luang crashing through a clump of bamboos. He was one of the largest ele- phants Sommerfield had ever seen. He was a stately beast that would make a wonderful showing in a procession; but his tusks which were four feet long, curved inward, so that they almost touched at the tips. They would be in the way of an elephant working with teak logs, but for show they were splendid. Long black streaks of oil oozed from the must holes above the elephant’s eyes. The elephant trumpeted again. An answering trumpet was heard. Boon clutched Sommerfield’s arm. That trum- pet was not from Bua Kam either. It was too far away. The tusker stopped in his tracks, cocked his ears, and felt the air with his trunk. He trumpeted. It was answered. He bellowed and kicked up the ground with his front foot. His challenge was again answered, and Som- merfield could heara crashing of trees in the direction of the newcomer. Paa Luang with another growl, charged through the jungle in the direction of the white elephant. “Boon, your knife,” whispered Som- merfield. “Throw it. Stop him.” As the tusker passed under the tree, the rider drew his heavy jungle knife from its sheath and hurled it at the animal’s head. The aim was good. About six inches of Paa Luang’s scalp was opened to the bone. Paa Luang ducked his head, hunched his shoulders, and backed. As he started forward again, Boon hurled a dead limb which checked him a second time. “Back, worm!” shouted Boon, but & trumpet from the other side of Bua Kam held the elephant’s attention.. He trum- peted and charged. The head and shoulders of Father Eclipse of the Moon broke through the jungle around the clearing in which the young calf lay. He passed the mother elephant without seeming to notice her and rushed on to the fight. With heads up, trunks curled tightly between their tusks, ears fanned straight out from their heads and tails held high and stiff, the two tuskers rushed at each other like two locomotives under full steam. Their heads dropped low and came together with a reverberating bang. It seemed that one of them would cer- tainly be stunned by the impact, but both went at the fight as if nothing has hap- pened. Each animal strained and pushed as he grunted and roared. Round and round they went in a circle. Paa Luang’s tusks were longer, and although he could not get them to the sides of Father Eclipse of the Moon, he did rake them back and forth across his chest. Moon’s shorter tusks could not reach Paa Luang so long as they kept head to head. Both elephants strained with tails high and lashing furiously. “Phra Buddha Boon. Chow!” murmured comicloooks.com