into orderly lines in the little field, taking up their places like men on a chess-board. Where there was not sufficiënt space to maneuver a van, the elephants came to the rescue, pushing with their great heads, six inches at a time, never making a mistake, always patiënt and gentle. The caravans were ranged along one fence, lorries and cages along another: the horses were picketed under shady trees; and when all their work was done the three elephants rolled away, in the wake of their keeper, to the creek.
Hugh trotted after them. The creek was too narrow to allow them all the wallowing space they would have loved, but they made the most of what water there was. They waded into it, scooping it up with huge enjoyment: squirting it over themselves and each other, while Hugh and the keeper came in for an occasional shower of drops. The keeper, a friendly man, told Hugh their names, adding that they were worth all the horses in the show. He had no opinion of horses; which Hugh considered a pity. Elephants, he said, had brains and sense: his "bulls" could do anything but talk, and he wasn't sure that they wouldn't break out in speech some day.
"What language would they talk?" asked Hugh, much impressed.
"Oh—Injun, of course. Unless it was oddments they've picked up from me. If African parrots can talk good English I don't see why a buil couldn't."
Hugh liked the elephant-man. He was so sleepy that he yawned all the time, but he would not hurry his