he was glad. A feeling of power, of delight, came to him. He gave a little, excited laugh.
"I—I like it!"
" 'Course you do," said the keeper. "Any sensible chap would. An' you just bet Ali knows you like it. If you trust a buil he'11 always be your friend, but he knows in a flash if you're scared of him, no matter how deep down you hide it. They got more sense than 'uman beings, they have."
John Russell, talking to Big Dan Peterson near the blue caravan, heard a shrill voice from its open window. A head covered with long dark curls was framed in it, the rosy face muffled in a big towel. Nita had seen something that interrupted her in the midst of dressing.
"Daddy! Daddy! There's a boy riding Ali!"
The men's eyes followed the tiny pointing finger. Over the crest of the hill surged slowly three elephants: high on the leader John Russell saw his son, eager, laughing, his face scarlet with excitement. He took a quick step forward.
"By Jove! Is he all right?"
"Right as rain, with George there: or without him, either, if he's made friends with the elephants. And I guess George wouldn't have put him up if he hadn't. Your boy's got pluck, right enough. Jolly kid—wasn't he anxious for us to camp here!"
"It's a great day for him," Russell said. "Poor youngster, he doesn't get much fun. I'm glad you struck us, if only for Hugh."