And, as Badshah moved on into the centre of the vast herd and
stopped, again the murmured welcome rumbled from the great throats.
Dermot slung his rifle on his back. It would not be needed now. He resigned
himself to anything that might happen and was filled with an immense
curiosity. Was there really some truth in the stories about Badshah, some
foundation for the natives' belief in his mysterious powers? This reception
of him by the immense gathering of his kind was beyond credence Dermot knew
that wild elephants do not welcome a strange male into a herd. He has to
fight, and fight hard, for admission, which he can only gain by defeating
the bull that is its leader and tyrant. But that several herds should come
together--for that there were several was evident, since the greatest
strength of a herd rarely exceeds a hundred individuals--to meet an escaped
domesticated elephant, and apparently by appointment, was too fantastic to
be credited by any one acquainted with the habits of these animals. Yet
here it was happening before his eyes. The soldier gave up attempting to
understand it and simply accepted the fact.
He looked around him. There were elephants of every type, of all ages. Some
were very old, as he could tell from their lean, fleshless skulls, their
sunken temples and hollow eyes, emaciated bodies and straight, thin legs.
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