FIVE HUN 7 DRED THOUSAND ACRES 173 



holes far down in the mud. Then, after long and 

 circuitous marching, we would find ourselves tra- 

 versing spots where we had been an hour before. 



The elephant apparently moves about without 

 much definition of purpose, at least when he is 

 idling away his time, and the trail we were follow- 

 ing led in all directions like a mystic maze. At this 

 time I was hopelessly lost, and if left alone could 

 probably never have found my way out again. So 

 we quickened our steps lest the guides should get 

 too far ahead of us. In those cool depths of the 

 forest, into which only occasional shafts of sun- 

 light filtered, the air was cold and damp, so much so 

 that even the old Wanderobo got cold. It made me 

 cold to look at his thin, old bare legs, but then I 

 suppose his legs were as much accustomed to expo- 

 sure as my hands were, and it's all a matter of get- 

 ting used to it. 



Our porters, especially those that were most 

 heavily loaded, were falling behind and there was 

 grave danger of losing them. In fact, a little later 

 we did lose them. The trail became fresher and, 

 to my dismay, led downward again and into that 

 hopeless mass of underbrush which at this point ex- 

 tended some distance into the lower levels of the 

 forest. We could not see in any direction more 

 than twenty-five feet except above. If our lives 

 had depended on it we could not have penetrated 

 the dense matted barriers of vegetation on each side 

 of the narrow trail. The bare thought of meeting 

 an elephant in such a place sent a cold chill down the 



