FORESTS OF GORAKHPUR AND NEPAL TERAI 249 



running motion was not agreeable. One felt quite help- 

 less. In the direction of camp was a grove of half-grown 

 mango-trees ; through this we crashed. Branches swished 

 by our heads, and we strove to ward off the lighter ones, 

 while heavier boughs were cracked off against the teak 

 frames of the howdahs. Luckily, neither girths nor wood- 

 work, well laced together with canework, gave way, and 

 we arrived in camp, having come a mile in about five 

 and a half minutes. The difficulty then was to stop the 

 elephants or get them to lie down, which they entirely 

 refused to do. However, by bringing up some other steady 

 elephants, which surrounded them, the ladies of the party 

 succeeded in getting safely on to the others' pads, and 

 so were dismounted none the worse for the adventure, 

 which might have been a serious one. We stuck to our 

 own shikari elephants after that. Old Luckmee, a very 

 gentle female, was as steady as a rock. Her old mahout, 

 who put her age at seventy years, was never done singing 

 her praises. ' If she was entirely eaten up by a lion, 

 then,' he declared, ' she would not move. She would let 

 me drive her and obey the words dutt (stop), dutt dutt 

 (lie down), mail (get up), mail mail (go on).' A kick of 

 the toe on the side of the head to right or left she an- 

 swered as quickly as ever a well-trained charger to the 

 motion of the bridle. 



The dear old mahout was as faithful as the elephant, 

 and never defrauded his charge of a chapati more than 

 the legal number, one in twelve, which used to be brought 

 every evening to the tent door and piled in a heap, about 

 10 sers (20 pounds) of flour made into round, flat cakes. 

 There was also an allowance of ghee brought on a large 

 leaf. Each of the chapatis received a smear of the ghee, 

 and old Luckmee appeared to count the number — eleven — 

 she was entitled to. If by any chance one fell short, she 



