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I was staying the night, as always, in the hsin-ouq's tai. We ate a sparse
meal and afterwards I stepped outside to smoke a cheroot. Usually
a camp is full and bustling at that time of day. But now I saw, to my
astonishment, that there was no one about; I could hear nothing
but frogs and owls and the feathery flapping of great jungle moths.
Absent also was that most familiar and reassuring of a camp's sounds,
the tinkling of elephants' bells. Evidently, no sooner had the soil
been tamped down on the dead man's grave than the dther 00-sis had
begun to flee the camp, taking their elephants with them.
The only elephant that was still in the camp's vicinity was Shwe Doke,
the dead man's mount. The hsin-ouq had taken charge of his nephew's
riderless elephant after the accident. She was restless, he said, and
nervous, frequently flapping her ears and clawing the air with the tip
of her trunk. This was neither uncommon nor unexpected, for the
elephant is, above all, a creature of habit and routine. So pronounced
an upheaval as the absence of a long-familiar handler can put even
the gentlest of elephants out of temper, often dangerously so.
(This being the case, the hsin-ouq had decided not to allow Shwe Doke
to forage through the night, as was the ruleſ Instead he had led her
to a clearing, some half-mile's distance from the camp and supplied
her with a great pile of succulent treetop branches. Then he had
tethered her securely between two immense and immovable trees.
To be doubly sure of keeping her bound he had used, not the usual
lightweight fetters with which elephants are shackled at night, but
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OXFORD
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what is this story
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it didn't understand
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please explain it ......................
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