He had been wakened by the sound of the mother's pain. "_Hai!_" he had
exclaimed to his wife. "Who has ever heard a cow bawl so loud in labour?
The little one that to-morrow you will see beneath her belly must weigh
more than you!"

This was rather a compliment to his plump wife. She was not offended at
all. Burman women love to be well-rounded. But the mahout was not
weighing the effect of his words. He was busy lighting his firebrand,
and his features seemed sharp and intent when the beams came out. Rather
he was already weighing the profits of little Muztagh. He was an
elephant-catcher by trade, in the employ of the great white Dugan Sahib,
and the cow that was at this moment bringing a son into the world was
his own property. If the baby should be of the Kumiria--

The mahout knew elephants from head to tail, and he was very well
acquainted with the three grades that compose the breed. The least
valuable of all are the Mierga--a light, small-headed, thin-skinned,
weak-trunked and unintelligent variety that are often found in the best
elephant herds. They are often born of the most noble parents, and they
are as big a problem to elephant men as razor-backs to hog-breeders.
Then there is a second variety, the Dwasala, that compose the great bulk
of the herd--a good, substantial, strong, intelligent grade of elephant.
But the Kumiria is the best of all; and when one is born in a captive
herd it is a time for rejoicing. He is the perfect elephant--heavy,
symmetrical, trustworthy and fearless--fitted for the pageantry of
kings.

He hurried out to the lines, for now he knew that the baby was born. The
mother's cries had ceased. The jungle, dark and savage beyond ever the