Badshah at the word sank slowly down until he rested on his breast and
belly with fore and hind legs stuck out stiffly along the ground. Dermot
slipped off his neck and stretched his cramped limbs; for sitting long
upright on an elephant without any support to the back is tiring. Then
he reclined under a tree with his loaded rifle beside him--for the
peaceful-seeming forest has its dangers. He made a frugal lunch off a
packet of sandwiches from his haversack.

Eating made him thirsty. He had forgotten to bring his water-bottle with
him; and he knew that there was no stream to be met with in the jungle for
many miles. But he was aware that the forest could supply his wants.
Rising, he drew his _kukri_ and looked around him. Among the tangle of
creepers festooned between the trees he detected the writhing coils of one
with withered, cork-like bark, four-sided and about two inches in diameter.
He walked over to it and, grasping it in his left hand, cut it through with
a blow of his heavy knife. Its interior consisted of a white, moist pulp.
With another blow he severed a piece a couple of feet long. Taking a metal
cup from his haversack he cut the length of creeper into small pieces and
held all their ends together over the little vessel. From them water began
to drip, the drops came faster and finally little streams from the pulpy
interior filled the cup to the brim with a cool, clear, and palatable
liquid. The _liana_ was the wonderful _pani-bêl_, or water-creeper.

Dermot drank until his thirst was quenched, then sat down with his back
against a tree and lit his pipe. He smoked contentedly and watched Badshah
grazing. The elephant plucked the long grass with a scythe-like sweep of
his trunk, tore down succulent creepers and broke off small branches from
the trees, chewing the wood and leaves with equal enjoyment. From time to
time he looked towards his master, but, receiving no signal to prepare to
move on, continued his meal.