"I'm afraid you are not fit to walk far," said Dermot. "I must take you
back."

As he spoke he slipped to the ground. From a pocket in the pad he extracted
a flask of brandy, with which he filled a small silver cup.

"Drink this," he said, holding it to her lips. "It will do you good."

Noreen obeyed and drank a little of the spirit. Then, before she could
protest, she was lifted in Dermot's arms and placed on the pad on Badshah's
back. This cool disposal of her took her breath away, but to her surprise
she felt that she rather liked it. There was something attractive in her
new acquaintance's unconsciously authoritative manner.

Replacing the flask he said:

"Are you used to riding elephants?"

She shook her head.

"Then hold on to this rope across the pad, otherwise you may slip off when
Badshah rises to his feet. You had better keep your hand on it as we go
along, though there isn't much danger of your falling."

As he got astride the elephant's neck he continued: "Now, be ready. Hold on
tightly. Uth, Badshah!"

Despite his warning Noreen nearly slipped off the pad at the sudden and
jerky upheaval when the elephant rose.