moaned and died and his blood gushed out over both of us. Then Bes sat
up and laughed, and I too laughed, since neither of us had more than
scratches and we had done what men could scarcely do.

"Do you remember, Master," said Bes when he had finished laughing, as
he wiped his brow with some damp moss, "how, once far away up the Nile
you charged a mad elephant with a spear and saved me who had fallen,
from being trampled to death?"

I, Shabaka, answered that I did. (And I, Allan Quatermain, observing
all these things in my psychic trance in the museum of Ragnall Castle,
reflected that I also remembered how a certain Hans had saved me from
a certain mad elephant, to wit, Jana, not so long before, which just
shows how things come round.)

"Yes," went on Bes, "you saved me from that elephant, though it seemed
death to you. And, Master, I will tell you something now. That very
morning I had tried to poison you, only you would not wait to eat
because the elephants were near."

"Did you?" I asked idly. "Why?"

"Because two years before you captured me in battle with some of my
people, and as I was misshapen, or for pity's sake, spared my life and
made me your slave. Well, I who had been a chief, a very great chief,
Master, did not wish to remain a slave and did wish to avenge my
people's blood. Therefore I tried to poison you, and that very day you
saved my life, offering for it your own."

"I think it was because I wanted the tusks of the elephant, Bes."