him to follow them into the _keddah_; he was not to be tempted, and
tore and strained at his ropes to such a degree that the _mahout_
feared he would make wounds that could never be healed; so he took
away the _koomkies_ and waited yet another night.

The third night the _koomkies_ were brought out again, this time with
Kinka at their head. But the sight of Kinka nearly drove Rataplan mad;
he strained and tore at the ropes, trumpeting and roaring, until even
the _koomkies_ were frightened. Could he only have got at Kinka, he
would have torn her limb from limb. But although he stretched to his
utmost, and his hind legs went out behind him in the struggle, he
could not get near her.

The _mahout_ was getting troubled, for Rataplan's ankles were now in
such a state as to make him almost valueless, and he knew, even did
the elephant give in now, it would be months before they were healed,
if indeed they ever healed at all.

Yet another long, weary day and night did poor Rataplan lay there,
getting weaker and weaker and suffering untold agonies caused by those
cruel ropes.

He had by this time torn his ankles so fearfully that they were all
ulcerated, and stiff from lying on the ground. To add to his misery,
he had caught violent inflammation in his eyes.

The _mahout_ realized that unless he got him into the _keddah_ soon he
would be of no use at all, and once more did his best with _koomkies_
and dainty bits of food to tempt him to follow into the _keddah_.