thinking man and mere instinctive beast, and eventually Dick threw him
with a trick of the reins about his legs, and knelt on his head to keep
him down. By the grace of the powers of unexpectedness neither shafts
nor harness broke.

Outside in the darkness Tom Tripe peered through brandied eyes at
a great shadow that hunted to and fro a hundred yards away, chasing
something that was quite invisible, and making enough noise about it
to awake the dead.

"Trotters!" he yelled. "Trotters!"

A moment later a smaller shadow came into view at top speed, panting,
chased hotly by the bigger one.

"Trotters! Get back where you came from! Back, d'ye hear me! Back!"

Within ten yards of his master the dog stopped to do his thinking, and
the elephant screamed with a sort of hunter's ecstasy as he closed
on him with a rush. But thought is swift, and obedience good judgment.
The dog doubled of a sudden between Akbar's legs and the elephant
slid on his rump in the futile effort to turn after him--then crashed into
the wall opposite Tripe's dismantled shed--cannoned off it with a grunt
of sheer disgust--and set off up-street, once more in hot pursuit.

"That brute got my good rum, damn him!" said Tom, opening
the stable door. "Hello! Horse down? Any harm done? Right-oh!
We'll soon have him up again. Better hurry now--Trotters came for us."