In reality, Rajah, freed of his unwelcome mahout, had legged it down
the road without so much as trumpeting his farewell, and the soldiers
had not been able to stop him.
How she had managed to get down would always remain a mystery to her.
Food and water, food and water; in her present state she must have both
or die. Let them send her back to Allaha; she was beaten; she was
without the will to resist further. All she wanted was food and water
and sleep, sleep. After that they might do what they pleased with her.
For the first time since the extraordinary flight from Allaha Kathlyn
recollected the "elephant talk" which Ahmed had taught her. She rose
wearily and walked toward Rajah, who cocked his ears at the sound of
her approach. She talked to him for a space in monotone. She held out
her hands; the dry raspy trunk curled out toward them. Rajah was
evidently willing to meet her half-way. She ordered him to kneel.
Without even pausing to think it over Rajah bent his calloused knees,
and gratefully Kathlyn crawled back into the howdah. Food and water:
these appeared at hand as if by magic. So she ate and drank. If she
could hold Rajah to a walk the howdah would last at least till she came
to some village.
Later, in the moonshine, she espied the ruined portico of a temple.