it deserted. He had not thought that his friend the Sahib would break camp so early. But he was not dismayed. The way that they had gone was very apparent to his jungletrained eyes. This Malay boy was as good a tracker as there was in the whole Malay Peninsula, and it was as easy for him to follow a trail like that of the caravan as it would have been for a hound, so he took the trail and scuffed along after the Sahib's wild-animal procession. He did not know just what he would do when he caught up with them, but he must find the Sahib. The white man must listen to him, for the loss of Baby Elephant was not the only thing that troubled the small brown boy.
While he had been sleeping the evening before, he had heard his uncle. Prince Bahi, and another Malay talking over a
