After supper the white man went back to the mad elephant and his beloved master, and found Ali still crooning softly to him.
To the Sahib it seemed that the voice of the boy was more like the sound of the winds and the waters than a human voice, and it was so soothing and restful that it made the Sahib sleepy to listen to it.
Until eleven that night Ali stayed by the side of Joie, and all the time he kept up his incessant low talking and crooning to the elephant, just as though he had been a sick baby.
Finally at eleven o'clock he went in beside Joie, and put his hand confidently upon his friend's trunk, and Joie squeaked with delight.
The tip of his trunk was moist, and he seemed perfectly normal.
