A STRANGE FISHER
el-e-phant bam-boo an-i-mal
re-mind no-tice in-stant
mis-chief pre-tend-ed ma-jor
1. I was once staying with my friend Major Brown in India. He had an elephant that was called Old Soup.
2. That was his pet name. His real name was very long—so long that I should not like to ask you to spell it.
3. Old Soup was very fond of the Major's children, and used often to go out with them alone.
4. One day the Major said to me: "Come along, and we will see what Old Soup is doing."
5. We walked for half a mile along the wooded banks of the river, and then we came upon a little group.
6. Two children sat on the bank, each holding a rod with line, cork, hook, and bait. Beside them stood Old Soup with a very large bamboo rod in his trunk, and this had line, cork, hook, and bait like the children's.
7. Before long he had a bite. The old fellow did not stir: his little eyes were fixed on the line. He waited till it was time to draw in his catch.
8. At the end of his line, as he drew it up, hung a fine tench. When Old Soup saw it, he gave a low cry of joy, as if asking Jim, the boy, to take the fish off, and bait the hook again.
9. But Jim liked to tease. After taking off the fish, he went back to his place on the bank, without putting any bait on the hook.
10. The animal gave little cries to remind Jim, but, seeing that the boy took no notice, he went up to him, and tried to turn his head to the bait-box.
HIS LITTLE EYES WERE FIXED ON THE LINE.
11. Still, Jim would not understand, so Old Soup picked up the box with his trunk, and laid it down at the Major's feet. Then he took up the rod, and handed it to his master.
12. "What do you want, Old Soup?" said the Major. The animal lifted one great foot after the other, and gave its strange cry. Out of mischief, I took the box, and pretended to run away with it.
13. But Old Soup was not going to be teased by a stranger. He dipped his trunk in the river, and in an instant sent a stream of water all over me. The children laughed, but the Major told Old Soup to stop.
14. Then, to make friends with him, I put some bait on the hook. Old Soup hardly stopped to thank me in his odd voice, but went back to his place, and was soon watching his cork as it bobbed again on the river.