Frank kissed her, solemnly now, for the last time.  Then they turned to face the enemy.  The swordsmen were massing for a charge.  Crouching low they held their shields before them and waved their long-bladed dahs above their heads, uttering fierce yells.

Suddenly the Amban and other mounted men who had been sheltering out of sight dashed into view and rode madly into the rear ranks, knocking down and trampling on anyone in their way.  The men on foot looked behind and broke into a run, coming on in a disordered mob.  But it was not a charge—­it was more like a panic.  For with wild cries of frantic terror they fled past the defenders who, fearing a trick, fired their last cartridges into them, dropping several, some of whom tried to rise and drag themselves on in dread of something terrible behind.

Then into sight came a vast herd of wild elephants, filling the gorge from cliff to cliff and moving at a slow trot.  A huge bull led them, lines of other tuskers behind him, crowds of females and calves bringing up the rear.  The onset of the mass of great monsters was terrifying.  It was appalling, irresistible.

Muriel cried out: 

“It’s Badshah!  Frank, it’s Badshah!  Look at the leader!  Don’t you see?”

Tashi stared at the oncoming herd.  Then he quietly unfixed his pistol and put it away in the holster.

“We are saved, sahib,” he said with the calm fatalism of the East.  “The God of the Elephants has sent them.”

And he limped out from behind the rocks.  The two Europeans followed him.  Their foes had disappeared, all but the dead and wounded.

Badshah—­for it was he—­swerved out of his course and came to them, while the herd went on, opening out to pass him as he sank to his knees before the humans.  Tashi, despite his wound, climbed on to his neck, while Wargrave mounted behind him and Muriel took her seat on the broad back, clinging to her lover.  Then the tusker rose and moved swiftly after the herd.

As he rounded the bend a strange sight met the eyes of those he carried.  Their enemies were huddled together in terror near the brink of the tunnel from which the surging water rushed out.  Some endeavoured to pluck up courage to throw themselves into the river, while the majority had turned to face the elephants.  But they were paralysed with fright.  A few tried to discharge their fire-arms or loosed their arrows with trembling hands.  As the elephants, quickening their pace, rushed on in an irresistible mass some of the men, crazed with fright, ran to meet them.  Others flung themselves to the ground where they were.

But over both the great monsters passed, treading them to pulp under the ponderous feet.  The animals of the mounted men, as terrified as their riders, swung about and sprang headlong into the river.  Many of the men on foot did the same.  The heads of animals and men appeared and disappeared, bobbing up and down, then their bodies were rolled over and over, tossed up on the waves and sucked under.  One by one they disappeared.