Monday came. The huge bulk of the elephant, with its howdah outside, darkened the veranda; servants were busy lading mules; there were boxes of provisions, the small tent, trunks, knapsacks, cooking vessels, and many other et c?tera to be packed, the weight duly apportioned, and the ropes securely fastened. To start on a camping expedition in Siam is a very different thing indeed from going on a railway journey in England. Foresight is required, readiness of resource, and a large amount of patience; no necessary article must be forgotten, no possible contingency overlooked. Io, who had completed her packing arrangements, sat in the drawing-room writing her letters for the English mail, to have them sent off before she should start. Every now and then she laid down her pen, that she might run to the veranda to see how the packing was progressing. The novelty and bustle of the scene were to the youthful Englishwoman somewhat amusing.
Io was just finishing her despatch when Oscar entered the room, with his little packet of letters in his hand.
“Is your letter to your mother ready?” said he. “We had better send off our budget to the post before we start.”
Io folded up her large sheet in the then approved style (envelopes are a modern invention; paste wafers, now a thing of the past, were in common use then, when the more formal wax seal was not required). As lucifer matches were unknown, sealing was a more troublesome operation in those days than in the reign of our gracious Queen.
“Is all ready for our start?” asked Io, as she pressed the seal down on the wafer. “Is the luggage at last all packed on the mules, and Lightfoot saddled and bridled? I think that I shall set out on my pony.”
“I am sorry to say that we cannot take Lightfoot at all,” replied Oscar.
“Why? Nothing the matter, I hope?”
“Master Thud had his own reasons for staying away from church yesterday,” answered Coldstream in a tone of displeasure. “The boy chose to ride Lightfoot, and let him down. Thud has no idea of riding.”
“Oh, I hope that my poor pony is not much hurt!” cried Io.
“Not permanently injured, I think,” replied Oscar; “but he is lame, and must not be mounted till our return. I am annoyed at your disappointment, and have been rebuking Thud pretty sharply; but he is so encased in self-complacency that it is not easy to touch him. He told me that the fall was entirely the fault of the pony.”
“I fear that poor Thud is a great trial to you, dear Oscar,” observed Io.
“He would have been a greater trial to those at home. I do not regret that we brought him. I own that if we had any one with whom to leave him, Thud should not, after this last prank, accompany us to Tavoy. But I cannot burden poor Lawrence, and Pogson is out of the question—so are the Cottles.”
“Dr. Pinny?” suggested Io.
Oscar Coldstream shook his head. “I would not say a word against your old friend,” he observed; “but you yourself would hardly think the good doctor a desirable guardian for your young b............