"You're a brave boy, CÆsar!" cried Nadine, her face glowing with love and pride. "But do you realize what that would mean? You could hardly make a mile an hour through this deep snow. It is above your knees, and you would soon become exhausted by wading through it. No—no—dear brother—it would be folly to try it, and, moreover, you cannot do it any way."

"Why so?" persisted CÆsar, who was thoroughly in earnest. "I'm sure I can do it. Just remember that Nalla's life is in danger. If nothing is done for him soon he will surely die."

Half-convinced, Nadine looked out upon the white wilderness, as bare, as silent, as trackless as the ocean. North, south, east, and west not a sign of human habitation could be discerned. The three young occupants of the shabby old van might have been the only people in the world. Turning sadly to CÆsar, she said with a sigh that was more like a sob:

"In which direction will you go, CÆsar?"

CÆsar gazed earnestly in every direction, asking of the horizon the question his sister had put to him, but there was no answer forthcoming from the encircling gloom. He had overlooked the fact that the snow had obliterated the roads, and that consequently he would be unable to find his way. In a despondent tone he replied:

"I won't go at all, Nadine. I don't know where Mamezan lies. We'll have to stay here for the night, and make the best of it."

The big canvas was accordingly used to cover poor old Nalla, who lay groaning dolefully, and Steady having been tied close to the van so as to get all the shelter it could afford, the Tambys went to bed supperless.

Not a star shone in the sky, nor friendly light glimmered in the distance. The children were alone—utterly alone, on the great plain of which the snow had made a white lifeless desert.

They threw themselves upon their beds without undressing, and Abel, poor little chap, did not take long to go to sleep, but CÆsar and Nadine could not thus forget for a time their troubles. Again and again did one or other of them get up to go to Nalla, who moaned piteously, and at last, about four o'clock, they became greatly alarmed by the heartrending cries of the animal, who appeared to be in great suffering, and unable to lift his head from where it lay upon the frozen ground.

The two children, filled with the keenest concern, and yet powerless to do anything, remained by the head of their faithful friend, and at break of day were joined by Abel, who had awakened from his sleep.

When Nalla lay down he instinctively turned his head to the quarter in which the sun would rise, as if he would see for the last time, may be, the dawn which had always been a favorite sight with him. And now his eyes, almost closed, watched the first faint gray lights of a chill winter's morning.

Perhaps he then had a vision of the far-away jungle in which he was born, and where he spent his youth. Perhaps this plain, stripped of its winding-sheet of snow, that stretched before his eyes, recalled to his memory those other plains of far greater extent, which he had traversed in his own country. Perhaps he saw, as in a mirage, the dense thickets of luxurious vegetation in which he had taken refuge with his own kind, and the savage grandeur of the mysterious regions wherein his early years had been spent.

May be Nalla in this supreme hour reviewed the different stages of his life, from the day when, while still a mere calf, he was captured by tamed elephants trained to make prisoners of wild ones, until when in his fiftieth year he became the protector and breadwinner of the Tamby family.

Lydia had been his particular pet. He loved her with the whole strength of his big heart, and her sudden disappearance had been a rude shock to his already failing health. The tender-hearted creature mourned for his darling and could not be comforted.

By eight o'clock it was broad daylight. But such a day! The sky hung low and threatening. The heavy clouds were of a sullen gray color. The snow seemed ready to resume falling in greater quantity. Nadine, CÆsar, and Abel did not leave the side of their big friend. Nadine tenderly patted the limp trunk, while she said, soothingly:

"Don't lose heart, Nalla! It is day again, and CÆsar will go to the town to get assistance for you. We will save you, Nalla. You often saved us in critical times, and we are not going to let you die. You are our best friend. You are not only our chief resource in the gaining of our daily bread, but you are, above all, our old and tried comrade, truest and most devoted friend. You are, moreover, our best hope for the recovery of Lydia—our dear little Lydia, my good Nalla, the little Lydia of whom you are so fond. You will live, won't you, Nalla, to love us, and be loved by us in return?"

Nalla remained motionless through all Nadine's tender appeals, yet he seemed to understand every word she uttered. His sorrowful little eyes were turned towards the children to tell them that he understood, and that he was extremely sorry to cause them so much anxiety.

Presently his huge body began to shake with violent tremors. It was plain that severe pangs tortured him, and he presented a pitiable spectacle as he lay there upon the wild waste of snow, to all appearances beyond the reach of assistance.

He could breathe now only with great difficulty, and he made pathetic efforts to raise his head in order to obtain the air he needed. At last the poor creature gathered strength to lift his trunk, and pass it around the three children, who were sitting beside him, thus drawing them one by one nearer to himself. There he held them for some minutes as though seeking to have them realize how much he was suffering, and how deeply he was attached to them. Poor Nalla! he whose cradle bed had been the warm sod of the land of sunshine, now had for sick-bed a snowdrift!

Suddenly CÆsar sprang to his feet.

"Nadine!" he said, "I believe that the cold is making Nalla worse, and that he is likely to die here. Can't we do something to get him warm?"

"Yes—yes," replied Nadine. "We must try and make him warm. But how shall we do it?"

"Nadine, it must be done at any cost," returned CÆsar. "First of all let us clear away all the snow from about him."

So once more the three children set courageously to work at sweeping the snow away. When this had been accomplished CÆsar said briskly:

"Now, then, let us make a fire."

"What shall we make it with?" asked Nadine, looking around as if in hopes of seeing a pile of wood somewhere.

"With anything—everything," responded CÆsar in a determined tone. "With our van if there is nothing else that will do."

At the suggestion of this extreme measure Nadine paled, and for a moment showed hesitation. But it was only for a moment.

"Yes, CÆsar," she cried, "we'll do it. We'll make firewood of the van before we'll let Nalla die!"

"But we won't begin on the van until we have used up everything else," returned CÆsar.

Without delay they went to work upon their fire. The trestles, the planks, and everything else that composed their "theater," their chairs and tables and other articles of furniture, they were all sacrificed without demur, and the bonfire presently assumed considerable proportions, crackling and roaring cheerfully.

In its flames Nadine melted snow in a metal basin, and made Nalla drink the warm water, replenishing the basin again and again until he had absorbed several gallons of it.

After a little, to their infinite joy the big fellow began to show signs of improvement. He trumpeted in a feeble way, and moved his trunk about. His piteous groanings ceased altogether. Manifestly he was on the mend.

"Bravo, Nadine!" exclaimed CÆsar, smiling radiantly at these cheering signs. "You always know just the right thing to do. That hot water is making Nalla well again. What a clever girl you are!"

Nadine was so ruddy from her exertions and the heat of the blaze at which she was working that the blush of pleasure her brother's praise evoked only added a deeper tinge as she made haste to reply.

"But it was you that thought of the fire, CÆsar, and if it were not for it there would be no hot water, you know," and she patted him lovingly on the shoulder.

At the end of half-an-hour Nalla got his head up, and not long after rose to his feet, although he was still very shaky on his great legs. But he held his trunk high once more, and looked at his young owners with a new brightness in his eyes. The danger which threatened his life had passed, and Nalla was undoubtedly saved!

The children were almost delirious with joy. They hugged in turn the elephant's trunk. They embraced one another. They danced around their big friend singing gleefully until they were completely tired out, and then they went back to their beds to try and get some sleep before the return of day.