Tua and the Elephant by R. P. Harris Read Free Book Online Page B

as before—not if Pohn-Pohn was swimming with her.
    Tua climbed to her feet and, standing on Pohn-Pohn’s head, scanned the shoreline in search of a place to land.
    “There.” She pointed to an empty beach, dove into the river, and swam the rest of the way on her own.

    The beach was not as empty as Tua originally thought. A committee of ducks had come down to the shore to meet them. They were lined up in a row and clapping their beaks in protest.
    “
Kho thot kha,
” Tua bowed, begging their pardon. She started to offer an explanation when Pohn-Pohn emerged from the river behind her. The elephant walked through the middle of the ducks to a shallow puddle up the beach, knelt down, tipped over on her side, and began rolling in the dirt and mud. She scooped up a dripping glob in her trunk and tossed it on her shoulder.
    This was more than the ducks could endure. They lifted into the air in a single body and soared out over the river like an arrow.
    When Tua turned back around, she saw two men with a fishing net coming over the embankment. She waved to them, but they didn’t respond. They weren’t looking at her. They were looking at Pohn-Pohn.
    She was thinking that she might owe them an apology as well, when they broke into a run. Before Tua lowered her arm, the men were on the beach and flinging their net over Pohn-Pohn.
    “Look out for the trunk, Krit,” cried the bald fisherman. “Get the net over its head.”
    “I’m trying, Prasong,” the scrawny fisherman replied. “It’s as strong as an elephant, you know.”
    Pohn-Pohn rocked back and forth and tried to lift her head and trunk—tried to get her legs under her body—but the net held her down in the mud. Then both men fell on top of her, and she screamed for help.
    Tua set off like a rocket and, pouncing on the bald fisherman, grabbed both his ears.
    “Ai-yee!” he cried, throwing his hands over his head. He scratched at Tua’s arms and rolled off Pohn-Pohn’s back.
    Tua dropped to the ground, ran to the river, dove in, and swam away from the shore.
    “Help, Prasong, quick!” called Krit. “I can’t hold it by myself.”
    As Prasong turned to assist his friend, Tua caught the current and was swept away downstream.

    Tua stayed in the current until she rounded a bend. Then she swam to shore, crept back along the embankment, and crouched down in the tall grass above Pohn-Pohn.
    “What do we do now?” asked the scrawny fisherman.
    “We’ll sell it, of course,” said Prasong. “Pound for pound, an elephant is worth more than a fish.”
    “But who do we sell it to?”
    “To me,” came an answer from atop the embankment.
    Recognizing the voice, Tua flattened herself in the tall grass and caught her breath.
    “Congratulations, gentlemen,” said Nak. “Well done, well done. Your talents are entirely wasted on the river. You could be big game hunters.”
    Nak and Nang followed a narrow path down to the beach. Nang carried a heavy chain over his shoulder and an ankus in his hand. The sight of the ankus, with its pointed spike and pointed hook, made Tua shudder.
    “If you just hold the beast steady while my partner attaches the chain to its foot,” said Nak, “we’ll gladly take it off your hands.”
    “Who are you?” Prasong squinted at the strangers.
    “I am the owner of that elephant you’re sitting on.”
    “What elephant? I don’t see any elephant. We’re fishermen. This is a fish. If you want to buy a fish, it’s twenty
baht
a pound. I reckon this fish weighs, oh … some four hundred pounds … times twenty … that would come to … eight thousand
baht,
” he grinned.
    Krit covered his mouth with his hand and snickered.
    “Come now, gentlemen,” said Nak, “be reasonable. You’re not exactly in the best bargaining position, are you? How did you plan on getting up? Do you have something to secure it with? Can one of you hold down an enraged ‘fish’ while the other goes off to fetch a chain or a rope? How long were you