Often she thought of Bruce, but hope of his finding her had long since died within her.

Every night when she climbed to her platform she vowed she would start south the next morning; south, toward the land where there were white people; but each morning found her hesitant.
Behind her tree there was a clearing, then a jumble of thickly growing trees; beyond those was another clearing, upon which stood a deserted elephant stockade.

The grass had grown rank in it for want of use.
She was in the act of putting on grass sandals when she saw, to her dismay, the approach of men and elephants.

Two elephants were ridden by mahouts.

Two other elephants were being jostled toward the stockade, evidently new captives.