At this time, I should mention, the wind, which had been rustling the hail-stripped reeds at the lake border, had died away almost, but not completely; that is to say, only a very faint gust blew now and again, which, with a hunter's instinct, I observed with satisfaction drew _from_ the direction of Jana towards ourselves.

This I knew, because it struck on my forehead, which was wet with perspiration, and cooled the skin.
Presently, however, by a cursed spite of fate, one of these gusts--a very little one--came from some quarter behind us, for I felt it in my back hair, that was as damp as the rest of me.

Just then I was glancing to my right, where it seemed to me that out of the corner of my eye I had caught sight of something passing among the stones at a distance of a hundred yards or so, possibly the shadow of a cloud or another elephant.

At the time I did not ascertain which it was, since a faint rattle from Jana's trunk reconcentrated all my faculties on him in a painfully vivid fashion.
I looked to see that all the contemplation had departed from his attitude, now as alert as that of a fox-terrier which imagines he has seen a rat.

His vast ears were cocked, his huge bulk trembled, his enormous trunk sniffed the air.
"Great Heavens!" thought I to myself, "he has winded us!" Then I took such consolation as I could from the fact that the next gust once more struck upon my forehead, for I hoped he would conclude that he had made a mistake.
Not a bit of it! Jana as far too old a bird--or beast--to make any mistake.