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

raft, not the king’s yacht.”
    “Handmade native crafts fetch a handsome price in the city these days,” the man shrugged.
    Nak pulled a note out of his pocket and waved it in the air. “Five hundred,” he said. “And that’s my final offer.”
    “One thousand,” smiled the man. “And that’s my final price.”
    Nak couldn’t risk letting the elephant enter the sanctuary while he haggled over five hundred
baht
with this river rat. He pulled out another note and handed the money over.
    “Follow me, gentlemen,” said the man with a grin. “You won’t regret your decision. She glides like a dream.”
    The old man on the porch began cackling like a mynah bird, and Nang reached for his medallion.
    Standing over the raft they’d just purchased, the mahouts winced. “Does it float?” Nang asked.
    “Sound as a cork,” the man beamed. “Don’t let appearances fool you.”
    “But it’s a bundle of sticks.” Nang nudged the raft with his foot.
    “Never mind about that,” Nak leapt in. “How does it work?”
    “You’ll need a pole to steer by. Then climb aboard, push her out to the middle of the river, and let the current do the work.”
    “Where’s the pole?” Nak searched the ground for something to steer by.
    “Did you want to buy a pole as well?” asked the man.
    A cackling in the tree above sent Nang reaching for his medallion again. But it was only a pair of mynahs.

    Tua, Pohn-Pohn, and Kanchanok took a narrow path along the ridge and down to a beach on theriver. While Pohn-Pohn frolicked in the water, Tua sat on the bank and stared at the sanctuary on the other side.
    They had made it. Pohn-Pohn’s new home was just across the river—and it was beautiful over there. The elephants seemed so kind to one another. And the people seemed so kind to the elephants. Pohn-Pohn would be very happy here. She already loved the river, rolling in the current and blowing spouts with her trunk. Tua smiled. But there was a touch of sadness in her eyes.
    “What is it?” Kanchanok asked, sitting down beside her. “What’s wrong?”
    “Nothing,” she sighed. “It’s just that … well … Kanchanok … would you look after Pohn-Pohn for me … when I’m gone?”
    Before he could answer, they heard voices on the river and, shielding their eyes, turned to look upstream.
    A raft was coming around the bend sideways. There was a man on one end stabbing the riverwith a pole, and a man on the other end shouting instructions and insults. And then the raft began a slow spin, as if caught in a whirlpool.

    After much paddling and stabbing with the pole, the raft corrected itself and was careening downstream nose first.
    Tua sprang to her feet and shouted: “It’s them, Kanchanok! It’s the mahouts!”
    “What mahouts?” Kanchanok asked, leaping up beside her. “Where?”
    Pohn-Pohn was nowhere in sight.
    Nak, who had been urging Nang to give up the pole, turned around to face downstream … when he saw an elephant’s trunk—and then its head—rise up out of the water in front of him. It seemed to be bearing down on him like a wrecking ball.
    “Turn away!” he shouted to Nang. “Turn, turn, turn!”
    Nak began rocking the raft with his feet in an attempt to steer it around the elephant, but succeeded only in breaking its bonds. There werenow two rafts, held together by Nak and Nang’s legs. Nak leapt onto one half while Nang leapt onto the other. The two halves parted, taking separate currents around the elephant.
    Pohn-Pohn whirled her trunk around her head and soaked them both as they surfed past, bouncing on the current toward the rapids below.



CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Mae Noi
    A large floppy hat was watching from the opposite shore. The person sitting under it stood up, lifted the hat in the air, and waved it over her head.
    “What have you got for me today,
hoon lai ga
?” she shouted across the river.
    “That’s Mae Noi,” Kanchanok said to Tua. “Sometimes I bring her injured animals from