The Fifth Elephant

'Er, of the male persuasion,' said Gaspode. 'A boy wolf. Er. Very much so.'

'Thank you, Gaspode.'

'Extremely male. Um. In a very def'nite way. Unmistakably.'

'Yes, I think I understand.'

'And this is just words. In smell, it's a lot more, well, emphatic.'

'Thank you for that, Gaspode. And they're heading...'

'Still straight for the mountains, boss,' said Gaspode, as kindly as he could. He wasn't certain of all the details of human sexual relationships, and the ones he was certain of he still couldn't quite believe, but he knew that they were a lot more complicated than those enjoyed by the doggy fraternity.

'This smell...'

'The extremely male one I was talkin' about?'

'The very one, yes,' said Carrot levelly. 'You could still smell it if you were on the horse, could you?'

'I could smell it with my nose in a sack of onions.'

'Good. Because I think we should move a little faster now.'

'Yes, I thought you'd think that.'

Constable Visit saluted when Nobby and Colon entered Pseudopolis Yard.

'I thought you ought to know about this right away, sir,' he said, flourishing a square of paper. 'I just got it off Rodney.'

'Who?'

'The imp on the bridge, sir. He paints pictures of carts going too fast? No one had been feeding him,' Visit added, in a mildly accusing tone.

'Oh. Someone speeding,' said Colon. 'So?' He looked again. 'That's one of those sedan chairs the deep-down dwarfs use, isn't it? Them trolls must've been moving!'

'It was just after the Scone was stolen,' said Visit. 'Rodney writes the time in the corner, see? A bit odd, I thought. Like a kind of getaway vehicle, sir?'

'What'd a dwarf want to steal a worthless lump of rock for?' said Colon. 'Especially them dark dwarfs. They give me the creeps in those stupid clothes they wear.'

Angry silence rang like a dropped girder in a temple. There were three dwarfs in the room.

'You two! You ought to be out on patrol!' barked Sergeant Stronginthearm. 'I've got business down at Chitterling Street!'

All three dwarfs marched out, somehow contriving even to walk angrily.

'Well, what was that about?' said Fred Colon. 'Bit touchy, aren't they? Mister Vimes says that sort of thing all the time and no one minds.'

'Yes, but that's because he's Sam Vimes,' said Nobby.

'Oh? And are you inferring I'm not?' said Captain Colon.

'Well, yes, Fred. You're Fred Colon,' said Nobby patiently.

'Oh, I am, am I?'

'Yes, Captain Colon.'

'And they'd better bloody remember it!' Colon snapped. 'I'm not a soft touch, me. I'm not going to take insubordination like that! I've always said Vimes was a bit too soft on those dwarfs! They gets the same pay as us and they're only half the size!'

'Yes, yes,' said Nobby, waving his hands placatingly in a desperate attempt to calm things down. 'But, Fred, trolls are twice as big as us and they get paid the same, so it—'

'But they've only got a quarter of the brains, so it's just the same, like I said—'

The noise they heard was long and drawn out and menacing. It was the sound of LanceConstable Bluejohn's chair being pushed back.

The floor creaked as he shambled past Colon, removed his helmet from its peg with one enormous hand and headed for the door.

' 'm goin' on patrol,' he mumbled.

'You're not on patrol for another hour,' said Constable Visit.

' 'm goin' now,' said Bluejohn. The room was darkened for a moment as he eclipsed the doorway, and then he was gone.

'Why's everyone so tetchy all of a sudden?' said Colon. The remaining constables tried not to catch his eye.

'Did I hear someone snigger?' he demanded.

'I didn't hear anyone snigger, Sarge,' said Nobby.

'Oh? Oh? You think I'm a sergeant, do you, Corporal Nobbs?'

'No, Fred, I— Oh, gawds...'

'I can see things have got pretty slack around here,' said Captain Colon, an evil little gleam in his eye. 'I bet you were all thinking, oh, it's only fat old Fred Colon, it's all going to be gravy from now on, eh?'

'Oh, Fred, no one thinks you're old— Oh, gawds...'

'Just fat, eh?' Fred glowered around the room. Suddenly, and against all previous evidence, everyone was vitally interested in their paperwork.

'Right! Well, from now on things are going to be different,' said Captain Colon. 'Oh, yes. I'm on to all your little tricks— Who said that?'

'Said what, captain?' said Nobby, who'd also heard the little whispered 'We learned 'em all from you, sarge,' but at this moment would eat live coals rather than admit it.

'Someone said something blotto voice,' said Captain Colon.

'I'm sure they didn't, captain,' said Nobby.

'And I won't be eyeballed like that, neither!'

'No one's looking at you!' wailed Nobby.

'Aha, you think I don't know that one?' Colon shouted. 'There's plenty of ways to eyeball someone without lookin' at 'em, corporal. That man over there is earlobing me!'

'I think Constable Ping is just really interested in the report he's writing, Fre— Sar— Captain.'

Colon's ruffled feathers settled a little. 'Well, all right. And now I'm going up to my office, all right? There'll be some changes around here. And someone bring me a cup of tea.'

They watched him go up the stairs, enter the office and slam the door.

'Well, the—' Constable Ping began, but Nobby, who had a lot more experience of the Colon personality, waved one hand frantically for silence while he held the other one to his ear, very theatrically.

Then they all heard the door click open again, quietly.

'A change is as good as a rest, I suppose,' said Constable Ping.

'As the prophet Ossory says, better an ox in the potters' fields of Hersheba than a sandal in the wine presses of Gash,' said Constable Visit.

'Yeah, so I've heard,' said Nobby. 'Well, I'll just make him his tea. Everyone feels better after a cup of tea.'

A couple of minutes later the constables heard Colon shouting, even through the door.

'What is wrong with this mug, corporal?!'

'Nothing, Sa— sir. It's yer mug. You always have your tea in it.'

'Ah, but, you see, it is a sergeants mug, corporal. And what is it that officers drink out of?'

'Well, Carrot and Mister Vimes have got their own mugs—'

'No, they may choose to drink out of mugs, corporal, but Watch regulations say officers have a cup and saucer. Says so right here, regulation 301, sub-section c. Do you understand me?'

'I don't think we've got any—'

'You know where the petty cash is. Usually you're the only person that does. You're dismissed, corporal.'

Nobby came down the stairs white-faced, holding the offending receptacle.