It was the tyrannical boss, paying a visit to the forest. His aim was to make money from the sawmill, miles downriver. Success, power, prosperity. The elephant was his instrument.

'Come on now! Logs left lying around butter no parsnips. Get them into the water and turn them into money. Pull, elephant, pull!'

'No.' said the elephant. And 'Shan't.' And 'Don't want to.'

'What?' said the boss. 'Can I believe my ears? The elephant said 'No' to the Company Director? Something must be done about this.'

The elephant glanced at the log. It was particularly large and heavy. 'I'm really not in the mood today,' he said. 'I've got a headache, and anyway, it's Sunday. I think I'll put my feet up and take it easy. Don't worry about the logs. I'll move them when I feel like it.'

The boss went marching into the Elephant Master's hut. The man was sitting by the fire eating a banana sandwich and reading the book reviews in the Independent on Sunday.

'Look here,' said the boss, 'the elephant is not pulling his weight. I expect you to see that he gets those logs into the water immediately. And I think you need to talk to him about his attitude to his superiors. Telling me he doesn't feel like it, indeed!'

The Elephant Master looked up and smiled. 'Sorry, I can't help you. It's his day off. Mine, too, as a matter of fact. I suppose you must be a workaholic, coming round here at the weekend instead of taking it easy like the rest of us.'

'I don't see why an elephant should have a day off.' The boss was standing with his hands on his hips, staring at the man, who was idly licking his sticky fingers.

'He's not a machine, you know. If he doesn't have his rest day, his overall level of productivity will decline,' said the other. 'He has a right to spend time with his family, watch television, enjoy his hobbies. We can't have him getting exhausted, depressed and morose. All workers need to be contented if they are to produce their best work.'

'I am not happy with this situation,' said the Company Director. 'I shall put it to the Board. I think we shall be making some changes to the Regulations.'

The Elephant Master shrugged. 'You must do as you think best.' He rose and lit an oil lamp before picking up the newspaper again. He hoped the boss would leave, but he did not move. Tension in the hut was high. It was impossible to read in that atmosphere, so the Elephant Master gave a sigh, put down the paper and reached for a tin from the shelf.

'Would you like a piece of fruit cake?' he said.

The Company Director hesitated. 'Is is Dundee?' he asked.

'It is,' said the master. 'I know it's your favourite.' He cut two large slices and put them on the banana leaves he used as plates, to save washing up. He nodded towards the second armchair and both men sat down.

'My problem,' said the boss, 'is to get as many logs into the sawmill in as short a space of time as possible. That is the way to success, power and prosperity. While elephants are sitting about watching television, we are losing money.'

'I understand your point of view.' The master picked out a large cherry from his slice of cake, put it in his mouth and sucked it thoughtfully. 'But efficiency is not as straightforward as it seems. If we do not give the elephants the right conditions, they could make things very difficult for us. They could go on the rampage, for example. Could do a great deal of damage, you know. Or they could down trunks, and never move another log as long as they live. And they can live for over a hundred years. Believe me, we have to understand them and keep them in the manner that befits their importance.'

They both sat staring into the fire, eating, and contemplating the rights of the workers.

After a while, the master said, 'There are hundreds of logs already in the water, bobbing along quite nicely. If there aren't too many snags, they will reach the sawmill before too long.'

'I know. And I do appreciate all your efforts to keep the elephant working steadily.' The boss sighed. 'It's the new logs that worry me. If the supply of new timber is not coming along, what of the future?'

'You mustn't be anxious.' His friend reassured him. 'So long as there are trees in the forest, the lumberjacks will fell them, the elephants will pull them, and the river will carry them along to the sawmill. But I can't have my elephant working on a Sunday, and that's final. There has to be a limit.'

The Company Director had to accept that the Elephant Master had a point. There did have to be a limit to the amount that could be done. There had to be a limit to the dreams of infinite success, power and prosperity.

In fact that came sooner than they expected. The great demand for paper caused a shortage of trees. Because of this, the soil became eroded, and no new trees grew. After a time the business of transporting logs had to cease. The elephants were laid off, and spent more time with their families, and could put their feet up whenever they felt like it. The Elephant Master retrained, and got a job in information technology, and the Company Director took early retirement, and didn't know what to do with himself. So everything came to an end. Well, not quite everything. The river went on flowing, and is still flowing to this day. Let us hope that global warming will not cause it to dry up.