In Desert and Wilderness/Part 2/Chapter 7
VII
The new abode, which Stas named "Cracow," was completed in the course of three days. But before that time the principal luggage was deposited in the "men's quarters" and during great downpours the young quartette staid in the gigantic trunk, perfectly sheltered. The rainy season began in earnest but it was not one of our long autumn rains during which the heavens are heavy with dark clouds and the tedious, vexatious bad weather lasts for weeks. There, about a dozen times during the day, the wind drives over the sky the swollen clouds, which water the earth copiously, after which the sun shines brightly, as if freshly bathed, and floods with a golden luster the rocks, the river, the trees, and the entire jungle. The grass grew almost before their eyes. The trees were clad with more abundant leaves, and, before the old fruit fell, buds of the new germinated. The air, owing to the tiny drops of water suspended in it, grew so transparent that even distant objects became entirely distinct and the view extended into the immeasurably far expanse. On the sky hung charming, seven-colored rainbows and the waterfall was almost continually attired with them. The brief dawn and twilight played with thousands of lights of such brilliance that the children had not seen anything like it, even on the Libyan Desert. The lower clouds, those nearest the earth, were dyed cherry-colored, the upper, better illuminated, overflowed in the shape of a lake of purple and gold, and the tiny woolly cloudlets changed colors like rubies, amethysts, and opals. During the night time, between one downpour of rain and another, the moon transformed into diamonds the drops of dew which clung on the mimosa and acacia leaves, and the zodiacal light shone in the refreshed transparent air more brightly than at any other season of the year.
From the overflow which the river formed below the waterfall came the uneasy croaking of frogs and the doleful piping of toads, and fireflies, resembling shooting stars, flew from bank to bank amid the clumps of bamboo and arum.
But when clouds covered the starry heaven and the rain began to fall it became very dusky and the interior of the baobab tree was as dark as in a cellar. Desiring to avoid this, Stas ordered Mea to melt the fat of the killed game and make a lamp of a small plate, which he placed beneath the upper opening, which was called a window by the children. The light from this window, visible from a distance in the darkness, drove away the wild animals, but on the other hand attracted bats and even birds so much that Kali finally was compelled to construct in the opening something in the nature of a screen of thorns similar to the one with which he closed the lower opening for the night.
However, in daytime, during fair weather, the children left "Cracow" and strolled over the promontory. Stas started after antelope-ariels and ostriches, of which numerous flocks appeared near the river below, while Nell went to her elephant, who in the beginning trumpeted only for food and later trumpeted when he felt lonesome without his little friend. He always greeted her with sheer delight and pricked his enormous ears as soon as he heard from the distance her voice or her footsteps.
Once, when Stas went hunting and Kali angled for fish beyond the waterfall, Nell decided to go to the rock which closed the ravine, to see whether Stas had done anything about its removal. Mea, occupied with preparations for dinner, did not observe her departure; while on the way, the little maid, gathering flowers, particularly begonia which grew abundantly in the rocky clefts, approached the declivity by which they at one time left the ravine and descending found herself near the rock. The great stone, detached from its native walls, obstructed the ravine as it had previously done. Nell, however, noticed that between the rock and the wall there was a passage so wide that even a grown-up person could pass through it with ease. For a while she hesitated, then she went in and found herself on the other side. But there was a bend there, which it was necessary to pass in order to reach the wide egress of the locked-in waterfall. Nell began to meditate. "I will go yet a little farther. I will peer from behind the rocks; I will take just one look at the elephant who will not see me at all, and I will return." Thus meditating, she advanced step by step farther and farther, until finally she reached a place where the ravine widened suddenly into a small dell and she saw the elephant. He stood with his back turned towards her, with trunk immersed in the waterfall, and drank. This emboldened her, so pressing closely to the wall, she advanced a few steps, and a few more yet, and then the huge beast, desiring to splash his sides, turned his head, saw the little maid, and, beholding her, moved at once towards her.
Nell became very much frightened, but as there was no time now for retreat, pressing knee to knee, she curtsied to the elephant as best she could; after which she stretched out her little hand with the begonias and spoke in a slightly quivering voice.
"Good day, dear elephant. I know you won't harm me; so I came to say good day—and I have only these flowers—"
And the colossus approached, stretched out his trunk, and picked the bunch of begonias out of Nell's little fingers, and putting them into his mouth he dropped them at once as evidently neither the rough leaves nor the flowers were to his taste. Nell now saw above her the trunk like a huge black snake which stretched and bent; it touched one of her little hands and then the other; afterwards both shoulders and finally descending it began to swing gently to and fro.
"I knew that you would not harm me," the little girl repeated, though fear did not leave her.
Meanwhile the elephant drew back his fabulous ears, winding and unwinding alternately his trunk and gurgling joyfully as he always gurgled when the little girl approached the brink of the ravine.
And as at one time Stas and the lion, so now these two stood opposite each other—he, an enormity, resembling a house or a rock, and she a mite whom he could crush with one motion, not indeed in rage but through inadvertence.
But the good and prudent animal did not make angry or inadvertent motions, but evidently was pleased and happy at the arrival of the little guest.
Nell gained courage gradually and finally raised her eyes upwards and, looking as though onto a high roof she asked timidly, raising her little hand:
"May I stroke your trunk?"
The elephant did not, indeed, understand English, but from the motion of her hand discerned at once what she wanted and shoved under her palm the end of his trunk, which was over two yards in length.
Nell began to stroke the trunk; at first carefully with one hand, afterwards with both, and finally embraced it with both arms and hugged it with perfectly childish trust.
The elephant stepped from one foot to the other and continually gurgled from joy.
After a while he wound the diminutive body of the girl with his trunk and, lifting her up, began to swing her lightly right and left.
"More! More!" cried Nell, intensely amused.
And the play lasted quite a long time and afterwards the little girl, now entirely bold, invented a new one.
Finding herself on the ground, she tried to climb on the elephant's fore legs, as on a tree, or, hiding behind them, she asked whether he could find her. But at these frolics she observed one thing, namely, that numerous thorns were stuck in his hind legs; from these the powerful beast could not free himself, first because he could not conveniently reach his hind legs with his trunk, and again because he evidently feared to wound the finger with which the trunk ended and without which he would lose his skill and cleverness. Nell was not at all aware that such thorns in the feet are a real plague to elephants in India and still more in the African jungles composed mainly of thorny plants. As, however, she felt sorry for the honest giant, without any thought, having squatted near his foot, she began to extract delicately at first the bigger splinters and afterwards the smaller, at which work she did not cease to babble and assure the elephant that she would not leave a single one. He understood excellently what she was concerned with, and bending his legs at the knee showed in this manner that on the soles between the hoofs covering his toes there were also thorns which caused him still greater pain.
In the meantime Stas came from the hunt and at once asked Mea where the little lady was. Receiving a reply that she undoubtedly was in the tree, he was about to enter the interior of the baobab tree when at that moment it seemed to him that he heard Nell's voice in the depth of the ravine. Not believing his own ears, he rushed at once to the edge and, glancing down, was astounded. The little girl sat near the foot of the colossus which stood so quietly that if he did not move the trunk and ears, one would think that he was hewed out of stone.
"Nell!" Stas shouted.
And she, engaged with her work, answered merrily:
"At once! At once!"
To this the boy, who was not accustomed to hesitate in the presence of danger, lifted his rifle with one hand in the air and with the other grabbed a dry liana stalk, which was stripped of its bark, and, winding his legs about it, slid to the bottom of the ravine.
The elephant moved his ears uneasily, but at that moment Nell rose and, hugging his trunk, cried hurriedly:
"Don't be afraid, elephant! That is Stas."
Stas perceived at once that she was in no danger, but his legs yet trembled under him, his heart palpitated violently, and before he recovered from the sensation, he began to speak in a choking voice, full of grief and anger:
"Nell! Nell! How could you do this?"
And she began to explain that she did not do anything wrong, for the elephant was good and was already entirely tamed; that she wanted to take only one look at him and return, but he stopped her and began to play with her, that he swung her very carefully, and if Stas wanted he would swing him also.
Saying this, she took hold of the end of the trunk with one hand and drew it to Stas, while she waved the other hand right and left, saying at the same time to the elephant:
"Elephant! Swing Stas also."
The wise animal surmised from her gesture what she wanted of him, and Stas, caught by the belt of his trousers, in one moment found himself in mid-air. In this there was such a strange and amusing contrast between his still angry mien and this rocking above the earth that the little "Mzimu" began to laugh until the tears came, clapping all the time her hands and shouting as before:
"More! More!"
And as it is impossible to preserve an appropriate dignity and deliver a lecture on deportment at a time when one is suspended from the end of an elephant's trunk and involuntarily goes through the motions of a pendulum, the boy in the end began to laugh also. But after a certain time, noticing that the motions of the trunk were slackening and the elephant intended to deposit him on the ground, a new idea unexpectedly occurred to him, and, taking advantage of the moment at which he found himself close to the prodigious ear, he grabbed it with both hands and in the twinkling of an eye climbed over it onto the head and sat on the elephant's neck.
"Aha!" he exclaimed from above to Nell; "let him understand that he must obey me."
And he began to stroke the elephant's head with his palm with the mien of a ruler and master.
"Good!" cried Nell from below, "but how will you get down now?"
"That is small trouble," Stas answered.
And slinging his legs over the elephant's forehead, he entwined the trunk with them and slid over it as if down a tree.
"That is how I come down."
After which both began to pick out the rest of the thorns from the legs of the elephant who submitted with the greatest patience.
In the meantime the first drops of rain fell; so Stas decided to escort Nell to "Cracow"; but here an unexpected obstacle presented itself. The elephant did not want to part from her and every time she attempted to go away he turned her about with his trunk and drew her towards him. The situation became disagreeable, and the merry play in view of the stubbornness of the elephant might have ended unfortunately. The boy did not know what to do as the rain became each moment heavier and a downpour threatened them. Both withdrew, indeed, somewhat towards the egress, but gradually, and the elephant followed them.
Finally Stas stood between him and Nell. He fixed his gaze upon the elephant's eyes and at the same time said to Nell in an undertone:
"Don't run, but continually draw back to the narrow passageway."
"And you, Stas?" the little maid asked.
"Draw back!" repeated Stas with emphasis, "otherwise I shall have to shoot the elephant."
The little maid, under the influence of this threat, obeyed the command; the more so as, having already unbounded confidence in the elephant, she was sure that under no circumstances would he do any harm to Stas.
But the boy stood about four paces from the giant, not removing his eyes from him for a moment.
In this manner a few minutes passed; a moment full of danger followed. The ears of the elephant moved a score of times, his little eyes glittered strangely, and suddenly his trunk was raised.
Stas felt that he was turning pale.
"Death!" he thought.
But the colossus turned his trunk unexpectedly toward the brink where he was accustomed to see Nell and began to trumpet more mournfully than he had ever done before.
Stas went peacefully to the passageway and behind the rock found Nell, who did not want to return to the tree without him.
The boy had an uncontrollable desire to say to her: "See what you have done! On account of you I might have been killed." But there was no time for reproof as the rain changed into a downpour and it was necessary to return as quickly as possible. Nell was drenched to the skin though Stas wrapped her in his clothing.
In the interior of the tree he ordered the negress to change Nell's dress while he himself unleashed Saba, whom previously he had tied from fear that in following his tracks he might scare away the game; afterwards he began to ransack all the clothing and luggage in the hope that he might find some overlooked pinch of quinine.
But he did not find anything. Only at the bottom of the small gallipot which the missionary had given him in Khartûm there lay a little white powder which would scarcely suffice for whitening the tip of a finger. He nevertheless determined to fill the gallipot with hot water and give this gargle to Nell to drink.
Then when the downpour had passed away and the sun began to shine again, he left the tree to look at the fish which Kali had brought. The negro had caught about twenty upon a line of thin wire. Most of them were small, but there were three about a foot long, silver speckled and surprisingly light. Mea, who was bred upon the banks of the Blue Nile, was conversant with these fishes; she said that they were good to eat and towards evening they leap very high above the water. In fact, at the scaling and cleaning of the first it appeared that they were so light because they had big air bladders. Stas took one of them about the size of an apple and brought it to show to Nell.
"Look!" he said. "This was in the fish. We could make a pane for our window from about a dozen of these."
And he pointed at the upper opening in the tree.
But reflecting for a time he added:
"And even something more."
"What is it?" asked Nell.
"A kite."
"Such as you used to send up in Port Said? Oh good! Do."
"I will. With thin, cut pieces of bamboo I will make a frame and I will use these membranes instead of paper for they are lighter and the rain will not soak them. Such a kite will go away up in the air and with a powerful wind will fly the Lord knows where—"
Here he suddenly struck his forehead.
"I have an idea."
"What is it?"
"You shall see. As soon as I figure it out better, I will tell you. Now that elephant of yours is making such a racket that one cannot even talk."
Indeed, the elephant, from longing for Nell, and perhaps for both children, trumpeted so that the whole ravine shook, together with the adjacent trees.
"We must show ourselves to him," Nell said. "That will quiet him."
And they strolled to the ravine. But Stas, entirely absorbed in his thoughts, began in an undertone to say:
"'Nelly Rawlinson and Stanislas Tarkowski of Port Said, having escaped from the dervishes in Fashoda, are at—'"
And stopping abruptly, he asked:
"How to designate the place?"
"What, Stas?"
"Nothing, nothing. I already know,—'are about a month's journey west of the Blue Nile and beg for immediate aid.' When the wind blows to the north or to the west I will send twenty, fifty, a hundred of such kites and you, Nell, shall help me to paste them."
"Kites?"
"Yes, and I tell you that they can be of greater service to us than ten elephants."
In the meantime they reached the brink. And now began the shuffling of the elephant's feet, the nodding, the movements of the ears, the gurgling, and again the mournful trumpeting when Nell attempted to retire even for a moment. In the end the little maid began to explain to the "dear elephant" that she could not be with him all the time, for, of course, she had to sleep, eat, work, and keep house in "Cracow." But he became quiet only when she shoved down to him with a pitchfork provisions prepared by Kali; at night he again began to trumpet.
The children that same evening named him "The King," as Nell was sure that before he got caught in the ravine he undoubtedly was the king of all the elephants in Africa.