NJOKOOS AND THEIR BABIES
A njokoo and her baby, a few days old, were by themselves in the great
forest. Mamma Njokoo had left the herd to which she belonged, for her
little one was too small and could not climb the steep mountains and
keep pace with the big njokoos when they were afraid and in full run. It
is the custom of the mamma njokoos always to leave the others when they
have a little one.
The baby njokoo’s little eyes looked very cunning. His bit of a trunk
was going continually up and down, his ears flapped against his head,
and his tail was always moving. To his mamma he was a very sweet little
baby njokoo.
Often when Mamma Njokoo looked at her little one she would think of all
the troubles and dangers that were ahead of him. The njokoos have
wonderful memories, and she remembered all that she had gone through
during her life, and how many escapes she had had in running away from
those horrid human beings, whom she dreaded and hated so much, and how
many of her friends had been snared and killed in their meshes. As she
thought of all these tribulations and dangers, she said, half to herself
and half to her little one: “Dear, as long as you are small, I shall
fight and defend you. Then when you are big you will have to fight and
run for yourself. You will have to be very wary if you want to reach
your full size.”
One day she was delighted when she saw him pick up some leaves with his
trunk and put them into his mouth, for the njokoos’ trunks are their
hands. It was the first time that he had plucked leaves. He began to
know how to get his own living. His mamma loved him dearly, and was by
his side all the time, looking at him in such a tender way, caressing
him with her big trunk, and once in a while giving soft trumpetings of
affection, which showed how dear he was to her. So they spent their days
together, and if they met some big animal, Mamma Njokoo would give
shrill trumpetings of anger and come close to him to protect him. One
night she stood still, close to him, until daylight, for she had scented
a njego.
One day they met another njokoo with her baby, and they were glad to see
each other, for both felt lonely. They uttered trumpetings of joy and
said, “Let us stay together; it will not be so lonely.” And from that
day they became companions. When they found branches with leaves that
were tender, they would reach them with their trunks, and pull them down
and break them, and give them to their little ones.
As time passed away, they met other njokoos with their babies. All made
a herd entirely composed of mamma and baby njokoos, and the young ones
liked to play together and became very fond of one another. The old ones
thought they had never seen such a pretty set of little njokoos in their
lives, and each was very proud of the one belonging to her.
Once, one of the little ones got entangled among the lianas, or wild
vines, for the part of the forest in which they were was full of them.
He trumpeted plaintively. As soon as the mother heard him, she came to
him, and with her trunk set him free, and then scolded him for being so
careless, and pointed out to him the thick lianas that were so close
together that they formed a trap for little njokoos to get into, and
taught him to look out for such places, and told him thereafter to be
shy of them.
It is wonderful what the njokoos can do with their trunks. The hands of
human beings could not be more nimble and dexterous, and it requires a
good deal of thinking to separate one liana from another. But njokoos
are very ingenious and intelligent.
One day, as one of the mamma njokoos was busy plucking with her trunk
leaves that were high up, she heard a noise. Her little one had fallen
into a deep hole made by heavy rains. She uttered peculiar trumpetings
which showed her anxiety, and meant, “I am coming, dear, I am coming,”
as she ran toward the place and saw him looking at her imploringly and
calling for her by trumpeting, which meant, in the language of the
njokoo children, “Oh, mamma, help me out of this hole.”
Poor Mamma Njokoo was very much excited and went all around the hole to
see what she could do to rescue her baby. She bent down on her knees and
lowered her trunk to reach him, and tried to pull him up, but this did
not do, for he was heavy and the sides of the hole were too steep. In
the mean time another Mamma Njokoo, who heard her cries of distress,
came to see what was the matter and how she could help.
When Mamma Njokoo saw that she could not succeed in the way she had at
first tried, she began to dig the ground with her big forefeet near the
border of the hole, tearing up at the same time the roots of the trees
that were in her way; and finally she succeeded in making a sloping way
going to the bottom of the hole. It had been hard work. After she got
through this work, the little one walked out, to the delight of his
mamma, who nevertheless gave him a scolding for being so careless.
The big njokoos and their little ones continued to wander through the
forest, other njokoos with their babies joining them. One day the big
njokoos scented water and were delighted, for it was quite a while since
they had had a good bath. They all wanted one, and wished also their
little ones to enjoy a swim.
They walked as fast as they could toward the water, and at last came to
a beautiful river. At this sight all the mamma njokoos gave trumpetings
of delight, and soon after they were all in the river swimming, throwing
water up with their trunks, and having lots of fun, trumpeting to each
other, “How nice the water feels! How I enjoy my bath!” They were all
having a grand time. The little ones rested on the backs of their
mothers when they were swimming.
One Mamma Njokoo went a little farther than she ought to have gone.
Suddenly she was carried into the very rapid current of the river, which
ran with great force, and the little njokoo was washed off her back by
it. She gave cries of distress when she saw this. But she was carried
still farther into the middle of the stream, and the baby was carried
farther and farther away from her. Poor Mamma Njokoo was grievously
distressed. She was afraid her little one would be drowned. He also
looked at his mother, trumpeting, “Save me, save me, mamma!” Fortunately
he could swim a little.
Mamma Njokoo at last got close to him, having succeeded in getting him
in her lee, her big body protecting him from the strong current, as he
swam alongside of her. There was great excitement among all the njokoos
when they saw one of the little ones drifting away, and they followed
her, swimming along the shore, trumpeting advice and telling her what to
do.
The two at last were carried into a big eddy and there rested for a
while. Then Mamma Njokoo said to her little one, “We are going to get
out of this eddy and into the strong current again. You must manage to
keep close to me.” As soon as they swam out of the eddy, the current was
so strong that they were carried down the river, but Mamma Njokoo swam
toward the shore and at last succeeded in coming to a part of the stream
where the water did not run so fast. Then the little one succeeded in
getting on the top of his mamma’s back when they were in still water.
There was great rejoicing among all the njokoos when they reached the
land, for they loved one another dearly. All the little njokoos were
also very glad. They had become great friends.
[Illustration: [Elephant]]
The herd of mammas and little ones resumed their wanderings. Twice a big
njokoo, who scented them, came up as if to join them, but they trumpeted
to him: “Go away. Go away; we do not want you. We have to walk slowly in
the forest on account of our little ones.”
But, as time passed, the little njokoos grew big. They could run fast.
One day, as all the herd were together, they heard the shrill trumpeting
of the big njokoo. He had scented them and was coming toward them. Soon
he was among them, and they were all glad. He became their chief and led
them, and was ready to fight any big njokoo that wanted to take his
place.