So they crept cautiously through the bushes and got around to the
other side of the tree, at the back of the rhinoceros; then they
closed up till they were quite near it, and all fired together. The
beast jumped up, ran a little way, and then fell down dead.
They bound it, and dragged it for two whole days, until they reached
the town, when Mkaaah Jeechonee began singing,
"Oh, mother, I have killed
The noondah, eater of the people."
But he received the same answer from his mother: "My son, this is
not the noondah, eater of the people."
And many persons came and looked at the rhinoceros, and felt very
sorry for the young man. As for his father and mother, they both
begged of him to give up, his father offering to give him anything
he possessed if he would only stay at home. But he said, "I don't
hear what you are saying; good-bye," and was off again.
This time he still further increased the distance from his home, and
at last he saw an elephant asleep at noon in the forest. Thereupon
he said to his attendants, "Now we have found the noondah."
"Ah, where is he?" said they.
"Yonder, in the shade. Do you see it?"
"Oh, yes, master; shall we march up to it?"
"If we march up to it, and it is looking this way, it will come at us,
and if it does that, some of us will be killed. I think we had best
let one man steal up close and see which way its face is turned."
As every one thought this was a good idea, a slave named Keerobo'to
crept on his hands and knees, and had a good look at it. When he
returned in the same manner, his master asked: "Well, what's the
news? Is it the noondah?"
"I do not know," replied Keeroboto; "but I think there is very little
doubt that it is. It is broad, with a very big head, and, goodness,
I never saw such large ears!"
"All right," said Mkaaah Jeechonee; "let us eat, and then go for it."
So they took their arrowroot cakes, and their molasses cakes, and
ate until they were quite full.
Then the youth said to them: "My people, to-day is perhaps the last we
shall ever see; so we will take leave of each other. Those who are to
escape will escape, and those who are to die will die; but if I die,
let those who escape tell my mother and father not to grieve for me."
But his attendants said, "Oh, come along, master; none of us will die,
please God."
So they went on their hands and knees till they were close up, and
then they said to Mkaaah Jeechonee, "Give us your plan, master;"
but he said, "There is no plan, only let all fire at once."
Well, they fired all at once, and immediately the elephant jumped
up and charged at them. Then such a helter-skelter flight as there
was! They threw away their guns and everything they carried, and made
for the trees, which they climbed with surprising alacrity.
As to the elephant, he kept straight ahead until he fell down some
distance away.
They all remained in the trees from three until six o'clock in the
morning, without food and without clothing.
The young man sat in his tree and wept bitterly, saying, "I don't
exactly know what death is, but it seems to me this must be very
like it." As no one could see any one else, he did not know where
his attendants were, and though he wished to come down from the tree,
he thought, "Maybe the noondah is down below there, and will eat me."
Each attendant was in exactly the same fix, wishing to come down,
but afraid the noondah was waiting to eat him.
Keeroboto had seen the elephant fall, but was afraid to get down
by himself, saying, "Perhaps, though it has fallen down, it is not
dead." But presently he saw a dog go up to it and smell it, and then
he was sure it was dead. Then he got down from the tree as fast as
he could and gave a signal cry, which was answered; but not being
sure from whence the answer came, he repeated the cry, listening
intently. When it was answered he went straight to the place from which
the sound proceeded, and found two of his companions in one tree. To
them he said, "Come on; get down; the noondah is dead." So they got
down quickly and hunted around until they found their master. When
they told him the news, he came down also; and after a little the
attendants had all gathered together and had picked up their guns
and their clothes, and were all right again. But they were all weak
and hungry, so they rested and ate some food, after which they went
to examine their prize.
As soon as Mkaaah Jeechonee saw it he said, "Ah, this is the
noondah! This is it! This is it!" And they all agreed that it was it.
So they dragged the elephant three days to their town, and then the
youth began singing,
"Oh, mother, this is he,
The noondah, eater of the people."
He was, naturally, quite upset when his mother replied, "My son,
this is not the noondah, eater of the people." She further said:
"Poor boy! what trouble you have been through. All the people are
astonished that one so young should have such a great understanding!"
Then his father and mother began their entreaties again, and finally
it was agreed that this next trip should be his last, whatever the
result might be.
Well, they started off again, and went on and on, past the forest,
until they came to a very high mountain, at the foot of which they
camped for the night.
In the morning they cooked their rice and ate it, and then Mkaaah
Jeechonee said: "Let us now climb the mountain, and look all over the
country from its peak." And they went and they went, until after a
long, weary while, they reached the top, where they sat down to rest
and form their plans.
Now, one of the attendants, named Shindaa'no, while walking about,
cast his eyes down the side of the mountain, and suddenly saw a great
beast about half way down; but he could not make out its appearance
distinctly, on account of the distance and the trees. Calling his
master, he pointed it out to him, and something in Mkaaah Jeechonee's
heart told him that it was the noondah. To make sure, however, he
took his gun and his spear and went partly down the mountain to get
a better view.
"Ah," said he, "this must be the noondah. My mother told me its ears
were small, and those are small; she told me the noondah is broad and
short, and so is this; she said it has two blotches, like a civet cat,
and there are the blotches; she told me the tail is thick, and there
is a thick tail. It must be the noondah."
Then he went back to his attendants and bade them eat heartily, which
they did. Next he told them to leave every unnecessary thing behind,
because if they had to run they would be better without encumbrance,
and if they were victorious they could return for their goods.
When they had made all their arrangements they started down the
mountain, but when they had got about half way down Keeroboto and
Shindaano were afraid. Then the youth said to them: "Oh, let's go on;
don't be afraid. We all have to live and die. What are you frightened
about?" So, thus encouraged, they went on.
When they came near the place, Mkaaah Jeechonee ordered them to take
off all their clothing except one piece, and to place that tightly
on their bodies, so that if they had to run they would not be caught
by thorns or branches.
So when they came close to the beast, they saw that it was asleep,
and all agreed that it was the noondah.
Then the young man said, "Now the sun is setting, shall we fire at it,
or let be till morning?"
And they all wished to fire at once, and see what the result would
be without further tax on their nerves; therefore they arranged that
they should all fire together.
They all crept up close, and when the master gave the word, they
discharged their guns together. The noondah did not move; that one
dose had been sufficient. Nevertheless, they all turned and scampered
up to the top of the mountain. There they ate and rested for the night.
In the morning they ate their rice, and then went down to see how
matters were, when they found the beast lying dead.
After resting and eating, they started homeward, dragging the dead
beast with them. On the fourth day it began to give indications of
decay, and the attendants wished to abandon it; but Mkaaah Jeechonee
said they would continue to drag it if there was only one bone left.
When they came near the town he began to sing,
"Mother, mother, I have come
From the evil spirits, home.
Mother, listen while I sing;
While I tell you what I bring.
Oh, mother, I have killed
The noondah, eater of the people."
And when his mother looked out, she cried, "My son, this is the
noondah, eater of the people."
Then all the people came out to welcome him, and his father was
overcome with joy, and loaded him with honors, and procured him a rich
and beautiful wife; and when he died Mkaaah Jeechonee became sultan,
and lived long and happily, beloved by all the people.