“WE DIE TOGETHER.”
The elephants were sadly emaciated, for they had now been seven days
without food or water. Their great bodies looked gaunt, and their little
eyes were sunken well into the head. Their bodies were nearly half
covered with the ashes, and together with this and the fact that they
were so weak they could only move their heads, turning them from side to
side, showing that there was still life in their huge bodies.
“Yes, if we could get these elephants to the villa,” said Onrai, “they
could well take the place of those which were killed.”
“But even if you were to get them there, they would, with returning
strength, grow as wild as ever, would they not?” said Mr. Bruce.
“No,” said Onrai, “hunger always tames an elephant, and if he is taken
while hungry, and given food and placed with tame elephants, he is
generally as docile and manageable as any of those which have been in
captivity all their lives.”
“This is strange,” said Mr. Graham.
“Yes,” replied the King, “it is, but nevertheless true. Elephants do not
seem to have the fear of human beings that many other animals have, but
seem rather to like the association of man. I have seen wild elephants
follow us from out of the jungle, right down to the gate of the Hunting
Reserve, as gentle and seemingly as tame as the ones we were riding, and
I have no doubt that if we had let them through the gate, they would
have followed us to the city, and would have been just as happy and
contented with their tame companions as they had been running wild in
the jungle.”
“It seems a pity, then, that we have to leave them here,” said Mr.
Bruce, “when with help they might be gotten to where they could be
nursed back to life.”
“It would take considerable time and trouble, though, to do so,” said
Onrai. “Still, if we had men with us they could bring them food and
water and in this way put life enough into them to get them to the
villa. But come, the sun is nearly hidden behind the cliffs, and we have
a long ride before us.”
As if the dying elephants knew that their would-be rescuers were leaving
them, they turned their heads and watched them as they rode away, the
most pitiful expression coming into their little black eyes. There were
easily a hundred of them, and they made a great black spot on the plain
with their bodies, which were only half covered.
Our friends now hurried toward the villa, and after a ride of two hours,
again pulled up in front of the terrace. They had entered the villa, and
were just about to seat themselves to the evening meal, when the
tramping of many zebras’ hoofs were heard, and our friends, going to the
front entrance, looked toward the now covered avenue, and there saw in
the half light, a band of not less than two hundred mounted men. When
they saw the lights of the villa they turned and came toward it.
Silently they picked their way between the trees and up to the terrace,
where, recognizing the King, they gave a loud shout and then began a
chant, which Onrai explained to his companions, was a chant of praise.
After the chant was finished, the King stood on the terrace steps and
said:
“Onians, my countrymen, the sight of your faces, coming so unexpectedly,
pleases me greatly and draws from my heart some of the sadness which the
events of the past short while have caused. Your presence makes me feel
that if some of our dearly beloved men have gone, there yet remains
their sons and brothers and fathers, who will make this fair Land of On
yet the same as we knew it before the fearful eruption. We have met with
a terrible loss, but our men died in a good cause, and died bravely.”
“We do not understand you, oh King,” said one of the foremost.
“Ah, I forgot,” said Onrai, “but enough to-night. Find quarters for
yourselves and beasts, and on the morrow I will explain further. Prepare
yourselves, however, for sad news, for such you will hear.”
The men turned from the terrace and the King and his guests again went
into the villa. Onrai seemed much depressed, for how was he going to
tell these men that their fathers, sons and brothers had perished by the
hands of a band of negroes, and the terrible shower of ashes. They would
not understand either unless they could realize that this new covering
of ashes had overtaken their friends unexpectedly, and had buried them.
But then it would be hard to make them understand the eruption and what
caused it. They were too far away at the time to see or know anything of
the awful overflow, unless it be a black cloud which they could possibly
see. They may have felt the shocks of earthquake, but even this they
might not have experienced. Then they could know nothing of how their
friends had met death, nor could they understand the means by which they
had fallen.
So the King had a hard task before him in the morning and it worried him
fearfully. Enola had seen his downcast countenance, and guessing the
cause, had followed him out on the terrace. Taking hold of his arm, as
he paced up and down, she said:
“Onrai, do not give up at the outstart. This is a sad task which you
have to perform. But it is only the first one of a number like ones
which will come later, when the mothers and sisters and wives of the
unfortunates will come to gain information from you, when you will be in
the city. So if you give up now what will you do after awhile? Be strong
and make these men understand as well as possible, the real condition of
things. Try and impress them with the greatness of the deed which made
such heroes of their dead comrades, and of the fearful consequences if
they had failed to act so nobly and bravely. Say not too much about the
eruption, but leave the impression that it buried and burned the hated
negroes who had invaded this country, and had slaughtered so many of
their countrymen. Impress them with the fact that all of these brave
Onians were killed in defence of their country and their loved ones, and
then, if you can make them understand why these negroes were here, and
how they entered the country, they will better appreciate the great
sacrifice of life which has been made for them. Let them still retain
their old belief that theirs is the only world on this sphere, letting
them think that the negroes came from another world far away. They can
better understand the latter for they have seen us and believe that we
came from another planet, and this too, would leave the old belief
unshaken, and would insure less unhappiness, than if their life-long
teachings were destroyed.”
“You are right,” said Onrai, “as you always are, and I will act upon
your advice. But Enola, have you thought of the time when we will be
married? We are about to return to the city and the word has gone forth
that on the Day of Resis you will marry me.”
“The day has then been fixed?” questioned Enola. “I had not learned
this.”
“Yes, it has been decided upon,” said the King. “On that great day when
so many of my countrymen will meet, with joy and loud songs of praise,
on the evening of that day, after the ceremonies have been performed,
you will become my wife.”
Enola had expected that Onrai would make some such announcement soon,
but she had no idea that he would name such an early day, for, as she
understood it, the Day of Resis, was but a short time away.
“When is the Day of Resis?” asked Enola.
“Four weeks from to-day, according to your calendar,” said Onrai.
“Is not that very soon, Onrai?” asked Enola.
“Too soon?” exclaimed Onrai; “how can you ask such a question, Enola? If
you love me as I do you, you would wish, as do I, that the day was
to-morrow. The time to me seems a long way off. Our days will not be too
many after our marriage, and it is well we should add to these as many
as possible. And again, my people have so decreed that we should be
married on that day.”
“What are the ceremonies of the great Day of Resis?” again questioned
Enola.
“Hush, Enola, you must not ask me. The secret of the day is never
divulged, or even spoken of among those who know its secrets. But once
seen, the secret is then yours, and you will then know the meaning of
the Day of Resis. It is a glorious day, a day of great rejoicing and
happiness. Not one on that great day but feels a wonderful happiness,
even those who are not direct participants in its great ceremonies. It
falls to the lot of all, though, to be principal participants in the
proceedings of the day, one day of his life, and this is the greatest
day of all his or her days. Their joy is supreme, and their happiness
knows no bounds.”
“It must, indeed, be a great day,” said Enola, “and the people have
chosen this day to be my wedding day. How they must love their King!”
“Yes, the King and the fair stranger whom he is to marry,” said Onrai.
“I doubt the latter,” said Enola, “for they were too ready to kill both
her and her friends when they thought that she had been the cause of the
storm.”
“Don’t, don’t, Enola, mention that fearful time. I would blot it from my
mind. It was the one time in my life that I lost confidence in my
people, and the one time when I would have turned against them. I feel,
though, that they have now bitterly regretted their action, for they
have seen the folly of it.”
“Will we be married in the Temple?” asked Enola, wishing to take Onrai’s
mind from such a painful subject as the one she had mentioned.
“Yes,” said Onrai; “in the Temple, surrounded by my people, and the
ceremony will be grand in the extreme. I am, I suppose, the first King
who has ever been married, but this, of course, I cannot say positively,
for we know nothing of the reign or history of past Kings. Still, the
high priest has said as much. Our marriage ceremonies are mostly of a
religious nature, and are accompanied by much song and music. Our
marriage garments are made of pure cloth of gold, and those who will be
with us, will be robed much in the same way.”
“Shall we live in the Temple?” again asked Enola.
“Yes,” said Onrai; “but in apartments which you have never seen;
apartments grand beyond description. These apartments were made by the
builder of the Temple, for the King in whose reign an unusual event
would occur. So says the high priest; and he further says that my
marriage is an event never before heard of, and that it must have been
this which the founder of the country foresaw when he had these chambers
planned and held for this purpose. None but the high priest has ever
entered them, but they must be sublime from what he has told me of
them.”
“And what will be my life as the King’s wife?” questioned Enola.
“Your life will be much the same as it is now, but you will be called
upon to take a part in all duties which belong to the King. In the
ceremonies of the Day of Resis, for instance, you will stand near me and
perform the same duties which alone belong to myself, and in this way,
sharing the duties of my office, we go down to our death, happy, knowing
no sorrows or troubles and assured of that great happiness in the
eternity beyond.”
“And do we then go together?” asked Enola, as she remembered the mode of
death of some of the women of India.
“Yes; it is so decreed,” said Onrai.
The horror of this made Enola faint for a moment, and she made a resolve
to leave this land as soon as possible. Until beyond the rocky cliffs
again, all happiness for her had flown.