THE ZEAL OF DR. TASA
I entered my tent. How awfully alone I was! I should never find him
again in the bottom of the camera or in the midst of postage stamps!
I should never hear his little voice, prompting me with “Miferino.” I
should never carry him astride the battlement, or on the crown of my
hat. The imperial tomb was empty except for the white cotton bed!
I couldn’t sleep. After I don’t know how long the moon rose. I got
up to look at the clock. It was midnight. Fiam had been walking four
hours. How far had he gone?
The firing continued every now and then. “Little thunder,” I thought,
remembering the queer idea of my friend. Every few minutes I looked
at the clock. One o’clock passed; two o’clock passed. I was getting
anxious. I thought an hour had gone by—it was five minutes.
At half-past two I began to listen. A quarter to three, three, a
quarter past three——
I thought he hadn’t found the mine, and I almost felt glad at the idea
that I might see him again.
Half-past three. The minutes seemed like eternity. Twenty-five minutes
to four. Twenty minutes to four——
It was (I shall never forget it) at precisely thirteen minutes to four
when the night was lighted by an immense brilliant blue light. A few
seconds later the whole earth shook and a horrible explosion rent the
air. Then silence.
It wasn’t long before the trumpets blew. The camp was all commotion.
Commands were issued, confused with shouts. These, I made out, were
joyful.
“The mine has been fired! The mine has been fired!” they repeated again
and again.
The ranks formed. The regiments drew up in line of march. The officers
galloped about. The flags were unfurled.
At dawn the columns moved—fresh and eager, as if starting off for the
first encounter.
The terrible pass was traversed by the soldiers singing while the
bayonets glistened in the rising sun. Two hours later we were safely
outside the mountainous defile, and were joined by the main army.
The enemy was forced to give battle, and was defeated.
That evening they all feasted in the general’s tent. All the officers
were happy. I alone was sad.
After a while they began to ask, Who could have blown up the mine? Some
one said:
“The soldiers sent to explore returned without finding anything.”
“Perhaps,” another suggested, “it blew up of itself on account of poor
construction.”
“No,” said a third. “It was blown up by the enemy; they thought we were
on the march, near the mine.”
I arose and said solemnly:
“I know who blew up the mine and made your victory and escape possible.”
“Tell us, tell us!” they shouted in chorus. “Who?”
“It was Fiam, who....”
“Who is that?” asked twenty voices at once. “Who is our hero and our
rescuer? How did you know him?”
“It is,” I proceeded firmly, “the Haji of an old willow tree that....”
A tumult of laughter greeted me. Even the general joined in. They
thought I was joking. The general cried:
“Still more legends, ha, ha!”
“I am in earnest,” I said, turning to him, and couldn’t help adding,
“It was the Haji of Funato, your Haji.”
The laughter increased. “Legends, superstitions, fancies,” I heard in
the midst of the hilarity.
I was so bewildered I didn’t know whether to get angry or laugh with
them.
Suddenly I felt a touch on my shoulder. I turned to see an officer
looking attentively at me. “My name is Tasa. Let me feel your pulse.
Show me your tongue. I recommend a little ice on the head.”
Transcriber's Notes
Original spelling and punctuation have been preserved as much as
possible. Minor typographical errors have been corrected without note.