During the three following days they continually traveled through the
gorge and, as it so happened, always up hill. The days were unusually
warm, the nights alternately cold and sultry. The rainy season was
approaching; here and there milk-white clouds heavy with rain hung low
down close to the horizon. Occasionally strips of rain could be seen,
and far off was a rainbow. On the morning of the third day one of these
clouds burst over their heads like a broken cask whose hoops had sprung
and deluged them with warm rain, but as good luck would have it, it did
not last long, and then the weather was fine once more, and they were
able to continue their journey. Now birds appeared in such quantities
that Stasch could shoot and bring down five of them without dismounting,
which more than sufficed for one meal and also enough for Saba. Riding
in the brisk air was not at all fatiguing, and a quantity of wild game
and plenty of water removed all fear of hunger and thirst. They were
getting along so well that Stasch was always good-natured, and while
riding by the side of the girl he talked cheerfully with her, and even
joked occasionally.
“Nell, do you know,” said he, as they halted for a short time under a
big breadfruit tree, from which Kali and Mea cut off large melon-shaped
fruits, “it sometimes seems to me as though I were a wandering knight.”
“And what is a wandering knight?” asked Nell, turning her pretty little
face toward him:
“A long, long time ago, in the Middle Ages, there were such knights, who
rode about the country looking for adventures. They fought with giants
and dragons—and do you know each one had his lady, whom he protected
and defended.”
“And am I such a lady?”
Stasch thought a moment and then answered:
“No; you are too young for that. Those ladies were grown up——”
And the idea never struck him that perhaps never had wandering knight
ever served lady so faithfully as he had his little sister. He took
everything that he had done for her as a matter of course.
But Nell felt hurt by his words, and screwing up her mouth into a pout,
she said:
“You once told me in the desert that I acted like a big girl of
thirteen. Ah!”
“Only once; but you are merely eight years old.”
“But in ten years I shall be eighteen.”
“Oh, that is a great while off, and then I shall be twenty-four, but at
that age a man does not think about any lady, for he has something quite
different to think of then; that is very evident.”
“And what are you going to do?”
“By that time I shall be an engineer or a mariner, or, if war were to
break out in Poland, I should travel there, to fight as my father
fought.”
Then she asked uneasily:
“But will you positively return to Port Said?”
“For the present we both must return there.”
“To our little papa,” sighed the girl.
And immediately her eyes were veiled by sadness and homesickness. As
good luck would have it, a swarm of beautiful gray parrots, with pink
heads and rose-colored down under their wings, flew toward them. The
children immediately forgot what they had been talking about, and their
eyes followed the flight of the birds.
The flock of parrots flew over a group of Euphorbia and came down upon a
neighboring sycamore, through the branches of which could be heard
voices that sounded like a chattering council, or a terrible quarrel.
“These are the parrots that learn to speak the most readily,” said
Stasch. “As soon as we make a longer halt I will do my best to try to
catch one for you.”
“Oh, Stasch, I thank you,” cried Nell joyfully. “I will call him
‘Daisy.’ ”
Mea and Kali, who meanwhile had been plucking the fruit from a
breadfruit tree, now loaded up the horses with them, and the little
caravan continued on its way.
In the afternoon it clouded over again, and several times there was a
short shower that filled all the crevices in the ground with water. Kali
prophesied a heavy storm, and it occurred to Stasch that in this case
the gorge, which had become narrower and narrower, would not be a safe
resting-place for the night, as it would most likely become the bed of
the stream. So he decided to spend the night above the gorge, and Nell
was delighted at this, especially when Kali, who had been sent out to
reconnoiter, returned, announcing that not far from where they were was
a forest of many kinds of trees, in which little monkeys were disporting
themselves; but these monkeys were not ugly and vicious as those they
had seen before. Therefore as soon as they struck a place where the
walls of the cliff were low and not too steep they led the horses up,
and when it was dark they prepared for night. Nell’s tent was put up in
a somewhat higher and drier place underneath a large ant-hill, which
completely barred the entrance from one side and strengthened the hedge
that led toward it.
In the vicinity stood an enormous tree with wide-spreading branches and
heavy foliage, which would shelter them sufficiently from the rain. In
front of the hedge grew scattered groups of trees, and further off was a
dense woods filled with underbrush, above which could be seen the tops
of strange palms resembling giant fans spread out like the tail of a
peacock.
Stasch learned from Kali that before the beginning of the second rainy
season—that is in autumn—it is dangerous to spend the night under
these palms, because the huge fruit ripens, breaks off when least
expected, and falls from its great height with such force that it might
kill a human being, or even a horse. But at the present time the fruit
had not matured. Before the sun went down little monkeys could be seen
in the distance scrambling and playfully chasing one another in the
tree-tops.
Stasch and Kali collected a sufficient quantity of wood for the night,
and as occasional heavy waves of hot air blew toward them, they fastened
down the hedge with pegs, which the young negro whittled with Gebhr’s
sword, and drove into the ground. This precaution was very necessary,
for the strong wind might break and tear down the thorn branches out of
which the hedge was made, and thus make it easy for wild animals to
attack them.
Soon after the sun went down the wind stopped suddenly, but on the other
hand the air had become heavy and sultry. In the spaces between the
clouds stars appeared occasionally, but later complete darkness settled
down, so that one could hardly see a foot in advance. The little
wanderers grouped themselves around the fire and listened to the chatter
and screams of the monkeys, which were making a perfect pandemonium. In
the neighboring woods the howls of the jackals and other strange
sounds—through which could be heard the restlessness and the fear of
that which under the veil of darkness in the wilderness threatens every
human being—united to form an appropriate accompaniment.
Suddenly the stillness became intense, and in the darkness the growl of
a lion was heard.
The horses, which were grazing nearby in the short jungle grass, began
to approach the light of the fire by hopping with their chained front
feet, and even then the hair of Saba, who was usually so courageous,
bristled, and he crouched in front of his master with his tail drawn
down, obviously seeking protection. The growl sounded again, this time
as if coming from the bowels of the earth; it was a deep, heavy,
long-drawn sigh, as if the animal had let it out of its powerful lungs
with difficulty. The sound rolled on glidingly close to the ground,
sometimes louder, sometimes softer, then becoming a deep, hollow,
unearthly sigh.
“Kali, put more wood on the fire,” cried Stasch.
The negro threw an armful of branches on the fire with such haste and
force that at first nothing but sparks ascended; then the flame blazed
forth.
“The lion will not attack us, will he, Stasch?” whispered Nell, pulling
the boy by the sleeve.
“No, he will not attack us. Look how high the hedge is——”
As he said this he positively thought that they were in no danger, but
still he was worried about the horses, which pressed nearer and nearer
the hedge and threatened to tread it down.
Meanwhile the sighing changed into a long-drawn-out thundering roar,
enough to terrify any human being, for even creatures who know no fear
tremble from head to foot, shaking like panes of glass at the report of
far-off cannon.
Stasch threw a hurried glance at Nell, and seeing her quivering mouth
and moist eyes, he said:
“Don’t be frightened. Don’t cry.”
She answered under a great strain:
“I don’t want to cry, but my eyes perspire so—oh!”
The last scream escaped from her lips because at that moment a second
roar, far more powerful and much nearer than the first, rang out from
the forest. The horses began to push themselves still nearer the hedge,
and if the long, steel-like prickles of the acacia branches had not
hindered them they would have broken through. Saba growled and trembled
like an ivy leaf, and Kali began to repeat in a broken voice:
[Illustration: “A second roar, far more powerful and much nearer than
the first, rang out from the forest. The echoes filled the jungle,
saturating the darkness with thunder and fear.” ]
“Sir! Two! Two! Two!”
As the lions were now responding to each other, they continued to roar,
and this awful concert kept up for some time in the darkness, for as
soon as one of the animals ceased the other began. Stasch was unable to
distinguish from what direction their voices came, for the echoes
repeated them over and over in the gorge and reverberated from cliff to
cliff, sounded above and beneath, filled the forest and the jungle,
saturating the darkness with thunder and with fear.
Only one thing seemed to the boy to be quite certain, and that was that
the beasts were surely approaching. Kali also noticed that the lions
were creeping round the bivouac, approaching in smaller circles, and he
also noticed that, being kept from attacking them by the fire, they were
expressing their displeasure and fear by emitting these dreadful sounds.
He also seemed to think that only the horses were in danger, for he
said, as he counted on his fingers:
“The lions will kill one, two; not all, not all!”
“Throw wood on the fire,” repeated Stasch.
Again a bigger flame burst forth, and suddenly the roars ceased. But
Kali raised his head and began to listen.
“What’s the matter?” asked Stasch.
“Rain——” answered the negro.
Now Stasch also pricked up his ears. The branches of the trees served as
a roof for the tent, and also for the entire hedge, and therefore not a
single drop fell to the ground, but it could be heard pattering on the
leaves above them.
As there was not a breath of even the sultry air stirring, it was easy
to conjecture that it was pouring in the thicket.
The sound increased moment by moment, and after a little while the
children perceived drops descending from the leaves, drops of rain that
looked like large rosy pearls in the firelight. As Kali had prophesied,
a terrific storm had come up. The sound of the storm increased until it
became a wild roar. Rain fell faster and faster, and at last great
streams of water penetrated the thicket. The fire was going out. Kali
threw on fagots to no effect. The wet branches only smoldered, the
blackened wood beneath crackled, and after a feeble flicker the flames
died away.
“Though the pelting rain drown the fire, the hedge will still protect
us,” said Stasch to calm Nell.
Then he led the little girl within the tent and covered her with a
shawl, after which he went out again at once, for he heard a short roar.
This time it seemed much nearer, and in it there was a note of triumph.
Every second the storm increased. The raindrops pelted the foliage like
shot. Had not the fire been protected by the branches it would have gone
out at once, but soon there arose only heavy smoke, through which narrow
blue flames shot up here and there. Kali thought that the fire was about
out, and so did not throw any more fagots on it. Instead, he quickly
swung a rope round the tree, and with its aid soon climbed higher and
higher.
“What are you doing?” asked Stasch.
“Kali climbs up the tree.”
“Why?” he screamed, angry at the boy’s selfishness.
A vivid flash of lightning shot through the darkness, and Kali’s answer
was drowned by a clap of thunder which shook the heavens and the
wilderness. At the same time a hurricane broke forth that tore the
branches off the trees and in a second swept over the place where the
fire had been and carried away the glowing pieces of wood which remained
under the ashes, and flung them, like fiery, sparkling sheafs, into the
jungle.
The next moment an impenetrable darkness enveloped the camp. The
terrible equatorial storm raged in the heavens and on the earth. Claps
of thunder and flashes of lightning followed one another in rapid
succession. The vivid forks of lightning tore wildly through the
somberness of the black sky. On the nearby cliff a strange-looking blue
ball was seen; for a time it rolled along the gorge, then flamed up into
dazzling brilliancy, exploding with such a terrible report that it
seemed as if the very rocks must be crushed to powder by the shock.
Then, as before, perfect silence reigned.
Stasch was worried on Nell’s account, and he groped his way toward the
tent, which was still standing, being protected by the ant-hill and the
immense tree trunk; nevertheless the next gust of wind might be heavier
and break the ropes and carry it away, heaven knows where. The storm
abated at times, then increased, and rivers of rain and masses of broken
twigs, branches, and foliage from the neighboring woods came thundering
down.
Stasch was nearly at his wits’ end. He did not know whether he ought to
leave Nell in the tent or take her out. In the first case she might
become entangled in the ropes and be carried off with the tent-canvas;
on the other hand, she stood a chance of getting thoroughly drenched and
being carried away in addition, for even Stasch, though much stronger
than she, was scarcely able to keep his own footing.
This desperate situation was at last solved by the whirlwind, which soon
carried off the top of the tent, and now the canvas walls offered no
further protection. There was nothing to do but to wait in the
impenetrable darkness, surrounded by two lions, for the storm to abate.
Stasch thought that perhaps these animals had also sought shelter from
the storm in the nearby forest, but he was quite sure that they would
return after the rain had ceased, and the awful predicament was made
worse by the fact that the hurricane had also demolished the hedge.
Everything threatened destruction. Stasch’s rifle was useless, and he
had no scope for his energy. Face to face with the storm, the lightning,
the tempest, the rain, the darkness, and the lions, he felt himself
defenseless, helpless. The canvas walls, beaten by the hurricane,
drenched them on all sides, so Stasch threw his arm around Nell and
guided her outside the tent; then they both clung to the tree trunk and
there waited either death or the merciful help of heaven.
But now suddenly between the blasts of wind came the voice of Kali,
which could scarcely be heard above the pattering of the rain.
“Ah! ah! Up the tree! Up the tree!”
And immediately a wet rope let down from above touched the boy’s
shoulder.
“Fasten Bibi to it. Kali will draw her up!” cried the negro again.
Stasch did not hesitate a minute. He rolled Nell up in the canvas, so
that the rope could not cut her, bound it tightly round her body, lifted
her up with outstretched arms, and cried, “Pull!”
There happened to be some low branches on the tree, so Nell’s journey
through the air was not long. Kali soon caught her in his strong arms
and deposited her between the tree trunk and an enormous branch, which
was roomy enough for half a dozen more such tiny beings as she. No blast
of wind could blow her down from the tree, and although the water ran
down the tree in a stream, the trunk, which was more than ten feet
thick, protected her at least from those sheets of water which the
tempest drove obliquely toward them.
After the negro had brought the little “Bibi” to this place of safety,
he let the rope down for Stasch, but he, like a captain who is the last
to leave his sinking ship, ordered Mea to climb up before him.
Kali’s help was unnecessary, for she swung herself up in a minute with
skill and agility, as though she were the sister of a chimpanzee. It was
a more difficult feat for Stasch, but still he was sufficiently trained
in gymnastics to overcome the weight of his own body, which was
increased by the rifle and the cartridges, with which he had hastily
filled his pockets.
In a short time they were all in the tree. Stasch had become so
accustomed to think always of Nell first, that he now set about at once
to see that she stood in no danger of falling off, ascertaining if she
had room enough, and whether she could lie down comfortably. Satisfied
in these respects, he began racking his brains as to how he could
shelter her from the storm. But there was not much hope that he would be
successful in this. To erect a small roof over their heads would have
been easy work during the day, but now the darkness surrounding them was
so intense that they could not even see each other. If the storm would
only abate they could light a fire to dry Nell’s clothes.
Stasch was in despair, thinking that the child, who was drenched to the
skin, would surely have her first attack of fever the following day. He
was afraid that it might be cold in the early morning after the storm,
as had been the case after the previous nights, though the blasts of
wind and the rain during the other storms had been warm. Stasch was only
surprised at its duration, for he knew that equatorial storms are the
fiercer in proportion to their speed in passing. It was a long time
before the thunder ceased and the wind calmed down a little, but even
then it continued to rain, not so heavily as before, but still the
raindrops were so heavy and dense that the foliage offered absolutely no
shelter. From beneath them could be heard the roaring of waters, as if
the whole jungle were converted into a sea. Stasch shuddered, thinking
that they would surely be destroyed in the gorge. He also thought of
what might have happened to Saba, and this made him very sad, but he did
not dare to talk about the dog to Nell. He cherished a fond hope that
the clever animal had found a safe refuge between the rocks that
overhung the gorge. At any rate, it was impossible for him to help the
dog.
And so they sat there close to one another, becoming wetter and wetter
under the outspread branches, and waiting for dawn. After a few hours
the air began to cool off and at last the rain stopped entirely. To all
appearances the water now only flowed over the edge of the promontories
down into the lower regions, for no splashing or hollow roaring could be
heard.
On the previous day Stasch noticed that Kali had attempted to make a
fire with wet branches and the idea suddenly struck him of ordering the
negro to descend and try if he could do it again. But just as he turned
toward him something happened which nearly froze the blood in the veins
of all four.
A terrible, heartrending cry from the horses—a cry full of pain,
surprise, and deadly fear—broke the silence of the night. Through the
darkness were heard frightful sounds, then a short gurgling, followed by
hollow sighs and groans, and at the very end a piercing, inexpressible
sound, and then silence reigned.
“The lions! Lions kill horses!” whispered Kali.
There was something so terrible in this attack by night, in the violence
of the elements, and in the sudden killing of the animals, that for a
minute Stasch’s blood nearly froze in his veins and he never once
thought of the rifle. But what good would it do to shoot in such
darkness? At best the nocturnal marauders, frightened by the light and
the report of the shots, would leave the dead horses, follow those who
had wandered away from the camping place as far as their bound feet
would permit, and would then run away.
At the thought of what really might have happened had they stayed below,
Stasch began to shudder. Nell, clinging to him, trembled as if seized by
her first attack of fever. However, the tree protected them from being
attacked. Doubtless it was Kali who had saved their lives.
In spite of all, however, it was a terrible night, by far the most awful
of the entire journey.
They crouched on the branches like drenched birds, and listened to what
was going on below. For a while deep silence reigned, then again there
were sounds denoting the tearing of large pieces of meat, the greedy
smacking of lips, the gasping breath and the groans of the monsters.
The scent of raw meat and blood penetrated into the top of the tree, for
the lions held their feast not further than twenty feet away from the
hedge. They feasted so long that Stasch lost patience and became angry,
and he took up the rifle and shot in the direction from which the noises
came. A short, broken-off, angry roar was the only answer. Then once
more was heard the cracking of the bones, which the animals of prey
crunched between their enormous jaws. In the background the blue and red
eyes of the hyenas and jackals glistened as they awaited their turn.
And so the endless hours of the night dragged on.