The night passed quietly, for although there was a bank of clouds toward
the south, the morning was clear.
Following Stasch’s orders, Kali and Mea busied themselves after
breakfast gathering the fruit of the breadfruit tree, acacia pods, fresh
leaves, grass and roots of all kinds of eatables for the elephant, and
laid them down on the edge of the gorge. As Nell wanted very much to
feed her new friend herself, Stasch cut from a young, wide-branched
melon-tree a kind of pitchfork, so that she could more easily throw the
provisions into the bottom of the ravine. The elephant had been
trumpeting since early morning, for he was evidently hungry, and when he
saw on the edge of the cliff the same little white creature who fed him
the day before, he greeted her by making a joyful sound and immediately
stretched out his trunk toward her. In the morning sunshine the children
thought he looked even taller than the day before. Although he was very
thin, he seemed somewhat stronger now, and his tiny eyes looked almost
merrily at Nell. She even insisted that his forelegs had grown stouter
over night, and she made such haste to throw the food down to him that
Stasch was obliged to restrain her, for she finally became greatly
overheated and he had to take her place. Both children were having a
very good time, and they were especially amused at the queer faces the
elephant made. At first the animal ate everything indiscriminately that
fell at his feet, but when his hunger was somewhat appeased he was more
discriminating. When plants were given to him that he did not like, he
pushed them away with his forefeet and tossed them in the air with his
trunk, as though trying to say: “These delicacies I reserve for you up
there to eat.” Finally, after the beast had satisfied his hunger and
quenched his thirst, he began to slap his huge ears with great
satisfaction.
“I am sure,” said Nell, “that he would not hurt us now if we went down
to him,” and in order to make sure she called down to the elephant:
“Elephant, dear elephant, you would not hurt us, would you?”
And as the elephant moved his trunk as if in answer, she turned
triumphantly to Stasch: “Look! He says ‘Yes!’ ”
“Perhaps so,” replied Stasch; “elephants are very intelligent animals,
and this one has evidently come to the conclusion that we are necessary
for his welfare. Who can say whether he may not be a little grateful to
us? It is better not to attempt it now, and certainly Saba would not
dare do it, for he would be killed at once. Perhaps in time they may
become friends.”
All further conversation about the beauty of the elephant was cut short
by Kali, who, foreseeing that he would have to work hard every day to
obtain food for the beast, approached Stasch, smiled cheerfully, and
said:
“Great Man kill elephant and Kali eat him, instead of gathering grass
and branches for him.”
But the “Great Man’s” thoughts were miles away from killing the
elephant, and as he had a very happy disposition, he replied while
standing there:
“You’re a donkey.”
Unfortunately he had forgotten the word for “donkey” in the Ki-swahili
language—so he used the English word “donkey” and Kali, who did not
understand any English, concluded that this name was applied to him as a
compliment or a reward, for the children soon saw him turn toward Mea
and heard him bragging as follows:
“Mea has black skin and black head and Kali is a donkey.”
Then he continued, with pride:
“The Great Man himself said that Kali was a donkey.”
Stasch, after ordering them both to guard the young lady like the apple
of their eye, and to call him at once should anything happen, grasped
his rifle and started off toward the fallen rock that blocked up the
gorge. When he reached the spot he examined everything very carefully,
inspected all the cracks, put a twig into a crevice which he discovered
in the lower part of the rock and measured its depth exactly, then he
slowly returned to the camping place, opened his cartridge-case and
began to count the cartridges.
Scarcely had he counted three hundred when from out of a tall
baobab-tree near by, about five hundred feet from the tent, he heard
Mea’s voice crying:
“Sir! Sir!”
Stasch approached the big tree, the hollowed-out trunk of which
resembled a tomb, and asked:
“What do you want?”
“There are many zebras to be seen not far from here, and further off
antelopes also.”
“Good. I will take my gun and go after them, for we must have some meat
to smoke. But why did you climb up in the tree and what are you doing up
there?”
The girl answered in a sad, drawling voice:
“Mea saw a nest of gray parrots and wanted to bring the young ones to
the little lady, but the nest is empty, and so Mea will not get any
glass beads for her neck.”
“You will get some because you love the little lady.”
The young negress slid down hastily over the rugged tree bark, and with
eyes beaming with joy she called repeatedly:
“Oh, yes, yes! Mea loves the little lady very much, and she also loves
glass beads!”
Stasch stroked her head kindly, then he took the rifle, closed the
cartridge-case, and went in the direction where the zebras were grazing.
After half an hour had elapsed the crack of a shot sounded in the
camping-place, and at the end of an hour the young hunter returned with
the good news that not only zebras, but numerous herds of antelope and
small groups of water-bucks were feeding near the river.
Then he ordered Kali to take a horse with him and get the animal which
had been killed, while he himself carefully examined the huge trunk of
the baobab-tree and began to test the rugged bark with the end of his
rifle.
“What are you doing?” asked Nell.
He answered:
“Look, what a giant! Fifteen people holding one another’s hands could
not encircle this tree, which perhaps dates back to the time of Pharao.
But the lower part of the trunk is rotten and hollow. You see this
opening is large enough for any one to pass through. One could make a
sort of large room in there, where we all could live together. That
occurred to me when I saw Mea up in the branches, and while I was
silently approaching the zebras the plan continually recurred to me.”
“But we must hurry on to Abyssinia.”
“Yes. But we must rest also, and as I told you yesterday, I have decided
to stay here a week or two. You would not want to leave your elephant,
and on your account I am afraid of the rainy season, which has already
begun, when you will surely get the fever. The weather is fine to-day,
but you see that the clouds are gathering, and who knows if the rain
will not come before evening. The tent is not sufficient shelter for
you, and within this giant tree, provided it be not hollow to the very
top, we shall be able to laugh at the worst downpour. It would be much
safer for us within it than in the tent, for if we were to stuff this
opening and the windows, which we would have to make for light, with
thorns every evening, any number of lions could roar around the tree.
The rainy season only lasts a month during the spring, and I am still of
the opinion that we should wait until it is over. If we have to wait we
had better wait here in this giant tree than under a tent or anywhere
else.”
As Nell always acquiesced in Stasch’s plans, she assented now,
especially as she was delighted with the plan of remaining near the
elephant and living in the tree. She began at once to think how she
could arrange the rooms, how furnish them, and how they would then
invite each other to “five o’clocks” and dinners. Finally they both
became merry, and Nell immediately wanted to take a look at the new
house, but Stasch, who had learned day by day from experience to be
cautious, prevented her from proceeding in too great haste.
“Before we take possession of the house,” said he, “we must beg the
present inhabitants, if there are any there, kindly to depart.”
After this he ordered Mea to throw several lighted branches, which being
green smoked profusely, into the interior of the tree. It was well he
did so, for the giant tree was indeed inhabited, and by tenants whose
hospitality could not be depended upon.