The new dwelling-place, which Stasch had named “Cracow,” was all ready
for them in three days. Most of the baggage had been placed in “the
men’s room,” and even before the house was ready the four youngsters
were well sheltered there during a severe storm. The rainy season had
now set in in earnest. This rain is not like our long autumnal storms,
when the sky is covered over with lowering clouds and the monotonous,
dreary weather lasts for weeks. Here the dense clouds which water the
earth so plentifully are dissipated by the wind several times a day.
Then the sun shines again as though just emerging from a bath and floods
the cliffs, the stream, the trees, and the entire jungle with its golden
light. One can almost see the grass grow. The foliage on the trees is
luxuriant, and before one fruit drops off another is forming. The
excessive moisture in the air makes it so transparent that even far-off
objects stand out distinctly and one can see to a great distance. On the
horizon there are beautiful rainbows, the colors of which are always
reflected in the waterfall.
During the short dawn and the twilight the sky shone and reflected a
thousand bright colors more wonderful than the children had ever seen
even in the Libyan desert. The clouds hanging down nearest the water
were cherry-colored, and the higher regions, better lighted, looked like
seas of purple and gold, and the small, puffy clouds shone alternately
like rubies, amethysts, and opals. At night, in the intervals between
showers, the moon converted the dewdrops hanging on the leaves of the
acacias and mimosas into diamonds, and the tropical light shone much
more brilliantly through the fresh, transparent air than at other
seasons of the year.
Under the waterfall, in the swamps formed by the stream, the croaking of
frogs and the melancholy concert of toads rang out, and the fireflies,
like shooting stars, flitted through the bamboo bushes from one bank to
the other.
When the clouds again hid the starry sky and it began to rain, the night
became pitch dark, and inside the tree it was as dark as a cellar. To
remedy this Stasch got Mea to melt some fat taken from the slain
animals, and out of a tin can be made a lamp, which he hung under the
upper opening that the children called a window. The light from this
window could be seen afar off through the darkness, and while it
frightened away the wild animals, it attracted bats and night birds, so
that finally Kali had to put up a kind of a curtain of thorns, like the
one with which he closed the lower opening for the night. In the
daytime, between showers, if the weather were fine, the children would
leave “Cracow” and wander over the entire strip of land. Stasch would
hunt gazels, antelopes, and ostriches, herds of which often appeared on
the banks of the lower stream, and Nell would visit her elephant, which
at first only trumpeted when he wanted some food, but later began
trumpeting when he felt lonesome for his little friend. He always
greeted her with signs of joy, and at once began to prick up his large
ears whenever he heard her voice or step even far away.
One day when Stasch was out hunting and Kali was fishing above the
waterfall, Nell decided to go to the rock which blocked the gorge to see
if Stasch had done anything to remove it. Mea, who was busy preparing
the mid-day meal, did not notice her departure. On her way Nell picked a
peculiar kind of begonia,[23] which grew in large quantities between the
crevices of the rock; she approached the slope over which they had
formerly ridden out of the gorge, and walked till she came to the rock.
The large boulder had broken off the side of the cliff, and barred the
mouth of the ravine as before, but Nell noticed that there was still
enough room between it and the wall of the cliff for even a grown person
to get through easily. She hesitated a while and then passed through,
gaining the opposite side. But there was still another bend, which had
to be passed before reaching the broad mouth of the gorge, enclosed by
the waterfall. Nell began to consider what she should do. “I will go
only a little farther; then I will look from behind a rock and take a
peep at the elephant; he will not spy me, and then I shall turn back.”
So she crept forward until she reached the place where the gorge
suddenly widened into a small, deep valley, and then she saw the
elephant. He stood with his back toward her, his trunk in the water,
taking a drink. This encouraged her, and keeping close to the wall of
the cliff, she walked a few steps, bending forward a little more; just
then the giant beast, who was going to take a bath, turned his head, saw
the little girl and immediately started toward her.
Nell was thoroughly frightened, but having no time to retreat, she made
her very prettiest courtesy, and then extending her hand in which she
held the begonias, said in a rather trembling voice:
“Good morning, dear elephant! I know you will not hurt me, and so I have
come here to say good-day to you—I have only these little flowers——”
The colossus approached, put out his trunk and took from Nell’s fingers
the blossoms, but no sooner had he put them in his mouth than he let
them drop, for evidently he did not like the taste of the stringy leaves
or the flowers. Nell now saw directly above her his trunk, which
resembled an enormous black snake; it stretched and contracted, touched
her little hands one at a time, then her arms, and at last it hung down
and began to swing from side to side.
“I knew you would not hurt me,” repeated the girl, although still
somewhat frightened.
The elephant flapped his huge ears, alternately extended and contracted
his trunk, and gave the grunt of satisfaction that he always did when
the girl approached the edge of the ravine.
Just as Stasch had once faced the lion, so now these two (Nell and the
elephant) stood face to face—he, a monster resembling a house or a
rock, and she a tiny crab that he, even if not angry, but merely
careless, might trample under foot.
But the careful beast did not move an inch, and seemed delighted at
beholding his little visitor.
Nell gradually took courage; at last, raising her eyes and looking up as
if to a high roof, she timidly extended her hand and asked:
“May I stroke your trunk?”
The elephant did not understand English, but he immediately knew what
she meant from the motion of her hand, and pushed the end of his
two-yard-long nose into the palm of her hand. Nell began to stroke the
trunk, at first only with one hand and very carefully, then with both,
and at last she threw both arms around it and clung to it with childish
confidence.
The elephant moved from one foot to the other, and grunted with
satisfaction.
Soon after, winding his trunk around the fragile body of the girl, he
lifted her high and began gently to swing her from side to side.
“More! More!” cried Nell, delighted.
This game lasted quite a while; the girl, who now had entire confidence
in the elephant and was no longer afraid, thought of another plan, for
on reaching the ground again she tried to climb up the foreleg of the
elephant, as though climbing up a tree, or hid behind him, and asked him
if he could find her. During these pranks she noticed that in the
elephant’s feet, especially in its hind feet, there were a great many
thorns, which the powerful animal was not able to extract, because, in
the first place, he could not reach his hind legs readily with his
trunk, and secondly, because he evidently was afraid of wounding the
finger which forms the end of the trunk, and without which he would lose
all his dexterity. Nell did not know that thorns in the feet torment
Indian elephants, and especially their cousins in the African jungles,
which mostly consist of prickly plants. Her sympathies were aroused for
the kindly giant, and squatting down near one of his feet, she began to
pull out the large thorns and then the small ones, chattering
incessantly and assuring the elephant that she would not let a single
one remain. He understood very well what was the matter, and bending his
knee, he plainly showed that there were thorns in the soles of his feet
between the hoofs protecting the toes, and these thorns were even more
painful than the others.
Meanwhile Stasch had returned from hunting, and at once asked Mea where
the little lady was.
On receiving the answer that she was probably in the tree, he was just
going to look inside when he thought he heard her voice in the gorge. To
make sure, he immediately sprang to the edge and looked down. He was so
frightened at what he saw that the blood nearly froze in his veins. The
girl was seated at the feet of the colossus, and the latter stood so
quiet that but for the movements of his trunk and ears one might have
thought him hewn out of stone.
“Nell!” screamed Stasch.
Earnestly engaged in what she was doing, she answered him cheerfully:
“In a minute! In a minute!”
The boy, who was not accustomed to postpone action when in danger,
picked up his rifle with one hand, while with the other he grasped a
dried liana stem, twisted both legs around it, and in a second swung
himself down to the level of the narrow pass.
The elephant flapped his ears uneasily, but at this instant Nell arose,
put her arms around his trunk and cried hastily, “Elephant, don’t be
frightened; that’s Stasch!”
Stasch at once saw that Nell was in no danger, but even then his legs
shook under him and his heart beat violently. But before he recovered
from his fright he mumbled in an angry but sad voice:
“Nell, Nell, how could you do that?”
She began to excuse herself, saying she had done nothing wrong after
all, for the elephant was kind and quite tame now, and she had only
intended to take a closer look at him and then go back, but he had
detained her by playing with her and carefully swinging her, and that if
Stasch liked he would swing him, too. As she spoke these words she
lifted the end of his trunk with one hand, and drawing it toward Stasch,
she waved the other hand from side to side, saying:
“Elephant, rock Stasch, too!”
The intelligent animal guessed from her movements what she wanted, and
in a second Stasch was grasped by the belt and swung through the air.
Seeing him looking so angry and at the same time swinging through the
air struck her as so comical, that she laughed till the tears ran down
her cheeks, and clapping her hands, she repeated as before:
“Elephant, swing Stasch, too!”
It was utterly impossible to maintain a severe demeanor and preach
morality while hanging to the end of an elephant’s trunk and being
involuntarily swung to and fro with clock-like regularity, so the boy at
last laughed too. After a while, noticing that the trunk was moving more
slowly, and that the elephant intended to put him down, a new idea
seized him, and when near one of the elephant’s large ears he held on to
it, and swinging himself onto the beast’s head, seated himself on his
neck.
“Aha!” he cried, as he glanced down at Nell, “he shall know that he has
to obey me.”
And with the look of a lord and master he began to feel around the head
of the beast.
“Good!” cried Nell from below, “but how will you get down?”
“That’s very easy,” answered Stasch.
Dropping his legs down over the elephant’s head, he fastened them around
the trunk and slid down as from a tree.
“That’s the way I shall get down.”
Now they both began to pull the remaining thorns out of the elephant’s
foot, and he submitted very patiently to the operation.
Meanwhile the first drops of rain had begun to fall, so Stasch decided
to take Nell back to “Cracow” at once. But an unexpected obstacle stood
in their way, for the elephant would on no account part with her, but
turned her round with his trunk and drew her toward him. The situation
began to be serious, and on account of the obstinacy of the animal their
happy play was in danger of ending badly. The boy did not know what to
do, for it was now raining harder and a bad storm threatened. Both
retreated a short distance toward the opening, but they had only taken a
few steps when the elephant followed them.
At last Stasch planted himself between Nell and the animal, looked
severely at him, and whispered to Nell:
“Don’t run away, but retire slowly and with measured step toward the
narrow passage.”
“And you, Stasch?” asked the little girl.
“Return!” he repeated energetically; “for otherwise I shall have to
shoot the elephant.”
At this threat she obeyed, especially as she now completely trusted the
elephant, and she felt sure that on no account would he hurt Stasch.
The boy stood four feet away from the giant, his eyes riveted on him.
Several minutes elapsed, then the situation became decidedly dangerous.
The elephant’s ears moved backwards and forwards several times, and he
had a peculiar twinkle in his little eyes; he raised his trunk suddenly.
Stasch turned pale.
“Death!” he thought.
But the colossus as suddenly turned to the wall of the narrow pass,
where he was accustomed to see Nell, and began to trumpet more sadly
than ever before.
Stasch now advanced toward the passage, and on the opposite side of the
rock he found Nell, who would not return to the tree alone.
The boy felt inclined to say to her: “See what you have done! A little
more and I should have perished, and you would have been to blame.” But
this was not the time to reproach her, for the rain had become a storm,
and it was necessary to get home as quickly as possible. Nell was quite
wet, notwithstanding that Stasch had wrapped her in his own coat.
When inside the tree Stasch ordered the negress to change Nell’s clothes
immediately. He released Saba, who had been tied up in the men’s room
for fear he would scent the game and frighten it away; then Stasch began
to hunt through all the clothing and baggage once more, in hopes of
finding a small dose of quinine which might have been overlooked. But he
found nothing. There only remained a little white powder in a corner of
the bottom of the vessel which the missionary in Khartum had given him,
but so little that it was hardly enough to whiten the tip of one’s
finger. He therefore decided to pour boiling water into the receptacle
and give this water to Nell to drink.
As soon as the storm subsided and the sun had come out again, he left
the tree to look at the fish caught by Kali. The negro had caught about
ten with a wire, which he had used for a line. Most of them were small,
but there were three a foot long, with silver spots, and of very light
weight. Mea, who had grown up on the banks of the blue Nile, and knew
about the fish, said that these were very good to eat, and that at night
they jump high out of the water. While cleaning them it was found that
they were so light because they had large air bladders inside them.
Stasch took one of these little skins, which was the size of a large
apple, and showed it to Nell.
“Look,” said he, “this was inside the fish. A pane for our window could
be made from a quantity of these bladders.” And he pointed to the upper
opening in the tree.
Then he thought for a minute and added:
“And something else.”
“What?” asked Nell, very curious.
“Kites.”
“Like those you used to fly in Port Said? Oh, good! Make some like
them!”
“I will; I will make the small frames out of thin strips of bamboo, and
use these bladders instead of paper. They will be lighter and better
than paper and the rain will not penetrate them. Such a kite will fly
very high, and in a strong wind it will fly—Heaven knows where.”
Then he suddenly tapped his forehead.
“I have an idea!”
“What is it?”
“You will see. As soon as my plan is formed you shall know all about it.
And now the elephant is trumpeting so loud we can’t hear ourselves
talk.”
In fact, the elephant trumpeted so loudly and continuously because he
was lonesome for Nell, and perhaps for both children, that it shook the
whole gorge and the neighboring trees.
“If we let him see us,” said Nell, “it may quiet him.” So they walked
toward the gorge. But Stasch, quite taken up with his new idea, began to
mutter to himself:
“Nell Rawlison and Stanislaus Tarkowski, from Port Said, who have
escaped from the hands of the Dervishes, are to be found——”
And taking breath, he asked himself:
“Yes, yes, but where shall I say—where?”
“What, Stasch?”
“Nothing, nothing! I have it now: ‘They can be found a month’s journey
away to the east of the blue Nile—and beg for immediate assistance.’
When there is a north or west wind I will send up twenty, fifty, one
hundred of such kites, and you, Nell, will help me to stick them
together.”
“Kites?”
“Yes, and I tell you this much—they may be of more service to us than
even ten elephants.”
Meanwhile they had reached the edge of the precipice, and once more the
colossus began to move from one foot to the other, to shake himself, to
prick up his ears, and as soon as Nell went away for a minute he began
trumpeting again. At last the girl explained to the “dear elephant” that
they could not always stay with him, for they had to sleep, eat, work,
and attend to household duties in “Cracow.” He was only pacified when
she threw down to him the food Kali had prepared for him, but in the
evening the trumpeting began again. That night the children named him
the “King,” for Nell insisted that before he entered the gorge he must
have been the king over all the elephants of Africa.
-----
Footnote 23:
Begonia Johnstoni.