During the days that followed, when it did not rain, Nell spent most of
her time with King, who now made no objection to her going away, because
he found that she returned frequently during the day. Kali, who was
afraid of elephants, was very much surprised at this, but at last they
convinced him that the great and good “Msimu” had bewitched the giant,
and he too began to visit it. King was kindly disposed to him and also
to Mea; but Nell was the only one who could do what she liked with him,
and a week later she ventured to take Saba along with her. Stasch felt
very much relieved, for without worry he now could leave Nell in the
care of—or, as he expressed himself, “under the trunk” of—the
elephant, go hunting, and sometimes even take Kali along without feeling
any anxiety. He felt certain that the animal would not now leave them
under any circumstances, and he began to ponder as to how he could
release King from his imprisonment.
He had long ago fully decided on his plan of action; but the sacrifice
it demanded was so great that he considered a long while before
attempting it, and even then put it off from day to day. As he had no
one else with whom to talk the matter over, he finally decided to
confide his plans to Nell, although he still looked upon her as a child.
“The rock could be blasted,” said he, “but that would mean the
destruction of a great many cartridges, for the bullets would have to be
removed, and the powder poured out until enough was obtained. This I
would put into the deep crevice in the middle of the rock, cover it up,
and light it. The rock would then be blown to pieces, and we could let
King out.”
“But suppose that were to make a dreadful noise—wouldn’t he be
frightened?”
“Then let him be frightened!” replied Stasch quickly. “That is the least
thing that worries me. Nell, it really is not worth while talking
seriously to you.”
Nevertheless he continued talking, or rather thinking aloud:
“If too little powder be used the rock will not split, and the powder
will be wasted, and yet if enough be put in there will not be much left
over; besides, if it were to explode prematurely we might be killed.
Then what would be left to hunt with, what to defend us with in case of
an attack? You know quite well that if I had not had this rifle and
these cartridges we should long since have lost our lives, either when
in Gebhr’s hands or from starvation. We are lucky, too, in having
horses, for by ourselves we could not carry either the baggage or the
cartridges.”
Thereupon Nell put out her forefinger and said very emphatically:
“If I tell King to do it, he will carry everything.”
“What burdens will he have to carry; we have very few things left.”
“Nevertheless, he will protect us——”
“But he can not shoot game with his trunk as I can with my rifle.”
“Well, we can eat figs and the large pumpkin-like fruits that grow on
the trees, and Kali can catch fish.”
“Yes, as long as we stay near a stream. We must stay here and wait until
the rainy season is over, for these continual showers are sure to give
you the fever. Remember that we must continue our journey later, and we
may possibly strike a desert.”
“Like the Sahara?” asked Nell, much alarmed.
“No; but one without streams and fruit-trees and acacias and mimosas. In
a place like that one can only live on game. King would find grass, and
I antelopes, but if I have nothing to shoot them with King could not
capture them.”
Stasch certainly had reason to be worried, for now that the elephant was
tame and had become so well acquainted with them, it would not be right
to desert him and leave him to starve; on the other hand, releasing him
meant losing most of the ammunition and certainly risking death.
And so Stasch put the work off from day to day, every evening repeating
to himself: “Perhaps I may think of some other way to-morrow.”
Meanwhile other troubles came upon them.
In the first place Kali had been terribly tortured by bees when he went
far down the stream after a rather small gray-green bird, a so-called
bee-hawk, well known in Africa. The black boy had been too lazy to smoke
the bees out, and although he returned with some honey, he was so stung
and swollen that an hour later he became unconscious. The “good Msimu,”
with Mea’s assistance, drew out the poisonous stings, and then quickly
made him poultices of wet mud. But toward morning it seemed as though
the poor negro would die. Fortunately, good care and a strong
constitution triumphed, but it was ten days before he regained his usual
health.
In the second place, something had gone wrong with the horses. Stasch,
who was obliged to tie them up and lead them to water during Kali’s
illness, discovered that they were beginning to get very lean. This
certainly was not caused by insufficient food, for the grass was very
luxuriant after the rain, making very good pasture. And yet the horses
dwindled before his eyes. A few days later their hair began to fall out,
their eyes had lost their brilliancy, and a thick slime ran from their
nostrils. Finally they refused to graze, and drank a great deal, as
though consumed by fever. When Kali saw them they were nothing but skin
and bones, and he knew at once what was the matter.
“Tsetse!” said he, turning to Stasch. “They must die!”
Stasch knew what this meant, for in Port Said he had often heard of an
African fly called “tsetse,” which is such a terrible plague in certain
places that in districts permanently infected with it the negroes own no
cattle, for where circumstances favor its multiplying it destroys
animals in no time. Horses, cattle, and donkeys which have been bitten
by the tsetse-fly pine and die in a few days. Animals inhabiting these
districts know the danger that threatens them, for entire herds of
cattle, on hearing the buzzing near their watering-places, are so
frightened that they stampede in every direction.
Stasch’s horses had been stung by these flies, and not only the horses,
but the donkey, too. Kali rubbed them daily with a plant that smelled
like an onion, which he found in the jungle. He said that the smell of
it would drive away the “tsetse”; but notwithstanding all his efforts
the horses continued to grow thinner. Stasch was terrified when he
thought of what would happen if all the animals were to die. How could
Nell, the rugs, the tent, the cartridges, and the crockery be taken
along? There were so many things that at best King was the only one who
could carry them. But to release King would mean sacrificing two-thirds
of the gunpowder.
Further and greater troubles were now heaped on Stasch’s head, like the
clouds in the heavens, which rained down incessantly in the jungle. And
at last came the greatest misfortune, the one before which everything
else seemed as nothing—the fever.