“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.”
“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.
At last the sun rose and lighted up the jungle, the scattered groves, and the forest. The lions disappeared with the first ray of dawn. Stasch made Kali build a fire and ordered Mea to take Nell’s things out of the leather bag, in which they were packed, to dry them and change the girl’s clothes as quickly as possible. He took the rifle and carefully went over the camp to see what ravages had been made by the storm and the bloodthirsty beasts.
Just behind the hedge, only the stakes of which remained, lay the first horse, nearly half devoured; some hundred feet further, a second, hardly begun; and next to it the third, with its stomach torn open and its head smashed in. They all presented a terrible sight, for in their open, glassy eyes could be seen their terror at approaching death, and their wide-open jaws displayed their strong teeth. The ground was stamped down and the cavities formed pools of blood. Stasch was so enraged that at the moment he almost wished that the disheveled head of one of the nocturnal robbers, tired out after the feast, would appear behind one of the bushes, so that he might send a bullet through it. But he was obliged to postpone his revenge at present, for he had other things to attend to.
The remaining horses had to be caught. The boy supposed that like Saba, whose carcass was nowhere to be seen, they might have hidden somewhere in the woods. The hope that the faithful fellow-sufferer had not fallen a prey to the wild animals made Stasch feel so happy that he took courage once more, and the finding of the donkey naturally increased his joy. It so happened that clever longears had not even taken the trouble to run far away. He had simply crept into a nook made by the ant-hill and the large tree outside the hedge, and there, with head and sides protected, he had awaited events, in readiness at any moment to repulse the attack by vigorously kicking out his hind legs. But the lions had apparently not noticed him, so when the sun rose and the danger was over he felt the necessity of lying down and taking a good rest after all the tragical events of the night.
While circling the camp Stasch at last found the impress of horses’ hoofs in the moistened earth. The tracks pointed toward the woods and then turned off toward the gorge. That was fortunate, for it would not be difficult to capture horses in the narrow pass. A little further on in the grass was found a foot-chain, which one of the horses had succeeded in breaking off during its flight. This horse must have run away so far that for the present he would have to be considered lost. To offset this, Stasch discovered the other two behind a low rock, not in the ravine, but on its borders. One of them was rolling on the ground, the other grazing in the fresh green grass. Both looked very tired, as though they had run a long distance. But daylight had driven all fear from their hearts, and they greeted Stasch by neighing in a short, friendly way. The horse which was rolling on the ground sprang to his feet, which enabled the boy to see that he also had succeeded in breaking loose from his foot-chains, but fortunately he had preferred remaining with his friend to running away aimlessly.
Stasch left both of them under the cliff and advanced to the edge of the ravine to make sure whether it were possible to continue the journey. He now saw that the heavy downpour had been so severe that the rain had run off and the ground was nearly dry. And soon his attention was attracted by a grayish-white article, which had been caught in the vines overhanging the opposite side of the cliff. This proved to be the roof of the tent, which had been blown off and caught on the bushes; it had taken such a strong hold that the rain could not wash it away. After all, the tent offered a better shelter for Nell than the hut made of branches of trees put together hastily, and Stasch was much pleased at finding this article, which he had thought was lost.
Now his joy increased when out of a higher crevice in the cliff hidden by lianas Saba came running toward him, holding in his teeth an animal whose head and tail hung out of either side of his jaws. The huge dog climbed down in a minute and laid at Stasch’s feet a striped hyena, with broken back and one foot bitten off; then he began to wag his tail and to bark cheerfully as if to say: “I must acknowledge that I took to my heels before the lion, but even you crouched like birds on the tree. And besides, you see, I have not passed the night without accomplishing something.”
And he was so proud of himself that Stasch scarcely liked to make him leave the ill-smelling carcass behind, instead of bringing it to Nell.
When they both returned they found a large fire in the bivouac, water boiling in the pots, and the meal being cooked. Nell had put on dry clothing, but she looked so pale and ill that Stasch was startled and took her hand, to make sure whether or not she was feverish.
“Nell, what is the matter?” asked he.
“Nothing, Stasch; I am only very sleepy.”
“I believe it, after such a night! Thank goodness, you have cold hands. Oh, what a night that was! Of course you must be sleepy—I am sleepy, too. But don’t you feel well?”
“I have a slight headache.”
Stasch laid his hand on her forehead. The little head was cold like the hands, but that was a sign of unusual exhaustion and weakness, and so the boy sighed and said:
“You must now have something hot to eat, and then you must lie down and sleep until evening. At least the weather is good to-day, and not likely to be as it was yesterday.”
But Nell gazed at him with terror.
“We surely are not going to spend the night here?”
“Not here, for the mangled horses are lying nearby; we will look for some other tree, or else ride down into the gorge and build a better fence than any in the world. You will sleep as quietly as at Port Said.”
But she folded her tiny hands and with tears in her eyes besought him to ride on at once, for she said that in this awful place it would be impossible for her to close her eyes and she would surely get sick.
She begged so earnestly, and as she looked into his eyes repeated over and over again, “Stasch, please!” that at last he consented to do as she wished.
“Then we will attempt to continue our journey through the gorge,” said he, “for there it is shady. Only promise to tell me when your strength gives out or when you feel weak.”
“It will not come to that! You can bind me to the saddle and I shall have a good sleep.”
“No. I shall ride on the same horse with you. Kali and Mea will ride on the others, and the donkey will carry the tent and the luggage.”
“Good! Good!”
“But as soon as breakfast is over you must take a little nap. Besides, we can not start before noon, as there are many things to be done. The horses must be caught, the tent folded, and the baggage repacked. We shall have to leave some things behind, for we have only two horses left. It will take a few hours to do all these things, and in the meantime you will have a good sleep and feel stronger. It is going to be a very warm day, but under the tree it will be shady.”
“And you—and Mea and Kali? I am so ashamed to be the only one to sleep while you all have so much anxiety——”
“Never mind; after a while we can sleep. Don’t be worried on my account. When in Port Said I frequently, during my examinations, passed entire nights without sleep, but of course my father did not know it. My friends took no rest either. But what a man can stand is of course out of the question for a little fly like you. You have no idea how badly you look to-day—as frail as glass. Your eyes and hair are all that remain, and there is nothing left of your face.”
Although he said this jokingly, in his heart he was frightened, for in broad daylight Nell really looked ill, and for the first time it occurred to him that the poor child, if she continued to look like this, not only might die, but was sure to die. At this thought his knees trembled, for he suddenly felt that in case of her death he would have no reason to live or to return to Port Said.
“For what would there be in life for me?” he continually thought.
He turned away for a minute, so that Nell should not see the look of sadness and fear in his eyes, and then he went to the baggage, which was piled up under the tree, took off the cloth which covered the cartridge-case, opened it, and began to search for something.
It was there, in a little glass phial, that he kept the last quinine powder and guarded it as the apple of his eye for a “dark hour”; that is, in case Nell should take the fever. But now it was almost certain that after such a night the first attack would come on, and so he decided to take precautions against it. This he did with a heavy heart, thinking of what might follow—and if he had not felt the impropriety of a man and leader of a caravan weeping, he would surely have dissolved into tears on parting with his last powder.
In order to hide his emotion he assumed a stern look, turned to the girl, and said:
“Nell, I want you to take the rest of the quinine before you eat.”
“And if you get the fever?” she asked.
“Then I will shake myself. Take it, I say.”
She took it without further resistance; for since he had shot the Sudanese she was a little afraid of him, notwithstanding the attention and kindness he showed her. Then they all sat down to breakfast; and after the toils of the night thoroughly enjoyed a plate of good soup. Nell fell asleep as soon as the meal was finished and slept some hours. Meanwhile Stasch, Kali, and Mea prepared the caravan for the journey, brought the top part of the tent from the ravine, saddled the horses, put the pack on the donkey, and hid under the roots of shrubs everything they were unable to take with them. They were almost overcome with sleep while performing these duties, so Stasch arranged that they should take turns in having a short nap, fearing that otherwise they might go to sleep during the journey.
It was about two o’clock when they set out again. Stasch held Nell in front of him on the saddle and Kali rode with Mea on the second horse. They did not ride straight into the gorge, but kept between its upper side and the forest. The new jungle had grown considerably during this last night of rain, but the ground under the new grass was black and still bore traces of fire. It was easy to surmise that either Smain had passed that way with his men, or that a fire, caused by lightning, had swept over the dried jungle, and, having at last struck the wet forest, had wound itself through the rather narrow course between it and the ravine. Therefore Stasch tried to see whether traces of Smain’s encampment or imprints of his horses’ hoofs could be found on this route, and to his great joy he was convinced that nothing of the kind was to be seen. Kali, who understood such things, insisted that the fire must have been driven there by the wind more than ten days ago.
“That proves,” said Stasch, “that Smain is already heaven knows where with his Mahdists—and that we can not possibly fall into his hands.”
He and Nell now began to look at the vegetation with some curiosity, for they had never been in a tropical forest before. They rode along close to the edge, so as to be in the shade. The ground was damp and soft, and covered with dark green grass, moss, and ferns. Here and there lay old rotten tree-trunks covered with a carpet of beautiful orchids,[17]with cups colored like variegated butterflies in the center of their buds. Wherever the sun shone the earth glittered with other strange tiny orchids,[18]whose two petals, rising from a third petal, remind one of the head of a small animal with pointed ears. In many places the forest consisted of the shrubs of wild jasmine,[19]forming garlands of thin, pink-colored tendrils. The wet paths and crevices were covered with ferns, forming an impenetrable thicket. This underbrush was low in some places, broad in others, and sometimes it grew tall and was encircled by a kind of safflower, which in that case reached to the lowest branches of the tree, giving an effect of fine green lace. In the interior of the woods there were different kinds of trees. Date and bread trees, fan palms, sycamores, large varieties of groundsel, acacias, trees with dark, shining, bright blood-red foliage grew close together, stem to stem, with branches and twigs from which yellow and purple flowers shot forth like torches. In many places the tree-trunks were completely hidden, being covered from head to foot with creepers, which swayed from one branch to the other, forming the capital letters “W” and “M,” and resembling festoons, curtains, or portières. India-rubber lianas[20]nearly smothered the trees with their thousands of tendrils, and turned them into pyramids clothed in white flowers. Small lianas wound themselves round the larger ones, and the jungle was in some places so thickly matted that it almost formed a barrier through which neither human being nor animal could penetrate. Only here and there, in places where elephants, whose strength nothing can withstand, had forced a passage, were there gaps in the thicket, which looked like deep, winding corridors. The song of the birds, which make the European forests so charming, was absolutely lacking. On the other hand, there came from the tops of the trees the most peculiar sounds, resembling at times the sharp scraping of a saw, the hollow beating of pots and pans, the chattering of storks, the squeaking of an old rusty door, the clapping of hands, the mewing of cats, and even the loud and animated conversation of human beings. From time to time a swarm of gray, green, or white parrots or a multitude of colored pepper-eaters, with their gliding, wave-like motion, swung themselves in the trees. On the snow-white background of the india-rubber vines there sometimes crept like forest spirits little monkeys in mourning, perfectly black, with the exception of their white tails, white stripes on their sides, and strange-looking white whiskers encasing their coal-black faces.
The children gazed with admiration and surprise at the forest, which the eyes of a white man had perhaps never seen before. Saba constantly ran under the bushes and barked cheerfully. Little Nell felt strengthened by the quinine, her breakfast, and her sleep. Her little face was fresh and somewhat rosy, and her eyes had a happier expression. Every minute she asked Stasch the names of the various trees and birds, and he answered her as best he could. At last she said that she would like to get off the horse and pick quantities of flowers.
But the boy smiled and said:
“The ‘siafus’ would eat you up in a minute.”
“What’s that—‘siafus’? Is that something worse than a lion?”
“Worse and still not worse. They are ants that bite fearfully. The branches are covered with them, and they fall like a shower of fire from the trees and alight on one’s back. They crawl along the ground, too. If you should try to get off your horse and go into the woods, you would soon begin to hop about and scream like a little monkey. One might more easily protect one’s self from a lion. Sometimes they come in large swarms, and then everything gives way before them.”
“But you could surely prevent them doing you any harm!”
“I? Why certainly I could.”
“How?”
“With fire or boiling water.”
“You always know how to defend yourself,” she said, thoroughly convinced.
Stasch felt very much flattered at these words, and so answered in a cheerful voice:
“If you only keep well you can rely on me for the rest.”
“I have not even a headache now.”
“Thank heaven! Thank heaven!”
During this conversation they were riding on the border of the forest, which was only divided from the narrow pass by a hedge. The sun was still high in the heavens, and its scorching rays beat down on them, for the weather was fine, and there was not a cloud above the horizon. The horses were sweating profusely, and Nell began to complain of the heat. And so Stasch, seeing a suitable place, turned into the gorge, the west side of which was now completely shady. The water still left in the hollows after the storm of the previous day was now fairly cold. Over the heads of the little wanderers there continually flew—from one side of the gorge to the other—pepper-eaters with purple heads, blue breasts, and yellow wings, and the boy began to tell Nell what he had read in books about their habits.
“You know,” he said, “there are pepper-eaters which, in the brooding season, find a cavity in a tree, and the female then carries the eggs there and sets on them, and the male closes the opening with clay so that only the head of the female is visible, and not until the young ones are hatched does he break the wall of clay with his large beak and give the female her liberty again.”
“And what does she have to eat all this time?”
“The male feeds her. He flies about constantly and brings her various kinds of berries.”
“And is she allowed to sleep?” asked Nell in a sleepy voice.
Stasch smiled.
“If Mrs. Pepper-eater is as sleepy as you are, then the male permits her to go to sleep.”
In the coolness of the gorge the girl was suddenly overcome by drowsiness, for her nap that morning had been too short, and she needed more sleep. In fact, Stasch really had a great mind to follow her example, but could not, because he had to hold fast to her for fear she might fall, and besides he was very uncomfortably seated, riding astride on the broad, flat saddle which Hatim and Seki Tamala had made in Fashoda for the little girl. He hardly dared move, and he guided the horse as slowly as possible so as not to wake her up.
And she leaned back, laid her small head on his shoulder, and fell sound asleep. But she breathed so quietly and evenly that Stasch did not regret having given her the last small quinine powder. On hearing her deep breathing he felt that for the present the danger of fever was over, and he began to make the following observations:
“The bed of the gorge leads continually up hill, and just at this particular spot it is rather steep. We have climbed higher and higher, and the ground is much drier than below. We must now search for a high and well-sheltered place near a rapid stream, and settle down there, give the little one a few weeks in which to recover, and perhaps we shall be obliged to wait until the ‘massika’[21]is over. Few girls would have borne up under a tenth part of these trials, and she must take a good rest. After a night such as we have passed through any other girl would have come right down with the fever, but she—how soundly she sleeps! Thank God!”
These thoughts encouraged him, but though he spoke cheerfully to himself while gazing on Nell’s head reposing on his shoulder, he was also surprised at his emotions.
“It really is strange how fond I am of this little one. I have always been fond of her, but now I care more and more.”
And as he did not know how to account for this he reflected as follows:
“This is probably due to the fact that we have undergone so many dangers together, and also because she happens to be in my care.”
While meditating thus he held the child very carefully, with his right hand in her belt, so that she could not fall out of the saddle. They rode on slowly and silently, and Kali whispered in Stasch’s ear these flattering words:
“The Great Man kills Gebhr, kills lion, and buffalo. Yah! Yah! The Great Man will kill many lions. Plenty of meat! Plenty of meat! Yah! Yah!”
“Kali,” asked Stasch softly, “do the Wa-himas hunt lions, too?”
“Wa-hima afraid of lions, but Wa-hima dig deep trenches, and if a lion falls into them during the night, why then Wa-hima laughs.”
“What would you do then?”
“Wa-hima throw many spears until the lion like a porcupine, then drag him out of the trench and eat him. Lion good.” And, as was his custom, he stroked his stomach.
This way of killing lions did not appeal strongly to Stasch, so he began to question Kali as to what other kind of game was to be found in the land of the Wa-hima; and so they talked more about antelopes, ostriches, giraffes, and rhinoceroses until they heard the splashing of a waterfall.
“What’s that?” cried Stasch. “In front of us is a stream and a waterfall, too!”
Kali nodded his head as a sign that it was really so.
For a time they rode on, quickening their pace and listening intently to the rushing of the water, which was heard more distinctly every minute.
“A waterfall!” repeated Stasch, who was much interested. But they had scarcely passed through one or two bends in the gorge when they suddenly perceived an insurmountable obstacle lying across their path.
Nell, who had been lulled to sleep by the regular motion of the horse, awoke at once.
“Are we stopping to put up here for the night?” she asked.
“No; but look!” answered Stasch. “See, a rock is lying across the gorge!”
“What can we do?”
“It is impossible to creep alongside of the rock, for it is very narrow just here, and so we must turn back a little way and try to climb to the top and go around it; but as there are still two hours before night-fall we have plenty of time, and this will give the horses a chance to get their wind. Do you hear the waterfall?”
“I hear it.”
“That’s where we’ll halt for the night.”
He then turned to Kali and ordered him to climb up the side of the narrow pass to see whether the bottom of the gorge was blocked with more obstacles. As for Stasch, he began to inspect the rock very carefully, and after a while he exclaimed:
“It must have broken off and fallen down here very recently. Do you see where it has broken off, Nell? See how fresh the break is. There is not even moss or in fact any other kind of plant to be seen on it. I understand now—I understand!”
And with his hand he pointed to a baobab-tree growing on the side of the ravine, its enormous roots hanging down over the side of the cliff where the rock had broken off.
“This root has forced its way through a crevice between the wall and the rock and has grown so long and so thick that it has split the rock off. That seems strange, for stone is harder than wood, but I do know that such things happen in the mountains. A rock like this, which has scarcely any hold, breaks off at the least jar.”
“But what could have jarred it so?”
“That’s difficult to say. Perhaps a previous storm, perhaps yesterday’s rain.”
Saba had remained behind the caravan, but now he came running up, as if some one were pulling him back by the tail, sniffed, squeezed himself through the small passage between the hedge and the fallen rock, and then immediately began to back out, his hair standing on end.
Stasch dismounted to see what had frightened the dog.
“Stasch, don’t go,” begged Nell; “perhaps there is a lion there.”
But the boy, who loved to boast of his wonderful deeds, and who since the events of the day before had been greatly enraged against lions, answered:
“That’s great! A lion—by day!”
But before he had time to approach the passage Kali’s voice was heard from above the gorge.
“Bwana Kubwa! Bwana Kubwa!”
“What’s the matter?” cried Stasch.
In a moment the negro slid down the stalk of a creeper. It could easily be seen from his face that he was the bearer of some great news.
“An elephant!” he exclaimed.
“An elephant?”
“Yes,” answered the young negro, gesticulating with his hands; “over there rushing water and here cliffs. Elephant can not get out. The Great Man kill elephant and Kali eat him—oh, eat! eat!”
This thought made him so happy that he began to jump around, to smack his lips and slap his knees and to laugh like an idiot, at the same time rolling his eyes and showing his white teeth.
Stasch did not understand at first why Kali said that the elephant could not escape from the gorge, so to make sure of what had happened he mounted his horse, and giving Nell into Mea’s care, so that he could have both hands free in case it were necessary to shoot, he ordered Kali to mount behind him; then they all turned back and began to look for a place where they could climb up. On the way, Stasch asked how the elephant could have got in there, and from Kali’s answer he surmised what had really happened.
Apparently the elephant had sought refuge from the flames during the forest fire, and on his way knocked against the rock, which, being insecure, had fallen down and cut off all means of his return. On running further he had come to the end of the narrow pass and found himself on the edge of the abyss, through which the stream flowed, and was thus hemmed in.
After a short time they discovered a way out of the gorge, but as it was rather steep, it was necessary to dismount and lead the horses. As the negro assured them that the stream was not far off, they continued to walk on until they reached the top. At last they came to a high strip of land, which was bordered on the one side by the stream and on the other by the ravine, and then looking down into the depth, they saw the elephant on the flat ground.
The huge animal lay on its stomach, and Stasch was very much astonished that he did not jump up when he caught sight of them, for, as Saba made a dash for the edge of the narrow pass and began to bark, the beast only moved his enormous ears once, and raising his trunk, immediately let it fall again.
The children held each other’s hands tight, and looked at him a long while in silence, until Kali said:
“He hunger, die.”
In fact, the elephant had become so thin that the whole length of his backbone stood out like a comb; his sides were hollow, and beneath his hide, notwithstanding its thickness, his ribs could be plainly seen, and it was easy to conjecture that the reason he did not get up was because his strength was exhausted.
The gorge, fairly broad at the entrance, changed into a small pocket, closed in on both sides by perpendicular cliffs, at the bottom of which grew a few trees. These trees had been broken off, their bark was torn off and not a leaf remained. Nearly all the vines that had overhung the cliffs had been eaten and the grass throughout the entire pocket had been uprooted and eaten, even to the very last blade.
After Stasch had taken in the whole situation he began to narrate to Nell what he had seen, but as he thought that the huge animal was doomed to die, he spoke very softly, as if afraid of darkening the last hours of his life.
“Yes, he is really dying of hunger. Probably he has been a prisoner here for the last two weeks, since the time when the forest fire burned up the old jungle. He has eaten up everything that was eatable, and now he is being slowly tormented to death, for he can see bread-fruit trees and acacias growing above him, but is unable to reach them.”
And once more they looked down in silence for a while at the elephant, who every now and then turned his small, dying eyes toward them, and each time a sound like a sob escaped from his throat.
“Really,” the boy said, “it would be a mercy to put an end to his suffering.”
At these words he raised the rifle to his shoulder, but Nell caught him by the coat, and standing right in front of him, used all her force to drag him away from the edge of the ravine.
“Stasch, don’t do it! Give him something to eat! He is so thin! I will not let you shoot him! I will not, I will not!”
And stamping still more emphatically with her foot, she continued to pull him away. He looked at her in surprise, but on seeing tears in her eyes, said:
“But, Nell——”
“I will not allow it. I will not let him be killed! If you kill him, I shall get the fever!”
This threat sufficed to make Stasch abandon his murderous intentions in regard to this elephant and others as well. In fact, he remained silent for a while, as he did not know what to answer the child; then he said:
“Well, all right! All right! I tell you, it is all right! Nell! let me go!”
And Nell at once embraced him and a smile shone out of her tear-stained little eyes. Her only care now was to give the elephant some food as soon as possible. Kali and Mea were very much surprised on hearing that “Bwana Kubwa” was not only not going to shoot the elephant, but that they must straightway pick the fruit of the bread-tree, the pods of the acacia, and various herbs, leaves and grass, as much as they could collect. Gebhr’s double-bladed Sudanese sword greatly aided Kali in accomplishing this task, for without it the work would have been by no means easy. But Nell did not want to wait until they had finished, and as soon as the first fruit fell from the breadfruit tree she grasped it with both hands, carried it to the gorge, and repeated quickly to herself, as if afraid that any one else should get there first:
“I! I! I!”
But Stasch had no thought of depriving her of this pleasure; on the contrary, he took hold of her belt, for fear that in her great excitement she might fall over the edge of the cliff together with her bread-fruit, and cried:
“Throw it down!”
The enormous fruit rolled over the steep precipice and fell at the feet of the elephant, who immediately put out his trunk, picked it up and crunched it as if eager to swallow it at once, and it disappeared instantly.
“He has eaten it up!” cried Nell, overjoyed.
“I should say so!” answered Stasch, laughingly.
The elephant now put out his trunk toward them, as if asking for more, and then could be heard his “Hrrumff!”
“He wants more yet!”
“I should think he did!” replied Stasch.
A second fruit now disappeared like the first, followed by a third, fourth—tenth; then in rapid succession he ate acacia-pods, big bundles of grass, and various kinds of leaves. Nell, would not permit any one to replace her, and when at last her little hands became tired, she still pushed more food down to him with her feet. The elephant continued eating, and it was only now and then, between mouthfuls, that he raised his trunk and gave forth a thundering “Hrrumff,” to denote that he wanted more, and, as Nell felt certain, to show his gratitude.
At last Kali and Mea got tired of this work, which they had performed very faithfully, and they silently hoped that “Bwana Kubwa” would fatten the elephant and kill him later. At last “Bwana Kubwa” told them to stop, for the sun had now sunk quite low and it was time to begin the construction of the hedge. Luckily it was not very difficult, for two sides of the three-cornered strips of land were inaccessible, so that only the third one needed to be fenced in, and plenty of acacias with their terrible thorns grew nearby.
Nell did not move an inch from the gorge, and crouching on its edge, with her legs tightly crossed, she informed Stasch, who was some distance away, what the elephant was doing—and her thin little voice continually rang out:
“He is feeling around with his trunk!” or “He is moving his ears. He has enormous ears!”
Then at last: “Stasch! Stasch! He is getting up! Oh!”
Stasch approached quickly and took Nell by the hand. In truth, the elephant had really gotten up, and only now could the children see his enormous size. They had occasionally seen large elephants being taken in ships through the Suez Canal on their way from India to Europe, but not one of them could compare with this colossus in size, for he really looked like a large slate-colored, four-footed rock. He differed from those they had seen in having enormous tusks five feet or more long, and, as Nell had already said, fabulously large ears. His front legs were very long, but comparatively thin, which was probably due to his having fasted so many days.
“Oh, what a Liliputian!” cried Stasch; “if he were to take a good stretch and throw out his trunk to its full length he could catch hold of your little foot.”
But the giant neither thought of stretching himself nor of catching any one by the foot. With uncertain steps he advanced toward the entrance to the gorge and looked for a while down into the ravine, at the bottom of which the waters whirled; then he turned toward the side nearest the waterfall, sat down on his stomach, put out his trunk into the water, dipped it down deep, and began to drink.
“It was lucky for him,” said Stasch, “that he could reach down into the water with his trunk. Otherwise he would have died.”
The elephant drank so long that the girl became alarmed.
“Stasch, will he not harm himself?” said she.
“I don’t know,” he answered smilingly; “but as you have taken him under your special care you should warn him now.”
And so Nell bent over the side and called:
“Enough, dear elephant, enough!”
And the “dear elephant,” as if he understood what was meant, immediately stopped drinking, and at once began to spray himself with the water, first his legs, then his back, and lastly his two sides.
In the meanwhile it began to get dark, and so Stasch guided the little girl back to the hedge, where supper was already awaiting them.
Both children were in the best of humor—Nell, because she had saved the elephant’s life, and Stasch, because he saw her small eyes gleaming like stars and her happy little face looking fresher and healthier than it had since their departure from Khartum. What also added to the satisfaction of the boy was that he had promised himself a quiet and good night’s rest. The strip of land, inaccessible on two sides, ensured them from attack from those directions, and on the third side Kali and Mea had erected such a high hedge out of prickly acacias and branches of passiflora[22]that there was no possibility of any beast of prey being able to break through the barrier. Besides the weather was fine, and soon after sunset the sky was studded with stars. It was very pleasant to be cooled off by being in the proximity of the waterfall, and to breathe the heavy fragrance of the jungle and the freshly broken off branches.
“The ‘fly’ will not get the fever here!” thought Stasch joyfully.
They began to talk about the elephant, for Nell could speak of nothing else, and she continually expressed her admiration for his huge size, his trunk, and his tusks, which really were enormous. At last she said:
“How wise he is, Stasch, isn’t he?”
“As wise as Solomon,” replied Stasch. “But how did you find that out?”
“Because, when I asked him to stop drinking, he immediately complied with my request.”
“If he had never taken lessons in the English language before, and understands what you said to him, then indeed it is quite remarkable.”
Nell perceived that Stasch was making fun of her, so she fondled him like a little kitten, and said:
“Say what you like, but I’m certain that he is very wise, and that he can be readily tamed at once.”
“Whether readily and at once I’m not sure, but he can be tamed. The African elephant is wilder than the Asiatic, but I believe that Hannibal, for instance, used African beasts.”
“Who was Hannibal?”
Stasch looked indulgently and pityingly at her.
“Of course,” he said, “at your age you are not expected to know—Hannibal was a great leader of the Carthaginian army, which used elephants in the war with the Romans, and as Carthage was in Africa, he was obliged to use African elephants.”
The conversation was interrupted by a tremendous trumpeting of the elephant, which, after having satisfied his hunger and thirst, began—either from joy or longing to be free—to signal with his trunk. Saba sat up and began to bark, and Stasch said:
“See what you have done? Now he is calling his friends. A nice story if a whole herd were to approach.”
“He will tell the others that we were good to him,” answered Nell hastily.
But Stasch, who really was not at all worried (because he reckoned that, even if several were to come along, the light of the fire would frighten them away), laughed defiantly and said:
“Well, well! But if elephants should appear, you will not cry for fear; oh, no!—your eyes would only perspire as they have done twice before!”
And he began to imitate her:
“I’m not crying, only my eyes perspire so!”
When Nell saw that he was joking she concluded that they were in no danger.
“If we tame him,” she said, “then my eyes will not perspire any more, even if ten lions should roar.”
“Why?”
“Because he will protect us.”
Stasch quieted Saba, who had continued to bark in answer to the elephant’s trumpeting, then thought a while and continued:
“But, Nell, there is one thing that you did not think of. We shall not stay here forever; we must ride on further. I do not say immediately—on the contrary. This place is very convenient and healthy, so I have decided to remain here one week—perhaps two—for you and I and in fact all of us need a good rest. Well, all right! As long as we stay here we will feed the elephant, although this is an enormous task for us all. He is imprisoned, and we can not take him with us. But how will this end? We shall go away and he will stay here and starve once more, until he succumbs. And of course we will grieve even more than we would now.”
Nell felt very sad, and for a time sat there silently, apparently not knowing what answer to make to these very sensible remarks, but soon she raised her head, and pushing aside the lock of hair which always fell over her forehead into her eyes, she turned her eyes confidently toward the boy.
“I know,” she said, “that you could get him out of the gorge if you only wanted to.”
“Yes?”
But she put out a finger, touched Stasch’s hand, and repeated:
“Yes! Yes! Yes!”
The small and clever little lady knew quite well that the boy would be flattered by her confidence in him and that from now on he would earnestly consider how to release the elephant.
[17]
Auselia Africana.
[18]
Lissohibso.
[19]
Jasminum trifoliatum.
[20]
Landolphia florida.
[21]
The spring rainy season.
[22]
Odenia globosa.
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.