Lamekis

by Charles de Fieux

  All of a sudden a most unexpected miracle snatched me from my murderous fate. A huge bird lifted me into the air. Its rapid flight and the painful way it was holding me opened my eyes. Oh Heavens, I was tossed from one doomed peril into another! I was as high as the sky and it seemed like all the elements were conspiring against me. Oh Sinouis, can you picture me victimized by such ominous events? And we’re not at the end. Really, we’ve barely just begun!

  I crossed an immense space and the bird suddenly swooped down toward some craggy rocks near the sea. How weak and absurd is man! There was no greater risk of falling upon the rocks than over the sea, but I was terribly afraid. At the sight of them my hair stood on end. I was dying a thousand times before I died.266

  The nature of my punishment soon changed. I had no expectations about the kind of death I was destined for. Why not being eaten alive? The bird had snatched me up as food for its babies, but what babies! Sinouis, our cows are not much bigger. They flapped their wings at their mother’s approach and their heads popped out of the nest with open beaks, chirping merrily like the sound of a roaring lion. “So, that’s my waiting grave,” I screamed and howled. “So be it, but I’m ashamed that the Heavens are so openly savage.” As I vomited out these desperate blasphemies, I apparently scared my abductor. Until then I had not opened my mouth. Either I spoke in some strange tongue or my cries had some mysterious influence. Whatever the case, as soon as the words were out of my mouth, the bird dropped me. I was over the nest and fell hard on the little ones who started crowing and cawing.

  It hurt less than I expected. The little eaglets, (for, I had never seen birds of this species and do not know what else to call them), were so fat and soft that their plentiful plumage preserved me from the invasive cold. Instead of devouring me as I presumed, they closed their beaks, lowered their heads and looked at me in such a way that I could tell they were not used to food like me. The fear of being their prey kept me awake for a while, but finally all the fatigue hit me and as I slowly warmed up next to these animals and lay down in their softness, I started dozing off. I did not try to think about the new danger or form a plan or fight against sleep. I surrendered and slept and I never slept so comfortably and peacefully in any bed.

  When I woke up I was fresh as if none of these exhausting experiences had happened. The little eaglets moved to make a more comfortable place for me and I sunk to the bottom of the nest where I got cozy. Now I could think about my present situation and I started believing that the Heavens did not keep me safe through all these harrowing dangers just to kill me. I plucked up courage and thought of how I was going to get out of the refuge, which really was not one for me. I knew that the mother bird would come back and I had to eat something, realizing that it had been a long time and I was worn out.

  I was deep in serious thought when the eaglets started up the same racket as before and I knew the mother bird was on her way back, so I hid as best as I could. Indeed, I saw her through the little logs that made up the structure of the nest and I was as astonished and afraid as I was at the first sight of her. She was unbelievably huge, carrying a sheep in her beak that she tore it to pieces with her claws when she came into the nest and gave to her babies to devour in no time at all.

  Lucky result of wonderful providence! One of the pieces slipped out of a baby’s beak and dropped near me. I was so hungry and it looked so good that I ate it. It was exquisite, really, Sinouis. I had never eaten with such a good appetite.

  When the babies were full, the mother flew off and I watched her until she was out of sight. I popped my head through an opening that I had made in the logs and looked around. I shuddered at my situation. The nest was placed on the peak of a rock that was so high and steep that I could see no way of getting down without dying. On one side the sea washed against the rock and on the other was a chain of mountains whose heights were lost in the clouds.

  My disappointment was beyond compare. Whichever way I turned I saw only death and despair. I started moaning against destiny again (which was also pretty appalling). Patience can last only so long before it degenerates into fury.

  Toward the end of the day, when I was falling asleep, the chirping eaglets warned me of their mother’s return. I looked through my little window and saw two birds in view. I figured the second was the papa eagle. He had a kind of multi-colored crown on his head; he was bigger and glided more majestically. On any other occasion I would have admired them carrying their provisions. The male had a cow, whiter than snow, between its talons and the female a calf. They put them down in the nest and outdid each other tearing the meat to pieces. Oh miracle of divine decrees! I was dying of thirst, Sinouis. It was inevitable that the heat devouring me would do what so many perils had failed to do. But the cow’s udder, full of milk (obviously this was not one of the eagles’ skills), was sliced off completely and lying next to me. I sucked on one of the teats with incomparable relief. This quenched my thirst and I felt so good that I fell back into a priceless sleep.

  I spent a few days leading this extraordinary life because I could not figure out how to escape the bizarre prison. My imagination offered me nothing feasible. Ideas came one after another, each less convincing than the one before, until I finally decided that I could hope for nothing but from the Heavens.

  One day when I was lost in thought, I suddenly heard noises, awful howling, which shook up the nest and almost knocked it down. I trembled in fear and looked through my window. Two birds, different from my hosts, and even bigger, were attacking the nest with incredible violence. It looked like they wanted to knock it down and grab it. The frantic shocks were steadily weakening the bottom of the nest. In spite of their courage, the mother and father were already covered in blood and could not stop one of the eaglets from plummeting toward the rocks below. Without its wings it would probably not survive the fall. My hosts shrieked, little by little giving ground. Pity and gratitude were stirring in the depths of my heart. I decided to do what I could to prevent the destruction of the refuge that had saved my unlucky life. Whatever way I looked at it, it was true that I owed my life to these eagles. With this in mind I tore out a big stick from the nest, stood halfway out of my hiding place, lifted my arm and whacked one of the enemy birds on the head. I hit it so hard that its eyes popped out of its head and it let go of the nest and plummeted down. Its partner was scared but furious. It stood up high, spread its wings, opened its beak and came at me to punish my brashness and eat me. Another blow from my stick broke its foot and one wing (it had ducked its head just in time). It dragged itself back to me and the battle started over again. It was a fight to the finish. I defended myself wildly but skillfully until I got the upper hand so that it could not sustain the fury of my blows. It took flight screeching and squawking away.

  My hosts were astounded by this unexpected help. They looked at me and did not know what to do. Their instinct told them to fly away. The male followed the enemy whom I had just driven off; and the female landed on the ground. I figured that the mother’s love was taking her to look for her fallen eaglet. I was not wrong, but I could not see how she found it. Besides the fact that I was so high up that I could barely make out the objects below, I also lost sight of her, so I looked at other things.

  Up in the clouds I witnessed a sight that would have enchanted me in any other situation. The male eagle had caught up to his adversary and they were fighting in mid-air. As wounded as he was, the enemy defended himself courageously, which made the outcome of the battle, for a little while, uncertain. As a result of my gratitude and indebtedness, I was scared that the eagle would be defeated (without thinking of the danger that his return might put me in), but I rejoiced (without foreseeing the peril, I say) when I saw the adversary fall. The eagle dove down in pursuit, certainly to finish him off and I could see no more. Their distance and my weak eyesight put an end to the spectacle.

  A few moments later I heard the usual sounds of my hosts returning. I went back into my little niche and from my usu
al vantage point I saw the female carrying the eaglet in her talons. It was all banged up and the mother cried out plaintively, which brought the male to her side and together they made a dreadful concert of howls over the baby lying in the nest. The male watched it sadly. Its foot was broken, its neck twisted and it seemed to be at its end. The female went to the other eaglets, took some of their feathers and tried to make a comfortable bed for the injured one. All the productions of nature are admirable.

  I was torn between the desire to heal the eaglet and the fear of being evilly paid for being human. The sad mother was doing all she could to staunch the blood from the injured foot. It was pouring out and steadily weakening the bird. I could not sit still at this touching sight. I poked my head out of the hole and then my arms, hoping to help the sick bird. I was barely all the way out when the parents dropped back and perched on the edge of the nest, stretching their necks and beating their wings while looking at me wide-eyed. Their calmness reassured me. I tore off a piece of my shirt, took a few loose sticks, dried the wound and washed it with my urine. Then I set the bones as best I could by wrapping them all up in bandages. I set the sticks around it so that it would not move and covered it with new bandages to make it as strong and straight as possible.

  After doing this, which was watched by the eagles with inexpressible surprise in their eyes, I looked to see if the eaglet’s neck might not be fixed. With great luck I managed to do it. As soon as it was in place the bird opened its eyes, flapped its wings and asked, in its usual way, to eat. The mother hurried over, also flapped her wings and showed her joy in every way she knew how. I stepped back and she called the male in their language to come and admire the miracle that saved their baby. The result of all of this was to tear off some pieces of meat, grind them in their beaks and each in turn gave me a little. Afterward the mother watched her baby and the father perched on the nest, keeping an eye on all sides.

  I was deep in my niche where I watched everything in strange comfort. In fact, wasn’t my hosts’ gentleness a good omen of a future less cruel for me?

  The male eagle kept watch for a long time and then made a tour of the nest. What a piercing glance! You could compare it to the Father of Light—it penetrated everything. I could not escape it; it stared at me. And my glance made the male more nervous. He started scratching with his feet and clearing out the obstacles between us with his beak. I did not know what to think about this crazy work. I got scared. Could it be, I thought silently, after the service I rendered for him, that he is unthankful enough to devour me? Lovely consequence! As if they had their own way of reasoning. How could I ask for gratitude from these beasts, knowing that it is hard enough to find it among men whose hearts seemed to be better made? There was no comparing them, men would always lose out.

  The closer the work got to me, the more worried I got. I could do nothing else but be on my guard. I grabbed my stick, but what was the use of such a precaution? The friendly animal was only trying to show me his gratitude. In fact, as soon as the path was clear for him to approach, he did so shyly, to reassure me. And I was surprised that when he was next to me he lowered his head to the ground, ruffled his feathers, leaned his neck on my knees and sighed sorrowfully. I petted his plumage as a sign of friendship and believed he understood and responded in his way because he gently flapped his wings like a little hungry bird awaiting it meal. But I was wrong. There was a good, solid reason for everything the eagle had just done. How admirable nature is and what we call instinct is almost reason! The bird was wounded and understood by what I had done to his baby that I could heal him. He had come to ask for my help.

  I understood when petting him. I felt something wet—it was blood from a wound. I did the same thing with bandages as I had done to the eaglet. I took a shred of my clothing and bandaged the wound after sterilizing it and I searched for more. There was a minor cut on his head that did not look serious enough to do anything but lick it. While I was working on the friendly animal, he did not budge, but when I stopped, he got up, stared at me, beat his wings and with the same solemnity as he had come he went back to the female, who had not quit staring at me during the whole operation. It looked like she understood my purpose by the behavior she soon exhibited.

  She and the male spent a little time together, watching me, opening their beaks and singing in a strange way that seemed to mean something. After a few minutes the female got up and came over to me with the same gait as the male. I figured that the visit had the same purpose in view and, indeed, her gullet was hurt. The bandage was harder this time since a beak had taken off a chunk of skin. The wound was wide and I had a great deal of trouble to stop the bleeding. The rest of my shirt was used to bandage it.

  After my care, the female returned to the male and together they tore apart some meat. I did not try to imagine what they were planning. Whenever I think about it now I can’t help laughing. Can you believe, Sinouis, that they both brought me this meat in their beaks? I took it in my hands and ate it to please them. They examined me very carefully and thought that they were doing me a favor, so they brought more. There was enough to feed 30 men, so I got bolder with the friendly animals, gathered up the flesh they left at my feet, stood up and carried it to the eaglets. They took it out of my hands eagerly, as if I was their parent. The male and female watched me wide-eyed, but kindly let me do it, which showed the justice and bounty of their instinct.

  That night we all slept well. At the break of day the two eagles cleaned their nest. That’s what woke me up. They threw the babies’ feces out onto the rocks, as well as the meat and whatever might detract from the cleanliness. When the babies were all plucked and put in a new place, the male and female came to me, cleaned me up with their beaks, arranged my bedding, mended the little logs, firming them up, and then left me free to do as I pleased. For my part, I practiced my new profession as surgeon. I started with the little eaglet. All was going marvelously; the neck was perfectly in place, the foot was no longer bleeding, the thigh was a little swollen, but all told it seemed that my cures were a grand success.

  I put new dressings on the male and female also. It could not have gone better and I thanked the Heavens for that. After everything was taken care of, the male flew away to get the daily provisions, as I soon found out. The female stayed behind, refusing to leave the wounded eaglet. She spent the entire day plucking and petting it in her way. I was not forgotten and if I had feathers, she would have done me the same favor. Lacking that, she nibbled my hands and fingers and sometimes I paid dearly for this favor when she bit a little harder than I could stand.

  A little later the male came back carrying several kinds of animals that I did not recognize. The female and he worked at tearing them apart and giving them to their babies to eat. Having become familiar to my hosts, I shared in the latter chore and what was really amazing was that they took the pieces out of my hand unabashedly, especially the wounded eaglet who chirped happily and flapped its wings. Can you believe, Sinouis, that I became such fast friends with these animals that I almost stopped fretting about being with them? The truth is that I had a dream that made me feel better and imagine a way to get out of this slavery, a way as strange as it was daring. I dreamed that the male eagle brought me back to earth in the same way that I had been taken away. When I woke up I pondered over this: the thing seemed impossible, but maybe it was just a matter of trying. The birds were strong and it was very easy for them to do me this service, as timid as I was to risk it.

  I thought about it for eight days. The horrible thirst I endured was a real torture. I was withering away every minute. If I did not lap up the blood of the animals brought to the nest, I would have died of rage or madness because the gruesome brew, instead of refreshing me, heated me up too much. I was covered in spots and sores and it was not hard for me to see that if this lasted much longer, I would absolutely have to die.

  After battling a long time between hope and fear, I put my foot down and decided to hop on the next trip the mal
e took. I would grab his feet and pull him down to the ground. I had become so friendly with them that he would let me do whatever I wanted. So, after carefully weighing the risks, I found it less dangerous than I had first thought. His feet were so wide that I could stand up on them and if I hugged his two legs like pillars, I would not worry about falling. I tried it right away. It was like it was made on purpose for me and I knew that my project could not fail.

  As soon as my mind was made up, a thought struck me. I was attached to these animals and particularly to my little eaglet to the point that the idea of separation truly saddened me. If devouring thirst were not pressing me I would certainly have waited until the little eaglet I was taking care of was completely healed. Our attachment to each other made me imagine that one day I could use him to fly through the air, that it would be easy for me to train him. He was young and loved me; such a thing seemed feasible. But the cursed thirst decided the affair. I had to drink or die. Besides, the food was not to my liking and I was afraid of becoming totally sick one day or even dying from it. Wasn’t all this natural? Wasn’t I right to make this choice?

  A few days before I got the male eagle used to having me on his feet and the night before my departure, I stuck by him as close as I could around the nest. The next day I did not leave him and when he wanted to fly away on his usual hunt, he tried to get rid of me, but I held on tightly and he took off. When the female realized I was flying away she shrieked and came after us. It was lucky that the giant wings of the eagle acted as a screen. The female stretched out her beak and tried to snatch me, but I kept holding on. After a pretty long flight the male eagle swooped down into a forest where he stopped to drink from a fast-flowing river. I, too, wanted to quench my burning thirst. I got off, knelt down and put my lips to the water. Oh Heavens, what pleasure! I took big gulps of the delicious drink. The male and female watched me very cautiously and looked surprised at what I was doing.