I felt so good next to this wonderful river that I could not dream of leaving. I washed my hands and face and felt so refreshed that I undressed and took a bath. I also thought I should wash my clothes since they had become pretty unsavory, but when I undressed, the eagles, watching all this, moved away and started shrieking horribly. Obviously they thought that my clothes were part of me and that somehow I was shedding my skin and withering away. But they were even more astonished when, after I washed my clothes and let them dry on a rock, they saw me in the river up to my neck. Their shrieking got louder and they flew over my head trying to help me and keep me from drowning. I spoke to them like I did in the past and they seemed reassured that I was still alive. I was too used to them and had studied them too much to be mistaken. These friendly animals loved me and the more they showed it, the harder it was for me to have to leave them.
My plan was to wait until they flew off before I got out of the river because I had good reason to fear that they wanted to snatch me up again. But I waited in vain—the male took off and the female stayed. I could tell by her impatience that she wanted to see me get out of the river. Sometimes she flew over me and at other times she went up to my clothes, stretching out her neck, contemplating them, and then she came back to the river’s edge to keep me in sight.
A little later I heard a noise in the air that signaled the male’s return. I looked up, but was completely flabbergasted. He had the wounded eaglet in his grasp and was bringing it to me. Oh Sinouis, it touched me. I was right in thinking that these friendly animals trusted me to heal their little ones. The mother went off to meet the male as he flew in. I couldn’t bear the sight of it. I got out of the water, got dressed and ran to my hosts who backed away just like the first time they saw me in their nest. But they were happy to see me as I always looked. They beat their wings and twittered and chirped, gathered around, nibbled at me and gave me every sign of true affection they knew.
I responded as best I could, which was usually to scratch their necks. I went back to the river figuring that they would bring the eaglet, which was too big for me to carry. Obviously they understood because they followed me. I took two steps in the water and washed the eaglet’s wounded foot. I could tell by the movements of the talons after the bath that the foot was recovering and the little bird could actually put pressure on it. I got it to drink, which it liked so much it would not stop. The father and mother stretched out their necks and watched everything I did very carefully.
While I was doing everything I thought I should to make the eaglet feel better, I pondered over my next move. If it were possible, I told myself, to escape from the watchful eyes of the parents and save myself with the eaglet, I could use it to travel comfortably and get my revenge on the savage Houcaïs. The idea tickled my imagination, but how could I do it? The eaglet could still not walk and its wings were still too weak to carry me. I had to forget about it. As for the parents, they kept such a close watch that I could not even think of escaping from their omnipresent gaze. When the female left, the male stayed behind and remained by my side until she came back. They took turns like this well into the night and I did not know what to do. I was completely at a loss.
Looking around distractedly like a man in a quandary, I saw a tree pregnant with fruit. I ran to it, found the fruit delicious and ate with an unusual greed. After this charming meal, I spied some shrubbery to my right that was thick enough to give me an idea. If it were possible, I told myself, to reach it and lure the eaglet over, it would be impossible for the parents, because of their size, to enter. I could hide there, raise the little one until it was healed and big enough to carry me and then do whatever I wanted. The idea did not seem too far-fetched, so I tried to put it into action. I headed straight for the shrubs. I do not know if the male was challenging me or if he got fed up with waiting and decided to do something, but he came to me, patted me with his beak, grabbed me in his talons and flew off back to the nest, soon followed by the mother and the eaglet.
I consoled myself with the hope that the opportunity to escape would come again if I wanted. But I was not expecting the diabolical trick that the eagles played on me to keep me there. It was so surprising that I still get bewildered when I think about it. Oh Sinouis, an animal’s instinct is perfect! You’re going to have real, convincing, unimaginable proof of this.
I felt so good after being by the river and so refreshed from the bath that when I got to the nest I fell asleep, long and deep, during which my hosts were busy at the most extraordinary work you can imagine. Would you believe, Sinouis, that when I woke up I found myself in a cage? Thousands of branches were intertwined around the nest to close it up tightly, making it impossible to leave and even more impossible to enter. The work was so solid that there did not seem any way to pull out even the smallest twig. I sat there startled, just staring around. The eagles were perched on a nearby rock, stretching out their necks and watching me carefully.
A moment of quiet reflection calmed the awful worry I was starting to feel. I have been patient, I told myself, until now. Keep it up until my eaglet is strong enough to fly. He knows me and will obey me. When the time comes, I will find a way out of this prison while the eagles are away. If their instincts made them take such strong measures in fear of me leaving them, then they should be more relaxed and therefore less vigilant around me.
That was my hope, anyway, which consoled me. But even though I could not get over the surprise at my present situation and the logical thought these animals displayed, I would soon know more and better that their minds were also full of memory, analysis and foresight.
Toward the end of the day I saw the male carrying back some big branches in its beak. At first I thought it was to reinforce my prison, but I was surprised to see him bring them to me. The branches were full of the same fruits he had seen me eat so greedily by the river. I received the gift kindly. In spite of my cruel situation, I could not help feeling grateful.
The attention did not stop there. The female, who was there when the male came back, returned a little later with a huge shell in her claws. Oh Vilkonhis, was it you who offered me this gift? Or was the animal’s instinct perfected to this point? The big shell was full of water, enough to quench my thirst for several days.
I was in awe of these things when the two eagles shrieked out, lifted a branch that the strength of four men could not have budged, and dove into the nest. I did not know what to think of their unusual alarm, but as I was about to find out it was well founded. Three birds of the species I mentioned earlier appeared in the sky. They were heading straight for the nest and swooped down on it with such a loud, frightening noise that I thought it was going to tip over. My hosts cried out louder and stood tall to resist their powerful enemy. If it weren’t for their lucky precaution, we would all be lost. The terrible birds waged a cruel war. Under the circumstances I did the best I could to fight them off. I took my stick and wore myself out beating and stabbing them, but I did not do much harm to them. However, their feet felt the blows and they were forced to fight in mid-air. Then they tried to stand on the branches, but I forced them off and this tired them out. I saw it and was encouraged.
In fact, they were forced to take a break from their attacks because they could not keep it up. They caught their breath on a nearby rock while my hosts labored to twist back in the branches that were torn out. I was amazed at the skillfulness of their work, but this along with the battle seemed to have worn them out. I saw it in their wings—they could no longer hold them up and I knew it was either exhaustion or sickness in them.
So, afraid that they were in no condition to sustain a second attack I was inspired to give them some water to drink. I brought it to them in my cupped hands and after they tasted it they went to the shell and guzzled it down. They looked as fresh as before the battle. Only language was lacking in these animals—their instinct was perfect. Even the eaglets showed signs of courage and sensibility: they helped in the fight by pecking at the incoming
enemy, which unsettled them and was not a small contribution to make them retreat.
However, the enemy birds had gone off only to catch their breath. They soon came back. But their mighty efforts would have been no more successful than the first time if help had not arrived. Two more similar birds came and tore at the branches with their tremendous beaks while the others were fighting. In no time at all they breached the nest and the fighting became furious. Soon my poor hosts were covered in blood and fighting hopelessly in a battle that all the pens in the world could not do justice to. The most devoted bravery let loose its fury. Seeing myself useless and unable to help my poor hosts, I had to think about saving myself, without, however, really believing that I could. I slipped to the back of the nest, under the poor eaglets and buried myself so that I might, at least, not have to look death in the face when it came for me.
The battle lasted another two hours before the shrieks died down and silence followed. I risked popping my head up and looking around the nest. I saw nothing but my solitary eaglet, wounded and bloody, and the nest all torn up with parts missing. I left my hiding place to examine the battlefield more closely. It was covered in blood and feathers and as I looked around, what grief, or rather despair I felt when I saw the bodies of my dear hosts on a nearby rock, devoured by the enemies in front of me. “Oh Heavens,” I cried frantically, “What is to become of me? Who will take care of me and my dear little eaglet? What miracle will get me down from this steep rock?”
In spite of all the tears I shed, I saw what could happen. I gathered up the plumage and covered the eaglet so that if the enemy returned, they would not take his life and I hid again in my hole until the next day.
The eaglet’s cries startled me awake. He was obviously crying because he was hurt or hungry, so I jumped up to comfort myself with the sight of the dear animal. Alas! What a state he was in! He had lost almost all his blood, his wings were dragging, his beak gaping open and his eyes signaled approaching death. I called him by the name I usually used and he turned his head weakly in my direction. His gaze made me start crying. He was cold; I hugged him and did everything possible to warm him up, only trying to pull him through his lethargy.
After holding him in my arms for a long time and noticing that he was slowly recovering, I examined his wounds. They were not so lethal. I washed and bandaged them as best as I could. When this was done I searched for something to give him to eat. Luckily there were the remains of a cow and a few pieces already torn off. I offered them to him. His greatest pain was hunger and when he smelled the meat he flapped his wings in joy and gobbled it up. His appetite boded well: it proved to me that his lethargy did not spell death. In fact, after three days he regained all his strength and the most comforting thing was that he could put pressure on his hurt foot. The bird was a perfect beauty. He was crowned like his father, his wings were as wide as the eye could see and he looked like it would not take long for him to start voyaging in the skies.
The next day I tried to mount him so that he would gradually get used to it. First I fed him, which softened him up and made him as gentle as a lamb. The supply of fruits that my poor hosts had brought me became a great consolation. I rationed them so that I had enough until the day of departure. It happened 15 days later when I was least expecting it. I had got onto my bird’s neck as usual when all of a sudden he flew off and left the nest. At first I was scared of his choppy flight. Sometimes he carried me into the clouds and then dove down so rapidly that I shook all over. But I did not have to worry. My eaglet was delighted to be on his own, to let the allure of freedom carry him away and he let me know this by staying in the air as long as he could. He would not let up until it got dark when he finally alit on the summit of a mountain.
I dismounted and kissed him. After so much had gone wrong, could I hope for such good luck? With tears in my eyes I thanked the great Vilkonhis to whom I owed it all. In fact, it was a downright miracle and deserved my eternal gratitude and admiration.
If my misfortune had been such that it could be consoled, it would have been just then—I was free after a cruel enslavement. I had my little friend (that was what I called the eaglet), a priceless treasure whose devotion and affection would do what I wanted. The main thing now was to get my revenge on the Houcaïs and find out if Clemelis had taken part in the cruel punishment that I was sentenced to. My little friend had become a vital part of the project and I was thinking up foolproof ways of reaching my goal. Now I just had to find out where I was and how to get to the kingdom of the Abdalles. It was not a difficult task. Examining my surroundings I saw that I was near a big city. It would be easy for me to get information there and take all necessary precautions to accomplish my plan.
I looked around the nearby woods to find a place to spend the night. An abandoned farm on the edge of the forest looked as safe as it was convenient. My little friend and I set up the best we could. I snuggled under one of his wings and was as comfortable and warm as in any bed. But having something of value naturally brought worries. I was awake for a long time brooding over what would happen to my little friend when I went down to the city. There was no place to lock him up, so I decided that I would chain him by his foot to be sure about him from then on, but I did not have a chain and until I got one, I could not figure out what to do with my precious bird. It certainly was not right to take him to the city with me. I was about to lose the only valuable thing I had, which was ever the more dear since it was due to the grandeur of my suffering. This acute anxiety kept me from sleeping so that by the time it was already day, I still had not decided on the best thing to do.
After pestering my imagination again, I gave myself entirely into the arms of Providence. It had guided me so well up to his point that I had no doubt it would finish its work. While waiting I decided to have my little friend take me to a high tower that I spotted. I mounted him and patted his neck, and pushed him with my hand. I directed him straight to the city. It looked large and full of people; the streets were bustling and the people were dressed so oddly that I knew I had to be far from the kingdom of the Abdalles. This upset me. How was I going to find my way back if my language was different from theirs?
Mulling these things over I alit on the tower. As I looked over the city I was surprised at the number of people staring at me. Every minute the crowd grew bigger, like a swarm of bees. I figured I had been spotted in the air and the strange way I landed on the tower was the cause of the public amazement. It was quite simple, but I was not expecting what was coming. The superstitious people went straight from amazement to superstitious worship. They took me for a divinity.267 There was no doubt considering their behavior: some stretched out their arms, others crawled on the ground and almost all of them howled dreadfully. The eaglet, taken aback at the commotion and the crowd, was constantly on the verge of taking flight out of fear. If he were not so obedient to me, I would not have been able to hold him back. He was not used to seeing so many people. Nevertheless, he slowly got used to it.
The inhabitants of the city were not long satisfied with the outward show of veneration that they believed they owed me. They hurried to the tower and instantly the huge crowd surrounded it. The tower had a wide stairway on the outside made of snail shells on which a score of people set off in a peculiar manner268 carrying live animals on the ends of sticks, hopping on one foot and singing a song whose constant refrain was kind of marvelous and crazy. At the sight of them the eaglet stretched out his neck, beat his wings like a baby wanting something to eat and then suddenly flew onto the stairway. I did not know what he was thinking, but I soon found out. He was obviously hungry and seeing the meat sticks, he thought the people were humanely coming to bring him breakfast. He jumped on a sheep carried by two men, lifted it up and let out a cry of joy and hunger. One of the men carrying the stick did not want to let go out of superstition and was carried up with the sheep. At the sight of this everyone shouted, which echoed throughout the city. Indeed the spectacle was quite curious and shou
ld have given a pretty good idea of my power, if I was considered the instigator of what just happened.
The eaglet went to perch on another tower on the other side of the city where he shredded the sheep. The poor fellow, who had been carried off and was holding on in spite of his fear, dropped off and right away fell on the ground started banging his head and talking in a hard, barbarous language269 that I understood by his gestures,270 which punctuated every sentence, to be a fervent prayer. Sometimes he turned to my little friend and addressed a few words to him. But the eaglet paid no attention, munching the sheep with an appetite that reminded me that I, too, would soon be imitating him.
I would really have liked to take advantage of the situation to talk with the native, but knowing that I would not be understood kept me from saying a word. I examined him attentively and was pained by his ignorance. I pitied his excitation as much as the cruel condition that this ridiculous pity reduced him to: his forehead was bleeding from all the marks of respect he was showing me and it was possible that he would crack open his skull if it lasted much longer.
With my humanity always needling me, I was touched and dismounted from my little friend. As soon as the stranger saw me, he lay face down on the ground and thrashed around like he was possessed. I ran to him and did my best to lift him up to stop his convulsions, but I could find no other way except to pull him up by his hair as hard as I could. The eaglet, who was watching and obviously thought the poor man wanted a piece of me, ran over and pecked him 20 times with his beak (which would have taken as many lives if he had them) and then threw him off the tower. If I was in real trouble because of this barbarity, I would have been no less impressed to have such a powerful defender at my side. In fact, right after tossing the native over the edge, he came to me and caressed me in his way, rubbing his beak against my face, nibbling me and then lying down as if inviting me to mount him. I was flattered and answered his intelligently expressed desire. When he felt me on him, he beat his wings in joy and went back to get the rest of his sheep as coolly as if nothing had happened.
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