Complete Works of Henryk Sienkiewicz

by Henryk Sienkiewicz

  “Why are you looking so?” Stas asked. “Do you think that another snake is hiding in the tree?”

  “No, Kali fears Mzimu!”

  “What is a Mzimu?”

  “An evil spirit.”

  “Did you ever in your life see a Mzimu?”

  “No, but Kali has heard the horrible noise which Mzimu makes in the huts of fetish-men.”

  “Nevertheless your fetish-men do not fear him.”

  “The fetish-men know how to exorcise him, and afterwards go to the huts and say that Mzimu is angry; so the negroes bring them bananas, honey, pombe (beer made of sorghum plant), eggs, and meat in order to propitiate the Mzimu.”

  Stas shrugged his shoulders.

  “I see that it is a good thing to be a fetish-man among your people. Perhaps that snake was Mzimu?”

  Kali shook his head.

  “In such case the elephant could not kill the Mzimu, but the Mzimu would kill the elephant. Mzimu is death.”

  Some kind of strange crash and rumble within the tree suddenly interrupted his reply. From the lower aperture there burst out a strange ruddy dust, after which there resounded a second crash, louder than the former one.

  Kali threw himself in the twinkling of an eye upon his face and began to cry shrilly:

  “Aka! Mzimu! Aka! Aka! Aka!”

  Stas at first stepped back, but soon recovered his composure, and when Nell with Mea came running up he began to explain what might have happened.

  “In all probability,” he said, “a whole mass of decayed wood in the interior of the trunk, expanding from the heat, finally tumbled down and buried the burning wood. And he thinks that it was Mzimu. Let Mea, however, pour water a few times through the opening; if the live embers are not extinct for want of air and the decayed wood is kindled, the tree might be consumed by fire.”

  After which, seeing that Kali continued lying down and did not cease repeating with terror, “Aka! Aka!” he took the rifle with which he usually shot at guinea-fowl and, firing into the opening, said, shoving the boy with the barrel:

  “Your Mzimu is killed. Do not fear.”

  And Kali raised his body, but remained on his knees.

  “Oh, great master! great! You do not even fear Mzimu!”

  “Aka! Aka!” exclaimed Stas, mimicking the negro.

  And he began to laugh.

  The negro became calm after a time and when he sat down to partake of the food prepared by Mea, it appeared that the temporary fright had not at all deprived him of his appetite, for besides a portion of smoked meat he consumed the raw liver of the zebra colt, not counting the wild figs, which a sycamore growing in the neighborhood furnished in great abundance. Afterwards with Stas they returned to the tree, about which there was yet a good deal of work to do. The removal of the decayed wood and the ashes, with hundreds of broiled scarabees and centipedes, together with a score of baked bats occupied over two hours’ time. Stas was also surprised that the bats could live in the immediate neighborhood of the snake. He surmised, however, that the gigantic python either despised such trifling game or, not being able to wind himself around anything in the interior of the trunk, could not reach them. The glowing coals, having caused the fall of layers of decayed wood, cleaned out the interior splendidly, and its appearance delighted Stas, for it was as wide as a large room and could have given shelter not merely to four persons, but to ten men. The lower opening formed a doorway and the upper a window, thanks to which in the huge trunk it was neither dark nor stifling. Stas thought of dividing the whole, by means of the tent canvas, into two rooms, of which one was to be assigned to Nell and Mea and the other to himself, Kali, and Saba. The tree was not decayed to the top of the trunk; the rain, therefore, could not leak to the center, but in order to be protected completely, it was sufficient to raise and prop bark above both openings in such manner that it should form two eaves. The bottom of the interior he determined to strew with sand from the river bank which had been grilled by the sun, and to carpet its surface with dry moss.

  The work was really hard, especially for Kali, for he had, in addition, to cure the meat, water the horses, and think of fodder for the elephant who was incessantly trumpeting for it. But the young negro proceeded to work about the new abode with great willingness and even ardor; the reason for this he explained the same day to Stas in the following manner:

  “When the great master and the ‘bibi,’” he said, holding his arms akimbo, “live in the tree, Kali will not have to build big zarebas for the night and he can be idle every night.”

  “Then you like to be idle?” Stas asked.

  “Kali is a man, so Kali loves to be idle, as only women ought to work.”

  “But you see, however, that I work for the ‘bibi.’”

  “But because when the ‘bibi’ grows up she will have to work for the great master, and, if she does not want to, the great master will whip her.”

  But Stas, at the very thought of whipping the “bibi,” jumped as if scalded and shouted in anger:

  “Fool, do you know who the ‘bibi’ is?”

  “I do not,” replied the black boy with fear.

  “Bibi — is — is — a good Mzimu.”

  And Kali cowered.

  After finishing his work he approached Nell bashfully; then he fell on his face and began to repeat, not indeed in a terror-stricken, but in an entreating voice:

  “Aka! Aka! Aka!”

  And the “Good Mzimu” stared at him, with her beautiful, sea-green eyes wide open, not understanding what had happened nor what was the matter with Kali.

  VII

  The new abode, which Stas named “Cracow,” was completed in the course of three days. But before that time the principal luggage was deposited in the “men’s quarters” and during great downpours the young quartette staid in the gigantic trunk, perfectly sheltered. The rainy season began in earnest but it was not one of our long autumn rains during which the heavens are heavy with dark clouds and the tedious, vexatious bad weather lasts for weeks. There, about a dozen times during the day, the wind drives over the sky the swollen clouds, which water the earth copiously, after which the sun shines brightly, as if freshly bathed, and floods with a golden luster the rocks, the river, the trees, and the entire jungle. The grass grew almost before their eyes. The trees were clad with more abundant leaves, and, before the old fruit fell, buds of the new germinated. The air, owing to the tiny drops of water suspended in it, grew so transparent that even distant objects became entirely distinct and the view extended into the immeasurably far expanse. On the sky hung charming, seven-colored rainbows and the waterfall was almost continually attired with them. The brief dawn and twilight played with thousands of lights of such brilliance that the children had not seen anything like it, even on the Libyan Desert. The lower clouds, those nearest the earth, were dyed cherry-colored, the upper, better illuminated, overflowed in the shape of a lake of purple and gold, and the tiny woolly cloudlets changed colors like rubies, amethysts, and opals. During the night time, between one downpour of rain and another, the moon transformed into diamonds the drops of dew which clung on the mimosa and acacia leaves, and the zodiacal light shone in the refreshed transparent air more brightly than at any other season of the year.

  From the overflow which the river formed below the waterfall came the uneasy croaking of frogs and the doleful piping of toads, and fireflies, resembling shooting stars, flew from bank to bank amid the clumps of bamboo and arum.

  But when clouds covered the starry heaven and the rain began to fall it became very dusky and the interior of the baobab tree was as dark as in a cellar. Desiring to avoid this, Stas ordered Mea to melt the fat of the killed game and make a lamp of a small plate, which he placed beneath the upper opening, which was called a window by the children. The light from this window, visible from a distance in the darkness, drove away the wild animals, but on the other hand attracted bats and even birds so much that Kali finally was compelled to construct in the opening somethi
ng in the nature of a screen of thorns similar to the one with which he closed the lower opening for the night.

  However, in daytime, during fair weather, the children left “Cracow” and strolled over the promontory. Stas started after antelope-ariels and ostriches, of which numerous flocks appeared near the river below, while Nell went to her elephant, who in the beginning trumpeted only for food and later trumpeted when he felt lonesome without his little friend. He always greeted her with sheer delight and pricked his enormous ears as soon as he heard from the distance her voice or her footsteps.

  Once, when Stas went hunting and Kali angled for fish beyond the waterfall, Nell decided to go to the rock which closed the ravine, to see whether Stas had done anything about its removal. Mea, occupied with preparations for dinner, did not observe her departure; while on the way, the little maid, gathering flowers, particularly begonia which grew abundantly in the rocky clefts, approached the declivity by which they at one time left the ravine and descending found herself near the rock. The great stone, detached from its native walls, obstructed the ravine as it had previously done. Nell, however, noticed that between the rock and the wall there was a passage so wide that even a grown-up person could pass through it with ease. For a while she hesitated, then she went in and found herself on the other side. But there was a bend there, which it was necessary to pass in order to reach the wide egress of the locked-in waterfall. Nell began to meditate. “I will go yet a little farther. I will peer from behind the rocks; I will take just one look at the elephant who will not see me at all, and I will return.” Thus meditating, she advanced step by step farther and farther, until finally she reached a place where the ravine widened suddenly into a small dell and she saw the elephant. He stood with his back turned towards her, with trunk immersed in the waterfall, and drank. This emboldened her, so pressing closely to the wall, she advanced a few steps, and a few more yet, and then the huge beast, desiring to splash his sides, turned his head, saw the little maid, and, beholding her, moved at once towards her.

  Nell became very much frightened, but as there was no time now for retreat, pressing knee to knee, she curtsied to the elephant as best she could; after which she stretched out her little hand with the begonias and spoke in a slightly quivering voice.

  “Good day, dear elephant. I know you won’t harm me; so I came to say good day — and I have only these flowers—”

  And the colossus approached, stretched out his trunk, and picked the bunch of begonias out of Nell’s little fingers, and putting them into his mouth he dropped them at once as evidently neither the rough leaves nor the flowers were to his taste. Nell now saw above her the trunk like a huge black snake which stretched and bent; it touched one of her little hands and then the other; afterwards both shoulders and finally descending it began to swing gently to and fro.

  “I knew that you would not harm me,” the little girl repeated, though fear did not leave her.

  Meanwhile the elephant drew back his fabulous ears, winding and unwinding alternately his trunk and gurgling joyfully as he always gurgled when the little girl approached the brink of the ravine.

  And as at one time Stas and the lion, so now these two stood opposite each other — he, an enormity, resembling a house or a rock, and she a mite whom he could crush with one motion, not indeed in rage but through inadvertence.

  But the good and prudent animal did not make angry or inadvertent motions, but evidently was pleased and happy at the arrival of the little guest.

  Nell gained courage gradually and finally raised her eyes upwards and, looking as though onto a high roof she asked timidly, raising her little hand:

  “May I stroke your trunk?”

  The elephant did not, indeed, understand English, but from the motion of her hand discerned at once what she wanted and shoved under her palm the end of his trunk, which was over two yards in length.

  Nell began to stroke the trunk; at first carefully with one hand, afterwards with both, and finally embraced it with both arms and hugged it with perfectly childish trust.

  The elephant stepped from one foot to the other and continually gurgled from joy.

  After a while he wound the diminutive body of the girl with his trunk and, lifting her up, began to swing her lightly right and left.

  “More! More!” cried Nell, intensely amused.

  And the play lasted quite a long time and afterwards the little girl, now entirely bold, invented a new one.

  Finding herself on the ground, she tried to climb on the elephant’s fore legs, as on a tree, or, hiding behind them, she asked whether he could find her. But at these frolics she observed one thing, namely, that numerous thorns were stuck in his hind legs; from these the powerful beast could not free himself, first because he could not conveniently reach his hind legs with his trunk, and again because he evidently feared to wound the finger with which the trunk ended and without which he would lose his skill and cleverness. Nell was not at all aware that such thorns in the feet are a real plague to elephants in India and still more in the African jungles composed mainly of thorny plants. As, however, she felt sorry for the honest giant, without any thought, having squatted near his foot, she began to extract delicately at first the bigger splinters and afterwards the smaller, at which work she did not cease to babble and assure the elephant that she would not leave a single one. He understood excellently what she was concerned with, and bending his legs at the knee showed in this manner that on the soles between the hoofs covering his toes there were also thorns which caused him still greater pain.

  In the meantime Stas came from the hunt and at once asked Mea where the little lady was. Receiving a reply that she undoubtedly was in the tree, he was about to enter the interior of the baobab tree when at that moment it seemed to him that he heard Nell’s voice in the depth of the ravine. Not believing his own ears, he rushed at once to the edge and, glancing down, was astounded. The little girl sat near the foot of the colossus which stood so quietly that if he did not move the trunk and ears, one would think that he was hewed out of stone.

  “Nell!” Stas shouted.

  And she, engaged with her work, answered merrily:

  “At once! At once!”

  To this the boy, who was not accustomed to hesitate in the presence of danger, lifted his rifle with one hand in the air and with the other grabbed a dry liana stalk, which was stripped of its bark, and, winding his legs about it, slid to the bottom of the ravine.

  The elephant moved his ears uneasily, but at that moment Nell rose and, hugging his trunk, cried hurriedly:

  “Don’t be afraid, elephant! That is Stas.”

  Stas perceived at once that she was in no danger, but his legs yet trembled under him, his heart palpitated violently, and before he recovered from the sensation, he began to speak in a choking voice, full of grief and anger:

  “Nell! Nell! How could you do this?”

  And she began to explain that she did not do anything wrong, for the elephant was good and was already entirely tamed; that she wanted to take only one look at him and return, but he stopped her and began to play with her, that he swung her very carefully, and if Stas wanted he would swing him also.

  Saying this, she took hold of the end of the trunk with one hand and drew it to Stas, while she waved the other hand right and left, saying at the same time to the elephant:

  “Elephant! Swing Stas also.”

  The wise animal surmised from her gesture what she wanted of him, and Stas, caught by the belt of his trousers, in one moment found himself in mid-air. In this there was such a strange and amusing contrast between his still angry mien and this rocking above the earth that the little “Mzimu” began to laugh until the tears came, clapping all the time her hands and shouting as before:

  “More! More!”

  And as it is impossible to preserve an appropriate dignity and deliver a lecture on deportment at a time when one is suspended from the end of an elephant’s trunk and involuntarily goes through the motions of a
pendulum, the boy in the end began to laugh also. But after a certain time, noticing that the motions of the trunk were slackening and the elephant intended to deposit him on the ground, a new idea unexpectedly occurred to him, and, taking advantage of the moment at which he found himself close to the prodigious ear, he grabbed it with both hands and in the twinkling of an eye climbed over it onto the head and sat on the elephant’s neck.

  “Aha!” he exclaimed from above to Nell; “let him understand that he must obey me.”

  And he began to stroke the elephant’s head with his palm with the mien of a ruler and master.

  “Good!” cried Nell from below, “but how will you get down now?”

  “That is small trouble,” Stas answered.

  And slinging his legs over the elephant’s forehead, he entwined the trunk with them and slid over it as if down a tree.

  “That is how I come down.”

  After which both began to pick out the rest of the thorns from the legs of the elephant who submitted with the greatest patience.

  In the meantime the first drops of rain fell; so Stas decided to escort Nell to “Cracow”; but here an unexpected obstacle presented itself. The elephant did not want to part from her and every time she attempted to go away he turned her about with his trunk and drew her towards him. The situation became disagreeable, and the merry play in view of the stubbornness of the elephant might have ended unfortunately. The boy did not know what to do as the rain became each moment heavier and a downpour threatened them. Both withdrew, indeed, somewhat towards the egress, but gradually, and the elephant followed them.