Finally Stas stood between him and Nell. He fixed his gaze upon the elephant’s eyes and at the same time said to Nell in an undertone:
“Don’t run, but continually draw back to the narrow passageway.”
“And you, Stas?” the little maid asked.
“Draw back!” repeated Stas with emphasis, “otherwise I shall have to shoot the elephant.”
The little maid, under the influence of this threat, obeyed the command; the more so as, having already unbounded confidence in the elephant, she was sure that under no circumstances would he do any harm to Stas.
But the boy stood about four paces from the giant, not removing his eyes from him for a moment.
In this manner a few minutes passed; a moment full of danger followed. The ears of the elephant moved a score of times, his little eyes glittered strangely, and suddenly his trunk was raised.
Stas felt that he was turning pale.
“Death!” he thought.
But the colossus turned his trunk unexpectedly toward the brink where he was accustomed to see Nell and began to trumpet more mournfully than he had ever done before.
Stas went peacefully to the passageway and behind the rock found Nell, who did not want to return to the tree without him.
The boy had an uncontrollable desire to say to her: “See what you have done! On account of you I might have been killed.” But there was no time for reproof as the rain changed into a downpour and it was necessary to return as quickly as possible. Nell was drenched to the skin though Stas wrapped her in his clothing.
In the interior of the tree he ordered the negress to change Nell’s dress while he himself unleashed Saba, whom previously he had tied from fear that in following his tracks he might scare away the game; afterwards he began to ransack all the clothing and luggage in the hope that he might find some overlooked pinch of quinine.
But he did not find anything. Only at the bottom of the small gallipot which the missionary had given him in Khartûm there lay a little white powder which would scarcely suffice for whitening the tip of a finger. He nevertheless determined to fill the gallipot with hot water and give this gargle to Nell to drink.
Then when the downpour had passed away and the sun began to shine again, he left the tree to look at the fish which Kali had brought. The negro had caught about twenty upon a line of thin wire. Most of them were small, but there were three about a foot long, silver speckled and surprisingly light. Mea, who was bred upon the banks of the Blue Nile, was conversant with these fishes; she said that they were good to eat and towards evening they leap very high above the water. In fact, at the scaling and cleaning of the first it appeared that they were so light because they had big air bladders. Stas took one of them about the size of an apple and brought it to show to Nell.
“Look!” he said. “This was in the fish. We could make a pane for our window from about a dozen of these.”
And he pointed at the upper opening in the tree.
But reflecting for a time he added:
“And even something more.”
“What is it?” asked Nell.
“A kite.”
“Such as you used to send up in Port Said? Oh good! Do.”
“I will. With thin, cut pieces of bamboo I will make a frame and I will use these membranes instead of paper for they are lighter and the rain will not soak them. Such a kite will go away up in the air and with a powerful wind will fly the Lord knows where—”
Here he suddenly struck his forehead.
“I have an idea.”
“What is it?”
“You shall see. As soon as I figure it out better, I will tell you. Now that elephant of yours is making such a racket that one cannot even talk.”
Indeed, the elephant, from longing for Nell, and perhaps for both children, trumpeted so that the whole ravine shook, together with the adjacent trees.
“We must show ourselves to him,” Nell said. “That will quiet him.”
And they strolled to the ravine. But Stas, entirely absorbed in his thoughts, began in an undertone to say:
“‘Nelly Rawlinson and Stanislas Tarkowski of Port Said, having escaped from the dervishes in Fashoda, are at—’”
And stopping abruptly, he asked:
“How to designate the place?”
“What, Stas?”
“Nothing, nothing. I already know,— ‘are about a month’s journey west of the Blue Nile and beg for immediate aid.’ When the wind blows to the north or to the west I will send twenty, fifty, a hundred of such kites and you, Nell, shall help me to paste them.”
“Kites?”
“Yes, and I tell you that they can be of greater service to us than ten elephants.”
In the meantime they reached the brink. And now began the shuffling of the elephant’s feet, the nodding, the movements of the ears, the gurgling, and again the mournful trumpeting when Nell attempted to retire even for a moment. In the end the little maid began to explain to the “dear elephant” that she could not be with him all the time, for, of course, she had to sleep, eat, work, and keep house in “Cracow.” But he became quiet only when she shoved down to him with a pitchfork provisions prepared by Kali; at night he again began to trumpet.
The children that same evening named him “The King,” as Nell was sure that before he got caught in the ravine he undoubtedly was the king of all the elephants in Africa.
VIII
During the few days following Nell passed all the moments during which the rain did not fall with the King, who did not oppose her departure, having understood that the little maiden would return a few times daily. Kali, who as a rule feared elephants, gazed at this one with amazement but in the end came to the conclusion that the mighty, “Good Mzimu” had bewitched the giant, so he began to visit him also.
The King was well disposed in his behavior towards Kali as well as towards Mea, but Nell alone could do with him whatever she pleased, so that after a week she ventured even to bring Saba to him. For Stas this was a great relief as he could with perfect peace leave Nell under the protection, or, as he expressed it, “under the trunk of the elephant,” and without any fear he went hunting and even at times took Kali with him. He was certain now that the noble animal would not desert them under any circumstances and began to consider how to free him from his confinement.
And to speak properly, he long ago had discovered a way, but it required such sacrifices that he wrestled with his thoughts as to whether he would use it and afterwards postponed doing it from day to day. As he had no one to speak to about this, he finally decided to acquaint Nell with his intentions, though he regarded her as a mere child.
“The rock can be blasted with powder, but for that it is necessary to spoil a great number of cartridges; that is, to extract the bullets, pour out the powder, and make one big charge out of it all. Such a charge I will insert in the deepest fissure which I can find in the middle; afterwards I will plug it and light a fire. Then the rock will burst into a few or even a score of pieces and we can lead the King out.”
“But if there is a great explosion, will he not get scared?”
“Let him get scared,” answered Stas quickly. “That bothers me the least. Really, it is not worth while to talk to you seriously.”
Nevertheless he continued, or rather thought aloud:
“But if I do not use enough cartridges the rock will not burst and I shall waste them in vain; if I use a sufficient number, then not many will remain. And if I should be in want of them before the end of the journey, death clearly threatens us. For with what will I hunt, with what will I defend you in case of an attack? You well know, of course, that if it were not for this rifle and the cartridges we would have perished long ago, either at Gebhr’s hands or from starvation. And it is very fortunate too that we have horses for without them we could not have carried all these things and the cartridges.”
At this Nell raised her finger and declared with great positiveness:
“When I tell the K
ing, he will carry everything.”
“How will he carry the cartridges, if very few of them remain?”
“As to that, he will defend us.”
“But he won’t fire from his trunk as I do from the rifle.”
“Then we can eat figs and big gourds which grow on the trees, and Kali will catch fish.”
“That is, as long as we stay near the river. We still have to pass the rainy season here, as these continual downpours would surely prostrate you with the fever. Remember, however, that later we shall start upon a further journey and we might chance upon a desert.”
“Such as Sahara?” Nell asked in alarm.
“No; one where there are neither rivers, nor fruit-trees, and only low acacias and mimosas grow. There one can live only upon what is secured by hunting. The King will find grass there and I antelopes, but if I do not have anything to shoot them with, then the King will not catch them.”
And Stas, in reality, had something to worry about, as by that time, when the elephant was already tamed and had become friendly it was impossible to abandon him and doom him to death by starvation; and to liberate him meant the loss of a greater portion of the ammunition and exposing themselves to unavoidable destruction.
So Stas postponed the work from day to day, repeating to himself in his soul each evening:
“Perhaps to-morrow I may devise some other scheme”.
In the meantime to this trouble others were added. At first Kali was stung at the river below by wild bees to which he was led by a small gray-greenish bird, well-known in Africa and called bee-guide. The black boy, through indolence, did not smoke out the bees sufficiently and returned with honey, but so badly stung and swollen that an hour later he lost all consciousness. The “Good Mzimu,” with Mea’s aid, extracted stings from him until night and afterwards plastered him with earth upon which Stas poured water. Nevertheless, towards morning it seemed as if the poor negro were dying. Fortunately, the nursing and his strong constitution overcame the danger; he did not, however, recover his health until the lapse of ten days.
The second mishap was met by the horses. Stas, who during Kali’s sickness had to fetter the horses and lead them to water, observed that they began to grow terribly lean. This could not be explained by a lack of fodder as in consequence of the rains grass shot up high and there was excellent pasturage near the ford. And yet the horses wasted away. After a few days their hair bristled, their eyes became languid, and from their nostrils a thick slime flowed. In the end they ceased to eat and instead drank eagerly, as if fever consumed them. When Kali regained his health they were merely two skeletons. But he only glanced at them and understood at once what had happened.
“Tsetse!” he said, addressing Stas. “They must die.”
Stas also understood, for while in Port Said he had often heard of the African fly, called “tsetse,” which is such a terrible plague in some regions that wherever it has its permanent habitat the negroes do not possess any cattle at all, and wherever, as a result of temporary favorable conditions it multiplies unexpectedly, cattle perish. A horse, ox, or donkey bitten by a tsetse wastes and dies in the course of a fortnight or even in a few days. The local animals understand the danger which threatens them, for it happens that whole herds of oxen, when they hear its hum near a waterfall, are thrown into a wild stampede and scamper in all directions.
Stas’ horses were bitten; these horses and the donkey Kali now rubbed daily with some kind of plant, the odor of which resembled that of onions and which he found in the jungles. He said that the odor would drive away the tsetse, but notwithstanding this preventative remedy the horses grew thinner. Stas, with dread, thought of what might happen if all the animals should succumb; how then could he convey Nell, the saddle-cloth, the tent, the cartridges and the utensils? There was so much of them that only the King could carry them all. But to liberate the King it was necessary to sacrifice at least two-thirds of the cartridges.
Ever-increasing troubles gathered over Stas’ head like the clouds which did not cease to water the jungle with rain. Finally came the greatest calamity, in the presence of which all the others dwindled — fever!
IX
One night at supper Nell, having raised a piece of smoked meat to her lips, suddenly pushed it away, as if with loathing, and said:
“I cannot eat to-day.”
Stas, who had learned from Kali where the bees were and had smoked them out daily in order to get their honey, was certain that the little one had eaten during the day too much honey, and for that reason he did not pay any attention to her lack of appetite. But she after a while rose and began to walk hurriedly about the camp-fire describing an ever larger circle.
“Do not get away too far, for something might seize you,” the boy shouted at her.
He really, however, did not fear anything, for the elephant’s presence, which the wild animals scented, and his trumpeting, which reached their vigilant ears, held them at a respectable distance. It assured safety alike to the people and to the horses, for the most ferocious beasts of prey in the jungle, the lion, the panther, and the leopard, prefer to have nothing to do with an elephant and not to approach too near his tusks and trunk.
Nevertheless, when the little maid continued to run around, more and more hurriedly, Stas followed her and asked:
“Say, little moth! Why are you flying like that about the fire?”
He asked still jestingly, but really was uneasy and his uneasiness increased when Nell answered:
“I don’t know. I can’t sit down in any place.”
“What is the matter with you?”
“I feel so strangely—”
And then suddenly she rested her head on his bosom and as though confessing a fault, exclaimed in a meek voice, broken by sobs:
“Stas, perhaps I am sick—”
“Nell!”
Then he placed his palm upon her forehead which was dry and icy. So he took her in his arms and carried her to the camp-fire.
“Are you cold?” he asked on the way.
“Cold and hot, but more cold—”
In fact her little teeth chattered and chills continually shook her body. Stas now did not have the slightest doubt that she had a fever.
He at once ordered Mea to conduct her to the tree, undress her and place her on the ground, and afterwards to cover her with whatever she could find, for he had seen in Khartûm and Fashoda that fever-stricken people were covered with sheeps’ hide in order to perspire freely. He determined to sit at Nell’s side the whole night and give her hot water with honey to drink. But she in the beginning did not want to drink. By the light of the little lamp hung in the interior of the tree he observed her glittering eyes. After a while she began to complain of the heat and at the same time shook under the saddle-cloth and plaids. Her hands and forehead continued cold, but had Stas known anything about febrile disorders, he would have seen by her extraordinary restlessness that she must have a terrible fever. With fear he observed that when Mea entered with hot water the little girl gazed at her as though with a certain amazement and even fear and did not seem to recognize her. With him she spoke consciously. She said to him that she could not lie down and begged him to permit her to rise and run about; then again she asked whether he was not angry at her because she was sick, and when he assured her that he was not, her eyelashes were suffused with the tears which surged to her eyes, and she assured him that on the morrow she would be entirely well.
That evening, or that night, the elephant was somehow strangely disturbed and continually trumpeted so as to awake Saba and cause him to bark. Stas observed that this irritated the patient; so he left the tree to quiet them. He silenced Saba easily, but as it was a harder matter to bid the elephant to be silent, he took with him a few melons to throw to him, and stuff his trunk at least for a time. Returning, he observed, by the light of the camp-fire, Kali who, with a piece of smoked meat on his shoulders, was going in the direction of the river.
“What are you
doing there, and where are you going?” he asked the negro.
And the black boy stopped, and when Stas drew near to him said with a mysterious countenance:
“Kali is going to another tree to place meat for the wicked Mzimu.”
“Why?”
“That the wicked Mzimu should not kill the ‘Good Mzimu.’”
Stas wanted to say something in reply, but suddenly grief seized his bosom; so he only set his teeth and walked away in silence.
When he returned to the tree Nell’s eyes were closed, her hands, lying on the saddle-cloth, quivered indeed strongly, but it seemed that she was slumbering. Stas sat down near her, and from fear of waking her he sat motionless. Mea, sitting on the other side, readjusted every little while pieces of ivory protruding out of her ears, in order to defend herself in this manner from drowsiness. It became still; only from the river below, from the direction of the overflow, came the croaking of frogs and the melancholy piping of toads.
Suddenly Nell sat up on the bedding.
“Stas!”
“I am here, Nell.”
And she, shaking like a leaf in the breeze, began to seek his hands and repeat hurriedly:
“I am afraid! I am afraid! Give me your hand!”
“Don’t fear. I am with you.”
And he grasped her palm which this time was heated as if on fire; not knowing what to do he began to cover that poor, emaciated hand with kisses.
“Don’t be afraid, Nell! don’t be afraid!”
After which he gave her water with honey to drink, which by that time had cooled. This time Nell drank eagerly and clung to the hand with the utensil when he tried to take it away from her lips. The cool drink seemed to soothe her.
Complete Works of Henryk Sienkiewicz Page 639