That very same day Nell led the King “out into the world.” The colossus followed her obediently, like a little puppy, and afterwards bathed in the river, and alone secured his supper in this singular manner: bracing his head against a big sycamore tree, he broke it like a feeble reed and afterwards carefully nibbled the fruit and the leaves.
Towards evening he returned, however, to the tree, and shoving, every little while, his enormous nose through an opening, sought for Nell so zealously and persistently that Stas finally was compelled to give his trunk a sound smack.
Kali, however, was the most overjoyed with the result of that day, for upon his shoulders had fallen the work of gathering provisions for the giant, which was by no means an easy task. So then Stas and Nell heard him, while lighting the fire for supper, sing a new hymn of joy, composed of the following words:
“The great master kills men and lions. Yah! Yah! The great master crushes rocks. Yah! Yah! The elephant, himself, breaks trees and Kali can be idle and eat. Yah! Yah!”
The rainy season, or the so-called “massica,” was drawing to an end. There were yet cloudy and rainy days, but there were also days entirely clear. Stas decided to remove to the mountain indicated to him by Linde, and this purpose he carried out soon after the King’s liberation. Nell’s health did not present any obstacles now, as she felt decidedly better.
Selecting, therefore, a clear day, they started at noon. They were not afraid now that they would stray, as the boy had inherited from Linde, among various articles, a compass and an excellent field-glass, through which it was easy to descry distant localities. Besides Saba and the donkey they were accompanied by five pack-horses and the elephant. The latter, besides the luggage on his back, on his neck bore Nell, who between his two enormous ears looked as though she were sitting in a big arm-chair. Stas without regret abandoned the promontory and the baobab tree, for it was associated with the recollection of Nell’s illness. On the other hand, the little girl gazed with sad eyes at the rocks, at the trees, at the waterfall, and announced that she would return there when she should be “big.”
Sadder still was little Nasibu, who had loved sincerely his former master, and, at present riding on the donkey in the rear, he turned around every little while and looked with tears in his eyes towards the place where poor Linde would remain until the day of the great judgment.
The wind blew from the north and the day was unusually cool. Thanks to this they did not have to stop and wait from ten to three, until the greatest heat was over, and they could travel a longer distance than is customary with caravans. The road was not long, and a few hours before sunset Stas espied the mountain towards which they were bound. In the distance on the background of the sky was outlined a long chain of other peaks, and this mountain rose nearer and lonely, like an island in a jungle sea. When they rode closer it appeared that its steep sides were washed by a loop of the river near which they previously had settled. The top was perfectly flat, and seen from below appeared to be covered by one dense forest. Stas computed that since the promontory, on which their baobab tree grew, was about twenty-three hundred feet high and the mountain about twenty-six hundred feet, they would dwell at an elevation of about forty-nine hundred feet and in a climate not much warmer, therefore, than that of Egypt. This thought encouraged him and urged him to take possession of this natural fortress as quickly as possible.
They easily found the only rocky ridge which led to it and began the ascent. After the lapse of half an hour they stood on the summit. That forest seen from below was really a forest — but of bananas. The sight of them delighted all exceedingly, not excepting the King, and Stas was particularly pleased, for he knew that there is not in Africa a more nourishing and healthy food nor a better preventative of all ailments than the flour of dried banana fruit. There were so many of them that they would suffice even for a year.
Amidst the immense leaves of these plants was hidden the negro village; most of the huts had been burned or ruined at the time of the attack, but some were still whole. In the center stood the largest, belonging at one time to the king of the village; it was prettily made of clay, with a wide roof forming around the walls a sort of veranda. Before the huts lay here and there human bones and skeletons, white as chalk, for they had been cleaned by the ants of whose invasion Linde spoke. From the time of the invasion many weeks had already elapsed; nevertheless, in the huts could be smelt the leaven of ants, and one could find in them neither the big black cock-roaches, which usually swarm in all negro hovels, nor spiders nor scorpions nor the smallest of insects.
Everything had been cleaned out by the terrible “siafu.” It was also a certainty that there was not on the whole mountain-top a single snake, as even boas fall prey to these invincible little warriors.
After conducting Nell and Mea into the chief’s hut, Stas ordered Kali and Nasibu to remove the human bones. The black boys carried out this order by flinging them into the river, which carried them farther. While thus employed, however, they found that Linde was mistaken in declaring that they would not find a living creature on the mountain. The silence which reigned after the seizure of the people by the dervishes and the sight of the bananas had allured a great number of chimpanzees which built for themselves, on the loftier trees, something like umbrellas or roofs, for protection against rain. Stas did not want to kill them, but decided to drive them away, and with this object in view he fired a shot into the air. This produced a general panic, which increased still more when after the shot Saba’s furious bass barking resounded, and the King, incited by the noise, trumpeted threateningly. But the apes, to make a retreat, did not need to seek the rocky ridge; they dashed over the broken rocks towards the river and the trees growing near it with such rapidity that Saba’s fangs could not reach any of them.
The sun had set. Kali and Nasibu built a fire to prepare for supper. Stas, after unpacking the necessary articles for the night, repaired to the king’s hut, which was occupied by Nell. It was light and cheerful in the hut, for Mea had lit, not the fire-pot which had illuminated the interior of the baobab tree, but a large traveling lamp inherited from Linde. Nell did not at all feel fatigued from the journey in a day so cool, and fell into perfect good humor, especially when Stas announced that the human bones, which she feared, had been taken away.
“How nice it is here!” she exclaimed. “Look, even the floor is covered with resin. It will be fine here.”
“To-morrow I shall fully examine our possessions,” he answered; “judging, however, by what I have seen to-day, one could dwell here all his life.”
“If our papas were here, then we could. But how will you name this possession?”
“The mountain ought to be called Mount Linde in geographies; and let this village be named after you, Nell.”
“Then I shall be in the geographies?” asked she with great glee.
“You will, you will,” Stas replied in all seriousness.
XIV
The next day it rained a little, but there were hours when the weather was clear, so Stas early in the morning started to visit his possessions and at noon had viewed thoroughly all the nooks. The inspection on the whole created a favorable impression. First, in respect to safety, Mount Linde was as though the chosen spot of all Africa. Its sides were accessible only to chimpanzees. Neither lions nor panthers could climb over its precipitous sides. As to the rocky ridge, it was sufficient to place the King at its entrances to be able to sleep safely on both ears. Stas came to the conclusion that there he could repulse even a small division of dervishes, as the road leading to the mountain was so narrow that the King could barely pass on it and a man armed with a good weapon need not permit a living soul to reach the top. In the middle of the “island” gushed a spring, cool and pure as crystal, which changed into a stream and, running sinuously amid the banana groves, finally fell over the steep hanging rocks to the river, forming a narrow waterfall resembling a white tape. On the southern side of the “island” lay a field, cove
red abundantly with manioc, the roots of which supply the negroes with their favorite food, and beyond the fields towered immeasurably high cocoa palms with crowns in the shape of magnificent plumes of feathers.
The “island” was surrounded by a sea of jungle and the view from it extended over an immense expanse. From the east loomed lividly the Karamojo Mountain chain. On the south could also be seen considerable elevations, which, to judge from their dark hue, were covered with forests. On the other hand, on the western side the view ran as far as the horizon’s boundary, at which the jungle met the sky. Stas descried, however, with the help of the field-glass, numerous hollows and, scattered sparsely, mighty trees rising above the grass like churches. In places, where the grasses had not yet shot up too high, could be perceived even with the naked eye whole herds of antelopes and zebras or groups of elephants and buffaloes. Here and there giraffes cut through the dark green surface of the sea of grass. Close by the river a dozen or more water-bucks disported and others every little while thrust their horny heads out of the depths. In one place where the water was calm, fishes like those which Kali had caught leaped every little while out of the water, and, twinkling in the air like silvery stars, fell again into the river. Stas promised to himself to bring Nell there when the weather had settled and show her this whole menagerie.
On the “island,” on the other hand, there were none of the larger animals; instead there were a great number of butterflies and birds. Big parrots, white as snow, with black beaks and yellow crests flew above the bushes of the grove; tiny, wonderfully plumaged widow-birds swung on the thin manioc stalks, changing color and glittering like jewels, and from the high cocoa trees came the sounds of the African cuckoos and the gentle cooing of the turtle-dove.
Stas returned from his inspection trip with joy in his soul. “The climate,” he said, “is healthy; the security is perfect, the provisions are abundant, and the place is as beautiful as Paradise.” Returning to Nell’s hut he learned to his surprise that there were larger animals on the “island”; two, in fact, for little Nasibu had discovered in a banana thicket while Stas was absent a goat with a kid, which the dervishes had overlooked. The goat was a little wild, but the kid at once became friendly with Nasibu, who was immeasurably proud of his discovery and of the fact that through his instrumentality “bibi” would now have excellent fresh milk daily.
“What shall we do now, Stas?” Nell asked one day, when she had settled down for good to her housekeeping on the “island.”
“There is plenty of work to do,” the boy answered, after which, spreading out the fingers of one hand, he began to count on them all the work awaiting them.
“In the first place Kali and Mea are pagans, and Nasibu, as a native of Zanzibar, is a Mohammedan. It is necessary to enlighten them, teach them the faith, and baptize them. Then, it is necessary to smoke meat for our future journey and therefore I must go hunting; thirdly, having a good supply of rifles and cartridges, I want to teach Kali to shoot in order that there shall be two of us to defend you; and fourthly — you probably forgot about the kites?”
“About the kites?”
“Yes, those which you will glue, or better still, you will sew. That shall be your work.”
“I don’t want to play only.”
“That won’t be all play, but work most useful for all. Don’t think that it will end with one kite for you must be ready for fifty or more.”
“But why so many?” asked the girl, whose curiosity was aroused.
So Stas began to explain his plans and hopes. He would write on each kite their names, how they had escaped from the hands of the dervishes, where they were, and whither they were bound. He would also inscribe a request for help and that a message be despatched to Port Said. After that he would fly these kites every time the wind was blowing from the west to the east.
“Many of them,” he said, “will fall not far off; many will be stopped by the mountains, but let only one of them fly to the coast and fall into European hands — then we are saved.”
Nell was enchanted with the idea and announced that in comparison with the wisdom of Stas not even that of the King could be mentioned. She also was quite certain that a multitude of the kites would fly even to their papas, and she promised to glue them from morning until night. Her joy was so great that Stas, from fear that she might get a fever, was compelled to restrain her ardor.
And from that time the work that Stas spoke of began in earnest. Kali, who was ordered to catch as many leaping fish as possible, ceased to catch them on a line and instead made a high fence of thin bamboo, or rather something in the nature of a trellis, and this sluice he pulled across the river. In the middle of the trellis was a big opening through which the fishes had to swim in order to get into the free water. In this opening Kali placed a strong net plaited of tough palm ropes, and in this manner was assured of a bountiful catch.
He drove fish into the treacherous net with the help of the King, who, led into the water, muddied and stirred it so that not only those silvery leapers but all other creatures vanished as far as they could to an unmuddied depth. On account of this, some damage also occurred, as several times escaping crocodiles overturned the trellis, or at times the King did this himself; cherishing for crocodiles some sort of inbred hatred, he pursued them, and when they were in shallow waters he seized them with his trunk, tossed them onto the bank, and trampled upon them furiously. They found also in the nets tortoises, from which the young exiles made an excellent broth. Kali dressed the fish and dried them in the sun, while the bladders were taken to Nell, who cut them open, stretched them upon a board, and changed them into sheets as large as the palms of two hands.
She was assisted at this by Stas and Mea, as the work was not at all easy. The membranes were thicker, indeed, than that of the bladders of our river fish, but after drying up they became very frail. Stas after some time discovered that they ought to be dried in the shade. At times, however, he lost patience, and if he did not abandon the design of making kites from the membranes it was because he regarded them as lighter than paper and of better proof against rain.
The dry season of the year was already approaching, but he was uncertain whether rain did not fall during the summer particularly in the mountains.
However, he glued kites with paper, of which a large amount was found among Linde’s effects. The first one, big and light, was let go in a western wind; it shot up at once very high, and when Stas cut the string, flew, carried by a powerful current of air, to the Karamojo mountain chain. Stas watched its flight with the aid of the field-glass until it became as small as a butterfly, a little speck, and until finally it dissolved in the pale azure of the sky. The following day he let go others made of fish bladder, which shot up still higher, but on account of the transparency of the membranes soon disappeared entirely from view.
Nell worked, however, with extraordinary zeal, and in the end her little fingers acquired such skill that neither Stas nor Mea could keep up with her work. She did not lack strength now. The salubrious climate of Mount Linde simply regenerated her. The period during which the fatal third attack could come, had definitely passed. That day Stas hid himself in a banana thicket and wept from joy. After a fortnight’s stay on the mountain he observed that the “Good Mzimu” looked entirely different from what she did below in the jungle. Her cheeks were plumper, her complexion from yellow and transparent became rosy again, and from under the abundant tufts of hair, merry eyes full of luster gazed upon the world. The boy blessed the cool nights, the translucent spring-water, the flour of dried bananas, and, above all, Linde.
He himself became lean and swarthy, which was evidence that the fever would not take hold of him, as sufferers from that disease do not tan from the sun — and he was growing up and becoming manly. Activity and physical labor intensified his bravery and strength. The muscles of his hands and limbs became like steel. Indeed, he was already a hardened African traveler. Hunting daily and shooting only with bullets, he b
ecame also a matchless shot.
He did not at all fear the wild animals, for he understood that it was more dangerous for the shaggy-haired and the spotted hunters of the jungle to meet him than for him to meet them. Once he killed with a single shot a big rhinoceros, which, aroused from a light nap under an acacia, charged at him unexpectedly. He treated with indifference the aggressive African buffaloes, which at times disperse whole caravans.
Aside from the gluing of kites and other daily engagements, he and Nell also began the work of converting Kali, Mea, and Nasibu. But it was harder than they expected. The black trio listened most willingly to the instructions, but received them in their own negro way. When Stas told them of the creation of the world, about paradise and about the snake, the teaching proceeded fairly well, but when he related how Cain killed Abel, Kali involuntarily stroked his stomach and asked quite calmly:
“Did he eat him afterwards?”
The black boy always claimed, indeed, that the Wahimas never ate people, but evidently memory of that custom still lingered among them as a national tradition.
He likewise could not understand why God did not kill the wicked “Mzimu,” and many similar things. His conception of good and evil was too African; in consequence of which there once occurred between the teacher and pupil this colloquy:
“Tell me,” asked Stas, “what is a wicked deed?”
“If any one takes away Kali’s cow,” he answered after a brief reflection, “that then is a wicked deed.”
“Excellent!” exclaimed Stas, “and what is a good one?”
This time the answer came without any reflection:
“If Kali takes away the cow of somebody else, that is a good deed.”
Complete Works of Henryk Sienkiewicz Page 643