by Mona Sehgal
“Can I see them?” Krishna asked impulsively.
“You will see them,” said Wonder with a knowing smile. Pointing to a little pond on the other side of the dry river bed he continued, “They come to that water hole in the afternoon. We made it to keep the elephants from coming too close to the lodge in search of water.” His smile got wider as he bent down to Krishna and whispered, “Although, sometimes they cannot resist the sound of water pouring from the outdoor showers.”
Krishna looked up at Wonder. He must have seen me with Broken Tusk!
“Ee-yes,” came a voice from the lodge. “Mistah Wonder,” said the lodge manager looking sternly over his half-moon glasses, “the guests are hungry.”
“I better get breakfast out,” Wonder said to Krishna and hurried back into the kitchen.
Krishna ate his breakfast quietly, considering how he would convince his parents to leave him alone on the patio so he could see the elephants that afternoon.
“Mom, can I sit by the swimming pool and read my comics?” Krishna asked.
“Don’t you want to nap?” his mother asked. “We had an early start this morning.”
“I can watch over your son if he’d like to sit by the pool,” offered Wonder as he served hot omelets to Krishna and his parents. Krishna dug in, surprised at how hungry he was.
Soon after, Krishna returned to the pool clutching his Tin-Tin comics.
The lodge was silent. The staff had retreated to the kitchen and the guests had retired to their rooms. A gentle breeze played with Krishna’s hair. As he sat down on a comfy patio chair, Krishna craned his neck to see if there was any activity by the water hole. Nothing.
The noon sun continued to warm the jungle. A gentle breeze rustled through the nearby trees. Krishna started to nod off gently. As his eyes fluttered between wake and sleep, some activity caught his eyes and forced them open. There they were!
Without a sound, a herd of twelve or more elephants had appeared around the water hole. Krishna looked eagerly for Broken Tusk, but the elephants were clustered so tightly that Krishna could not clearly see each one. Krishna gingerly walked up to the edge of the patio to get a better look at the elephants.
The water hole was too small for all of them to drink from at the same time. Krishna noticed an order in how they approached the water. As one group of elephants quenched its thirst, it stepped back to allow the next group to access the water.
First, it was the turn of four or five large elephants with some baby elephants to get a drink of water. They used their trunks like straws, sucking up the water from the well and releasing it into their open mouths. It was not very different from how Krishna and his brother often used their straws in a glass of lemonade. They would suck up the liquid in the straw, shut one end with their thumb, turn the straw around and release the cool and tangy drink in their mouth.
Krishna giggled when he saw the clumsy attempts of the baby elephants. They were able to suck the water into their trunks, but kept missing the mark as they tried to squirt the water into their mouths. The adult elephants let the baby elephants struggle before using their large trunks to deliver water into the baby elephants’ mouths.
Some elephants started using their trunks to splash themselves with water.
This kind of outdoor shower is even better! thought Krishna.
Soon one elephant broke away from the group and walked up to the edge of the dry river bed. To Krishna’s delight it was Broken Tusk!
“Hello my friend,” said Broken Tusk softly.
“Hi Broken Tusk,” Krishna replied walking to the edge of the deck. “I am sorry I did not meet you last night. I really wanted to go for a ride, but I overslept. I am so sorry.”
Broken Tusk did not look or sound upset at all. “It was your first day here. You must have been tired,” the elephant said kindly. “My offer still stands, if you want to go tonight.”
Krishna and Broken Tusk’s short conversation was interrupted by a loud trumpeting sound from one of the elephants.
“That’s our chief,” said Broken Tusk. “As soon as she finishes drinking, we have to go.”
When Krishna’s smile started fading, Broken Tusk winked and said, “Stay where you are and you will be entertained. See if you can give names to the animals you see here. You might find that as you give names you will create stories. And these stories may lead you to something magical.”
Before turning around to go back, Broken Tusk added, “I told my family about the story of your name. They enjoyed the story very much!”
And with that, Broken Tusk turned around and walked back to his herd.
Seven
NAME GAME
The elephant herd disappeared just as quickly and quietly as they had appeared.
Barely a minute or two later, two warthogs came trotting up to the water hole.
What funny looking creatures they are! thought Krishna. They had two tusk-like projections on their snouts and tufts of coarse hair on their backs.
Krishna looked at them intently, trying to figure out what names to give them. One warthog had a really big tuft of straw colored hair as thick as a bush. Krishna decided to call him Walking Bush. The other warthog had a tail that looked like it had been cut short.
He could be Little Tail, Krishna decided.
No sooner had Krishna given the animals names than he could understand their conversation. Perhaps Broken Tusk was right, Krishna thought as he listened closely.
“Did you see that elephant herd? Those tuskers took their sweet time, didn’t they?” squealed Walking Bush. “They don’t care that the rest of us are dying of thirst.”
“They have nearly emptied the well!” complained Little Tail.
The warthogs crouched low to get to the water in the hole. Krishna was amused to see them work hard to reach the water. Their front bodies nearly disappeared from view, except for their round bottoms and Walking Bush’s hair.
The clump of hair on Walking Bush’s back looks like an excellent way to fool predators, thought Krishna. But how did Little Tail lose part of his tail. Did a crocodile chomp it off? Or maybe he lost it in a fight?
“Ahh, that was good. Really, really good,” said Walking Bush as he emerged with water dripping from his mouth.
Little Tail nodded vigorously in agreement. “We should go,” he said, “We need to find more food. Besides, the other big fellows will be here soon.”
No sooner had the tall grass swallowed up the warthogs that Krishna saw two large dark forms appear in the distance. As they got closer, Krishna realized that two buffalo were approaching the water hole. Both were very large, and had a pair of very large horns. Krishna felt a little scared, but remembered Broken Tusk’s advice and decided to give them names. One buffalo had whitish patches over his black body.
That one could be Patches, thought Krishna. And the other, with a crooked horn? His name could be Zig Zag.
Once the buffalo were near, Krishna could understand their conversation. They were really thirsty too and not very happy with what they saw.
“Who do you think has been here already?” said Patches. “Look how low the water level is!”
“A big buffalo herd will be passing by,” said Zig Zag, apparently thinking about other things. “Do you want to join them?”
When Zig Zag did not get a response, he looked up at Patches. Krishna realized that Patches was looking directly at him.
Maybe he knows I am listening to their conversation, Krishna thought nervously. Krishna remained still and lowered his gaze.
“Have you spaced out again?” Zig Zag said annoyed.
“What—What?” muttered Patches as he blinked his eyes and turned toward Zig Zag.
“Let’s hurry up and drink if we want to join the herd,” said Zig Zag irritably.
The buffalo kneeled on their front legs to reach the water and
drank nosily. Then they stood up and lingered around the well.
“What if the younger buffalo chase us away?” asked Patches. “They are so much stronger than we are now.”
“We are more likely to survive with the group than alone,” said Zig Zag. “Let’s give it a try.”
Both animals nodded to each other and then disappeared into the tall yellow grass.
Krishna was relieved when the buffalo left. He was starting to feel thirsty himself. A shadow fell nearby. Krishna looked up and saw Xianous.
“Okaay,” said Xianous also looking at his shadow. “Would you like something to drink?”
“Actually, yes,” said Krishna. Then he added with a smile, “Can I get a glass of lemonade, with a straw?”
Eight
THE MAGIC POND
Krishna retired to his room early after the evening safari. “I want to pack my things,” he had told to his parents, since they were leaving the following day.
Even though he tried to sleep, every little sound kept Krishna awake. He heard the water in the sink run for a while before everything became quiet and all lights were turned off.
At 11:45 p.m. Krishna’s alarm clock buzzed. He turned it off and quietly got out of bed. Without a sound, he put on his socks and shoes, and grabbed the jacket he had neatly folded over a chair. He peered out of the window. It was cold and there was a light breeze, but he could not see anything. So he sat on his bed and waited.
Close to midnight the window creaked. Krishna leapt toward it, his heart beating wildly. Broken Tusk had arrived!
Krishna carefully climbed out of the large window. Broken Tusk lowered his slightly curled trunk.
“Hold tight,” he said, taking a few steps back from the cottage. Then, with one strong movement of his trunk, Broken Tusk hoisted Krishna on top of his head.
“Climb up and find a comfortable spot to sit,” guided the elephant, “and hold on to me.”
Krishna’s legs dangled on either side of Broken Tusk’s neck and he grabbed the elephant’s body with both hands. Krishna felt like he was up on a hill. Then the hill turned around and headed into the forest.
A full moon was shining and hundreds of stars twinkled in the clear sky. Krishna had never seen so many stars. The night was not as dark as it had appeared from his bedroom window. The moon’s silvery light painted the trees, dry grass, and the scenery ahead of them. A cool breeze brushed against Krishna’s hair and cheeks. He heard the occasional moan or howl of animals.
“Are you okay up there?” Broken Tusk asked Krishna.
“Yes—yes, I am fine. Where are we going?”
“I thought we could walk through the jungle, so you can get a different kind of safari experience. Then we could go to the pond,” replied Broken Tusk.
“You mean the Magic Pond?”
“Yes,” said Broken Tusk.
Despite his large size, Broken Tusk hardly made a sound when he walked.
“Can you tell me your story?” Krishna suddenly asked.
“My story?” said Broken Tusk.
“Yes. The story of your name.”
“Ah!” said Broken Tusk. “You know, when I was younger, I got into fights all the time.”
“No way!” said Krishna, unable to believe that this calm and friendly elephant could get angry.
“It’s true,” said Broken Tusk. “There was an older and bigger elephant who used to tease me and my friends a lot. My mother would tell me to ignore him, but I used to get really mad at him. One day I got so angry that I picked a fight with him. I got badly bruised in that fight and broke my tusk too. My mother was very upset about it.”
“What happened then?” asked Krishna, eager to know more.
“After that fight, I felt really bad about getting so angry. So I decided that I was going to become more clam and not let little things bother me. Every time I started to get angry or annoyed, I would remember my broken tusk,” said Broken Tusk.
“Did it help?” asked Krishna.
“Yes!” replied Broken Tusk. “All my friends were surprised that I didn’t get angry any more. They started calling me Broken Tusk. At first I thought they were teasing me. But then I realized I liked the name. And it stuck!”
“I like it too!” said Krishna.
After walking in silence for a little while, Krishna and Broken Tusk came to a spot that looked familiar. It seemed brighter than the rest of the jungle. Krishna saw the baobab tree. Wasn’t that the tree he had seen with Oscar? The tree seemed to hum loudly.
“What’s inside the tree?” Krishna asked softly.
But Broken Tusk stayed silent. The response came from the tree in a few minutes. One after another, several birds emerged from the top of the tree. They were of different colors and sizes: small green-yellow bee-eaters, glistening blue starlings, purple and blue lilac-breasted rollers, and black and white magpies.
Through his wide open eyes, Krishna took in the beautiful sight of the colorful birds perched on the baobab tree. The tree was glowing softly in the night, as if lit from inside. It was like the Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center, but more beautiful, more magical.
The birds seemed to respond to a strange music in the air. Was it the wind whistling and piping through the large hollow trunk of the baobab tree? Or was it the other Krishna, the flute-playing god, who was creating that music? Suddenly Krishna felt anything was possible. Broken Tusk had brought him to a place where the imaginary became real.
The gentle movement of Broken Tusk’s head drew Krishna’s attention to the nearby pond. An underwater source of light had lit it up. Wisps of mist arose from the bright surface of the pond. What Krishna saw beyond the mist took his breath away.
A very large lion with a bushy mane was drinking from the pond. And next to him were a zebra, an impala, an elephant, a cheetah, a warthog, and even a hyena.
“How is that possible?” Krishna asked.
“The magic hour makes this possible,” explained Broken Tusk. “It usually occurs after midnight. A small window of time when there is complete harmony at the pond. When the lion and the zebra can drink from the pond at the same time, without the zebra fearing the lion.”
Krishna was amazed. “Does this happen everywhere in the jungle?”
“I have not seen it everywhere. But I have seen it here, at this pond next to the baobab tree,” replied Broken Tusk.
“Can we go closer?” Krishna asked.
“Yes,” said Broken Tusk, “and you can walk around, if you’d like.”
Krishna turned around and slowly slid down Broken Tusk’s trunk as if it were a slide. But he held on to Broken Tusk’s trunk as if holding a friend’s hand. Krishna walked to the edge of the pond where the animals were gathered. His presence did not startle the animals, who continued to drink from the pond.
A curious zebra came up and sniffed Krishna’s neck. Then it gently put its head under Krishna’s hand. Krishna felt his hand move up and down the zebra’s head. It was like petting a dog, except that the zebra’s head was much, much bigger.
Krishna walked around some more. He saw some warthogs wallowing in the mud. Krishna looked more closely. Two warthogs looked back at him. It was Walking Bush and Little Tail! Krishna smiled and waved at them as he walked by.
Krishna had gone a short distance, when he felt that soft ground give way to a rocky surface. Krishna looked down and saw that he was not on the ground, but had accidentally stepped on the crocodile. The crocodile barely reacted.
Broken Tusk asked the crocodile if he would be willing to take Krishna for a ride. Before Krishna could say anything, the crocodile made a grunting sound, which must have been his way of saying yes. Immediately, the crocodile began to walk backwards into the water. Krishna stood with his legs apart as if on a surfboard. The crocodile glided smoothly on the milky-blue water. Krishna saw colorful fish swimming in the bri
ghtly lit pond.
The crocodile took Krishna to a little island in the center of the pond. Krishna stepped off the crocodile and looked at the incredible sight around him. Did the magic hour make the imaginary real? Was Krishna, the dark skinned god, really there?
Krishna closed his eyes and felt the cool mist around him. He heard the distant sound of a flute. As the sound grew louder, Krishna opened his eyes. The music of the flute was so sweet that even the animals seemed to sway to it. Krishna strained his neck to see the source of the music. He thought he saw someone move behind the row of animals. It was Krishna, the god, in his fluttering yellow robe and a peacock feather tucked in curly black hair.
Gradually, the mist from the pond turned from white to colorful streaks of yellow, blue and green. Over the sweet sound of the flute, Krishna heard an elephant’s gentle call. He saw Broken Tusk raise his trunk. On cue from his friend, the crocodile nudged Krishna to climb on its back.
As the crocodile glided back toward the shore, Krishna noticed that the mist was drawing its color from the fish that were becoming pale. The music from the flute was no longer calm; it grew restless with every passing moment. The air grew turbulent, forcing the streaks of blue, green, and yellow mist to blow sideways. By the time Krishna got to the shore, a strong wind was churning the mist and the water of the pond.
“It’s time to go,” said Broken Tusk, lowering his trunk. Quietly Krishna stepped on the familiar trunk, which powerfully lifted him once again to the elephant’s back.
Krishna noticed that the animals were dispersing, the mist was getting denser and darker, and the music from the flute was hard to distinguish from the roar of the wind.
As Broken Tusk started to move, Krishna managed to ask, “What’s happening?”
“The magic hour is coming to an end,” said Broken Tusk, “and we need to head back.”