At the same moment there was a roar of such violence that I had the feeling that the whole plateau was giving way under my feet. What happened next, what happened in the seconds that followed, I would be hard put to say. I didn’t know what was going on exactly. I distinctly heard Sanders’ voice, in a drunken, joyful shout, of triumph verging on madness, which was almost drowned out, swallowed up, by the terrible racket of an animal in fury.
‘Ilichine, Nain-Sain, Michel, that’s it! Bravo Michel, that’s done!’
That’s done? What was done? I thought that I had had nothing to do, that the pulley, the ropes, everything had worked automatically. It was Ilichine, Nain-Sain, and above all Sanders, who deserved the praise. While I, perched on my rock up above, I could only contemplate with a sort of stupefaction the tremendous spectacle of the brute whose desperate writhing and contortions were gradually diminishing in their ferocity. As it became increasingly tangled up in the net, you had to admire the composure and the speed with which the others had moved on to the next task. They unhooked the net from the crampons from which it had been hanging. As for me, I only had to keep a careful hold of the ropes on which the whole system depended, a job a child could do, as I’ve already said, even under the extreme efforts of the animal which, paralysed by its own movements, had now ceased to be at all frightening, despite the terrifying depth of its increasingly furious roars.
*
‘Kublai, with your permission, we’re going to try and calm you down a bit,’ said Sanders. ‘Ilichine, be so good as to pass me that nice little instrument.’
He was talking about the long syringe with the crimson liquid. Now it was time for it to do its job. I’ve said it a thousand times: with Sanders, all the details were foreseen. Armed with the syringe Sanders walked up to the shapeless and menacing bundle which was our formidable captive. I wasn’t exactly sure of the type of solution contained in the syringe, but I had some reason for thinking that it was a by-product of stovaine, a rare and powerful anaesthetic. The roaring of the creature as Sanders approached it redoubled in ferocity and intensity. As our leader I had never seen him so calm, so self-controlled. I remember, he smiled at me one last time. I realised what confidence he was entrusting in me with this smile!
There was a howl more dreadful than all the others, a cry of pain, a cry of rage, of an outraged but impotent beast! This was followed by a dull moan. And finally the shock of a gigantic mass as it slumped heavily on to the rocky ground.
What happened next took place in the blink of an eye. However much I forced myself afterwards, I couldn’t recount the exact sequence of events. But not for the slightest second, however, and this I can state quite categorically, did my attention waver when it came to manoeuvring the pulley and the ropes. So how can anyone understand this? But it is impossible to deny that at the precise moment when Sanders had just emptied the contents of the syringe into the flesh of the monster, the latter, in the space of a flash of lightning, suddenly regained control of itself. We saw how, in a quick, dramatic movement, it raised itself up to its full height. The desperate leap which Sanders made was not enough to put him out of Kublai’s range. Then the net, which had loosened for a fatal split second, tightened up again, this time permanently. Now the stovaine was doing its work. Yes, but Sanders, thrown to the ground with a single blow from that terrible paw, was lying there with his skull crushed, his shoulder and right collarbone smashed.
*
‘Go back to the camp, and tell the others. I’ll stay here with him. It’s better that way.’
Silently, Ilichine and Nain-Sain did as I said. We would have time later to examine our tragic and magnificent prey, to admire it, to surround it with the care and attention which it would need. For now, it was vital to proceed as quickly as possible. The anaesthetic was guaranteed to last for scarcely more than an hour, something which Sanders had often warned us about. Between now and then Kublai had to be transported to his cage. He could yell as much as he liked when he woke up. We would leave him in peace until he was in a better mood.
We started up the crane without difficulty, and hoisted our load, colossal and inert, into the car, which had swiftly been transformed into a van. Kublai’s head, as big as a good-sized barrel, nodded, temporarily deprived of life. Not without a slight shudder, we felt his empty stare weighing on us, like the mute gaze of a shark. At the point where the syringe had penetrated its skin, a few red pearls glistened on the beautiful white fur, as smooth and as shiny as silk.
‘Come on, hurry up, I’m waiting!’
What could I say of the moments while I was left alone next to the body? Everything which had just taken place had unfolded in such a fashion, at such a nightmare speed, so fast that I had become giddy. Now it was all over. I had to see the situation as it was, like a new world which I was entering, a world even more dreadful perhaps than the one I had lived in up until then. Night was not far off. It had started to snow again.
I glanced at Sanders. We hadn’t left him exactly in the spot where he had fallen, but instead we had carried him to the entrance to the cave so that his body would at least be partly sheltered. Ilichine had placed a piece of canvas over his head which had been horrifically crushed. I lifted up this canvas, and looked.
What a hideous sight it was, this flattened skull, which had caved in on itself like a child’s balloon, a burst balloon! And yet my eyes remained unmoved, my heart was calm, my mind was clear. No, I could not manage to be moved. I couldn’t even feel sorry for Sanders, if you know what I mean. First of all, physically, he had not suffered, not in the slightest. And then, thinking about it, he had lead a life which he wanted, a good life, all in all. He was a man, and at his age almost an old man, when you think that Alzire had been with him! Certainly, they had not been together very long, thank heavens, but even so she had been with him! When he was with her, his life had not been dull. But now it was clear that he no longer had anything to fear from her. His account with her had been settled in a single step, once and for all.
*
There was a sound, down below, in the ravine! An engine, a murmur of voices. It was my companions arriving. They were all there, the whole group, including Youen. There was no longer any point in leaving him to guard the camp. We had to resign ourselves to leaving Kublai alone, in his cage, still asleep. Besides, it wasn’t likely that anyone would come along to pick a fight with him, was it?
As if he had read my thoughts, without me having had to so much as whisper a word to him, Nain-Sain had brought some shovels and pick-axes. Since it was not possible to return him to his distant, native Australia, Sanders would now lie where his destiny had ordained that he should fall. We dug his grave at the entrance to the cave. The ground was frozen hard, and we had to take it in turns to dig. The three crows were still there. But they no longer circled overhead. Instead they had lined up in a row on the edge of the rock above our heads, from where they watched us.
I took a few moments while I was not working to observe my friends. The three Koreans had put on white hoods with their tunics, which is the normal sign of mourning in their country. From time to time Neratov wiped his grey moustache where there was something bright which could well have been a tear. Welowski was weeping openly, Ilichine had a nervous quiver in his lip. Nain-Sain was the only one to have lost none of his placidity. When he was not digging he made sure that all the equipment that remained on the ground and that had been used in the capture of the animal was methodically collected up: the syringe and the stovaine, the unused rockets, the ropes, and lastly the pulley, from which the net had been carefully detached after its ferocious load had been hoisted into the van. The pulley seemed to hold a great fascination for Nain-Sain. He rotated it back and forth with great care and attention. Finally I saw him carefully store it away.
And Kiss, little Kiss, who I nearly forgot! In the general confusion he had slipped past Youen and managed to escape. He didn’t growl at all, just whimpered quietly, in a way that was quite heart-breaking,
punctuating the blows of the pickaxe with his plaintive cries.
When everything was finished, we levelled out as best we could the stony clay with our shovels. We rolled on to it as many big stones as we were able to. The crows continued to watch us, motionless, seemingly disappointed. For a few minutes Neratov had stopped digging in the ground. Armed with a hammer and a chisel, he was busy inscribing something in the rock. He managed to engrave, between the two upper crampons, the dates of the birth and the death of our leader:
JACK SANDERS
Born 1865, at Rockhampton
Died 28 May 1926, in the Gobi
*
‘Youen, sort things out as you like, but get rid of that animal for me. Try and keep it locked up a bit more carefully this time. Just look at him now! What’s got into him, that stupid dog?’
It was Kiss, once again Kiss, who I was talking about. He was lying on the tomb. I tried to get him to move, but he refused. He looked at me with hateful, threatening eyes, bared his teeth, then finally bit my finger.
‘That’s what I get for my efforts!’ I said furiously. ‘Youen, grab hold of him, do you hear!’
We all piled into the car as best we could. Kiss whimpered louder than ever, trying to jump out. Nain-Sain was still busy with his pulley. The three crows were circling above the cave again. We could just make them out, three little black specks against the grey sky.
Back at the camp, there was quite a pleasant surprise waiting for us. Not that Kublai, following the example of Kiss, had found a way of giving himself airs: if that had been the case, his cage with its strong, toughened steel bars, would have brought him back to a better frame of mind. Besides, he seemed, for the moment at least, uninclined to give us the slip, and hadn’t yet regained his strength. Stretched out, or sprawling rather, to his full extent, both terrible and splendid to contemplate, with his formidable snores and his way of rocking from left to right in his sleep, he seemed rather like a gentleman who had been a bit too fond of the bottle and was having some difficulty in getting back on his feet.
Our own animals, on the other hand, were behaving in a manner which was much less peaceful. I had to admit that it was with some temerity, not to say recklessness that we tried to establish so soon a degree of harmony between an animal of the nature and size of Kublai, and a dozen unfortunate horses and camels. The results of this crazy idea soon became apparent. My companions, before coming to join me at the cave, had tried in vain to round up our animals more securely; the beasts were no doubt only waiting for them to leave before rushing out across the steppe, tearing free from all restraints, escorted by Kailar’s dogs, which were themselves nearly as mad with terror as they were. And this was while our new guest was still peacefully enjoying his siesta! Ah yes, that was really going to be fun, the moment when he began to emerge from his lethargy, the moment he began to roar!
Camels, dogs, horses, if they wanted to they could all continue to run about in all directions. The rest of us, even the strongest among us, suddenly felt very depressed, completely crushed by the emotions of that mournful afternoon, so that no one, I’m sure, would have had the will to chase after them. Night had nearly fallen, a night which had never seemed so hostile, so full of menace. The silhouette of the lorry containing the cage with our monstrous captive, strange yet solid, stood out against the sky, which had now acquired a greenish glow. There was not one of us who secretly didn’t tremble to think of our ferocious prey, so near, so close. Mute and reduced to impotence, it terrified us, after what had just taken place, even more than when it was raging and roaring. It was as if we were both horrified and exhausted by our victory. And what good was it anyway? How could we not think just then of the man who, throughout his life, had had no other ambition than this, and who found the means, just at that moment, to no longer be here?
I didn’t sleep a wink that night in my usual place, in the lorry with the tiger. Whether it was because of the presence of him or the absence of Sanders, I couldn’t say for certain what prevented me. Anyway, sleep would be putting it too strongly since I didn’t manage to doze off for a minute. Why not? I was too tired, no doubt. Otherwise, what else could be the reason? And yet the others, my comrades in the second lorry, to whom I went in search of refuge, they all slept, even though they were as weary as me.
*
At dawn, we were entertained to the most wonderful concert which could ever have regaled lovers of music in the countryside. Kublai was wide awake now. With a growl which could only belong to him, he demanded both his freedom and his breakfast. For one hour, at the top of his voice, his roar did not cease to echo throughout the Gobi, from Lhasa to Uliassoutai and to Ulan Bator. This was not going to get our prodigal children to return to the fold. The cage in the lorry, and the lorry itself on the ground, thank heavens and thanks to the work of Sanders, were both well balanced. But the furious jolts and jerks which the brute was making from one side to the other caused us much anguish, and to wonder whether everything might be turned upside down.
Fortunately, hunger is a better counsellor than anger. At about noon Kublai quietened down, having made himself hoarse from so much roaring. He confined himself to saying a couple of words to the enormous side of congealed yak meat which Youen, not greatly reassured, passed to him in his cage, putting into operation for the first time the much talked-about mechanism of the internal partition. In addition, by nightfall there was no longer a single one of our animals which had deserted us which had not agreed to let itself be recaptured. We dined with a better appetite that evening. Our joie de vivre regained its rightful place. Everyone boasted that he was likely to come away unharmed from such a dreadful adventure, since we were now about to set off on the journey home, at daybreak, the following morning.
*
‘Is everything ready?’ I asked Nain-Sain, with whom I had just agreed the itinerary for our first day’s march.
‘Everything’s ready’ replied the Mongolian, looking at me with his slanting eyes. ‘But there is one detail however. That little Kiss . . . ‘
‘What about him?’
‘Youen let him escape again. He was hoping he would come back. He hasn’t dared say anything about it.’
I shrugged my shoulders. ‘We won’t waste our time looking for him. It’s too bad for him! As far as I’m concerned, I don’t really care.’
I showed him my injured finger.
Nain-Sain continued to look at me, and shook his head, smiling.
‘Of course, I won’t miss him either. There was nothing especially nice about him. But there was something about him which you can’t deny.’
‘Which was?’
‘That that sort of creature is not just a dumb animal.’
‘Dumb animal? What do you mean?’
‘I mean – oh, it’s nothing! – but sometimes they have an intuition, you could say they almost have ideas . . . This one for example might have been the only one of us to have guessed why the pulley, just for a moment, didn’t work.’
XVII
Isn’t it always like that? You’re only sensitive to the trials of others when you have had to endure something similar yourself. To understand what Sanders must have felt on the quay side at Fouzan, when he saw his beloved Mikado suspended between heaven and earth, at the mercy of the slightest false move, I had to wait until I found myself in an identical situation. That was what I discovered when, trembling and pale with anxiety, at the end of the main jetty in the port of Tsing-Tao, I watched the formidable mass of the crate swaying at the end of a steel cable, seemingly as thin as a gossamer thread, the crate which now contained all my own hopes, in the form of a tiger whose whiteness was as dazzling as the mountain peaks of the land from which he came.
Instructed by experience, and anxious to leave nothing to chance, I was intent on taking all the necessary precautions in advance. The facilities at the port of Tsing-Tao are probably no better than those at Fouzan. In any case, I was careful to give instructions beforehand, and on the due day I h
ad at hand all the necessary equipment and all the necessary personnel. Although I was absolutely certain that nothing had been overlooked, it was only after I had seen my animal well and truly installed in the prow of the ship which was going to transport the two of us, that I allowed myself to heave a sigh of relief.
Forty-two days had already elapsed since the death of Sanders, forty-two days during which the return journey was even more eventful than the outward journey, encumbered as we were with our cargo, although in fact it didn’t cause us half as much trouble as we had the right to expect. Kublai, to give him his due, had taken to his new existence philosophically enough. But we certainly couldn’t rely too much on his apparent resignation. He had a way of watching you, under his large, half-closed eyelids, and of gently tucking his paw under his huge body, like a spring being wound up! . . . . Well, at that moment, in all honesty you felt something run down your spine which made you want to discontinue any further conversation with him.
It was at Kalgan that our caravan began to split up, for the simple reason that this was the first town that we came across that had, amongst other conveniences and attractions, a British consul. This honourable gentleman carried out the two formalities of recording the decease of Sanders, and of reading his will. I hadn’t thought it was my responsibility to announce earlier to my companions what the intentions of our late leader had been, such as he himself had revealed them to me, and I must say it was with some apprehension that I saw the moment of this essential ceremony approaching. But in reality I had nothing to fear. There was no bad feeling, no unpleasant surprise, when the consul declared that I was to be both Sanders’ executor and the sole beneficiary of his will. Kailar, Neratov, Welowski, and the others, all thought it was quite natural and reasonable that such a flattering and lucrative expression of friendship should be made in my favour. It was only me, despite the repugnance which I felt deep down inside, for something which I couldn’t help thinking was a bit like a comedy, who had to try to appear surprised at treatment which was so far in excess of what I deserved, and to show some confusion as a result. Even for the good and naïve fellows for whom they were intended, my protestations did not perhaps carry all the conviction and sincerity that I might have wished. But to be honest I didn’t bother about that for very long. When all was said and done, what was the point of worrying about what they might think of me? We weren’t going to spend the rest of our lives together, were we?
The Gobi Desert Page 14