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THE MEMOIRS

OF A

WHITE ELEPHANT

BY

JUDITH GAUTIER

Translated from the French by S. A. B. Harvey

Illustrated by L. H. Smith and S. B. Kite

NEW YORK

DUFFIELD & COMPANY




FOREWORD

(_Avant-propos_)


We are told by writers of antiquity that elephants have written
sentences in Greek, and that one of them was even known to speak.
There is, therefore, nothing unreasonable in the supposition that the
White Elephant of this history, the famous "_Iravata_" so celebrated
throughout Asia, should have written his own memoirs.

The story of his long existence--at times so glorious, and at other
times so full of misfortune--in the kingdom of Siam, and the India of
the Maharajahs and the English, is full of most curious and interesting
adventure.

After being almost worshipped as an idol, _Iravata_ becomes a warrior;
he is made prisoner with his master, whose life he saves, and whom he
assists to escape.

Later he is deemed worthy to be the guardian and companion of the
lovely little Princess Parvati, for whose amusement he invents
wonderful games, and to whom he renders a loving service.

We see how a wicked sentiment having crept into the heart of the
faithful Elephant, usually so wise and good, he is separated for a
long time from his beloved Princess, and meets with painful and trying
experiences.

But at last he once more finds his devoted friend the Princess, and her
forgiveness restores him to happiness.

J. G.




FOREWORD TO THE AMERICAN EDITION


My DEAR CHILDREN:--

This Story was written by Mademoiselle Gautier, a French lady who lives
in Paris. She is very handsome, and very learned, and is able to write
and speak Chinese, which is the most difficult language in the world.

She has also written beautiful tales of Persia, Japan, and other
far-away countries.

This Story was meant for French children, but I have made it into
English, so that my little American friends can have the pleasure of
hearing all about "_Iravata_" the good and wise Elephant, and his
friends, the _King_ and _Queen of Golconda_, and the charming little
_Princess Parvati_.

_Iravata_ meets with many surprising adventures. At one time he becomes
a "War-Elephant," and goes into battle in magnificent armour carrying
the King on his back. He fights tremendously, but nevertheless is taken
prisoner, and the King, his master, is condemned to death by his cruel
enemies. But the clever Elephant finds a way to liberate his Master,
and they escape together, and after many adventures reach home safely.

Later on _Iravata_ becomes restless and unhappy, and runs away, and
after many wanderings, he joins a Circus. Here he performs many amusing
feats. But, growing homesick, he is at last only too glad to return to
his home in the Palace of Golconda, where he lives happily ever after.

S. A. B. H.

Atlantic City, 1916.




CONTENTS


Foreword

         I.  THE STUDENT OF GOLCONDA
        II.  THE NATIVE FOREST
       III.  THE TRIUMPHAL PROCESSION
        IV.  ROYAL ELEPHANT OF SIAM
         V.  THE DOWRY OF THE PRINCESS
        VI.  THE DEPARTURE
       VII.  THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD
      VIII.  BATTLE
        IX.  THE ESCAPE
         X.  GANESA
        XI.  WE ARE TAKEN FOR ROBBERS
       XII.  PARVATI
      XIII.  MY PRINCESS
       XIV.  ELEPHANT GAMES
        XV.  SCIENCE
       XVI.  FINE CLOTHES
      XVII.  THE ABDUCTION
     XVIII.  RETRIBUTION
       XIX.  THE HERMIT
        XX.  DESPAIR
       XXI.  JEALOUSY
      XXII.  FLIGHT
     XXIII.  THE HERD
      XXIV.  THE BRAHMAN
       XXV.  THE IRON RING
      XXVI.  "THE GRAND CIRCUS OF THE TWO WORLDS"
     XXVII.  MY DEBUT
    XXVIII.  COMEDIAN
      XXIX.  THE RETURN TO PARADISE



ILLUSTRATIONS

A SPLENDID PROCESSION WAS FORMED AND BEGAN ITS MARCH. I FOLLOWED NEXT
    AFTER THE KING ... _Frontispiece_

TRANSPORTED WITH RAGE I RAN AT HIM, SEIZED HIM WITH MY TRUNK AND
    DRAGGED HIM FROM THE SADDLE

PARVATI RAN TO HIM, LAUGHING AND QUITE RECOVERED

"WHICH OF YOU HAS BEEN GOOD?" SHE INQUIRED

I UTTERED A SUDDEN ROAR AND AT THE SAME TIME LEAPED TOWARD THE SERPENT

"HE IS WHITE, AND THAT IS ALL THE MORE REASON FOR SENDING HIM OFF"

"OH, IRAVATA! IRAVATA!" SHE SAID IN A LOW VOICE




THE MEMOIRS OF A WHITE ELEPHANT


[Illustration]




CHAPTER I

THE STUDENT OF GOLCONDA


First of all I must tell you how I learned to write. This knowledge
came to me somewhat late in my long life, but it has to be mentioned
at the outset, for although you men have taught my race to perform
many laborious tasks, you have not been in the habit of sending us to
school, and an elephant capable of reading and writing is a phenomenon
so rare as to seem almost incredible. I say _rare_, for I have heard it
stated that my case is not entirely unique. During my long association
with mankind I have come to understand much of their speech. I am even
acquainted with several languages; Siamese, Hindustani, and a little
English.

I might have been able to speak; I attempted to do so at times;
but I only succeeded in producing such extraordinary sounds as set
my teachers laughing, and terrified my companion elephants, if they
chanced to hear me; for my utterances resembled neither their own
language nor that of mankind!

I was about sixty years old (which is the prime of youth with us), when
chance enabled me to learn letters, and eventually to write the words
which I was never able to pronounce.

       *       *       *       *       *

The enclosure reserved for me in the Palace of Golconda, where I was
permitted to roam entirely at liberty, was bordered on one side by a
wall of bricks enameled in blue and green. It was quite a high wall,
but it reached only to my shoulder, so that I could, if inclined, look
over the top very easily.

I spent much of my time at this place, owing to some tall tamarind
trees, which cast a fresh and delicious shade all around.

I had plenty of leisure, indeed, I was actually idle, for I was rarely
called upon except for processions. So, after my morning bath had been
taken, my toilet made, and my breakfast finished, my guardians, or
rather my servants, were at liberty to sleep, or to go about visiting
and amusing themselves--while I stood motionless under the trees, going
over in my mind the many experiences of my past life.

Every day there arose from an adjoining courtyard merry shouts
and laughter, which would be followed by a silence, and then by a
monotonous chanting. It was a class of little boys who were reciting
the Alphabet, for a school was being taught there.

Under shady trees, on turf covered here and there with small carpets,
a number of children with red caps romped and played, when the Master
was not there. As soon as he appeared all was silence, and he seated
himself upon a larger rug, under an old tree.

On the trunk of the tree was fastened a white Tablet, on which he wrote
with a red pencil.

I looked and listened, at first without much interest, noticing chiefly
the mischievous antics of the children, who made faces at me, and
glanced over with all sorts of grimaces--exploding suddenly with
laughter for which no cause was apparent.... Punishments rained! Tears
succeeded laughter! And I, who felt myself somewhat the cause of the
disturbance, no longer ventured to show myself. _But my curiosity was
awakened_. The idea of trying to learn what was being taught to the
small men became fixed in my mind.

I could not speak--but who knows?--I might learn to write!

Concealed in the foliage from the eyes of the frolicsome little
urchins, I gave an extreme attention to the lessons--sometimes making
such violent efforts to understand that I trembled from head to foot.

All that was required was simply to pronounce the letters of the
Alphabet, one after another, and trace them on the white Tablet.

At night now, instead of sleeping, I exercised my memory; and when in
spite of my endeavors I could not recall the form or the sound of a
letter, I uttered such cries of despair that my guardians were aroused.

One day there stood before the Tablet a boy who was quite large, but
extremely stupid. He had stood for some minutes with his head hanging
down, his finger in his mouth, shifting himself from one foot to the
other in a sulky manner--_He did not know_!

All at once an impulse seized me. I extended my trunk over the wall,
and taking the pencil gently, with the tip of my trunk, from the hand
of the little dunce (somewhat excited by my own audacity), I traced on
the white Tablet a gigantic "_E_"!!!!

The stupefaction was such that it could only be manifested by profound
silence, and gaping mouths.

Emboldened by success I seized the wet cloth with which the Tablet
was cleaned, and effaced the "E" which I had drawn. Then, in smaller
characters, and doing my very best, I wrote the entire Alphabet, from
end to end.

This time the Master fell on his face, crying out, _"A Miracle"_ and
the children ran away, terrified.

As for me, I expressed my satisfaction by moving backward and forward
my big ears.

The Teacher now rose trembling, detached the Tablet (being careful not
to obliterate any of the writing), and, after saluting me most humbly,
went away. A few moments later I saw my Mahout advancing towards me,
and, without mounting, he led me through the great avenues of the park
to the Entrance of the Palace.

Here ordinarily was seated my dear Mistress. But now she had left her
couch, and, kneeling on a cushion, was examining the Tablet covered
with letters which the Schoolmaster had brought her.

Standing around her were visitors, also looking on--several Hindus and
an Englishman.

As soon as she saw me she ran to me, clapping her hands.

"_Is it true? Is it true?_" cried she. "_Iravata, did you really do
it?_" I replied by winking my eyes and flapping my ears.

"_Yes!--He says yes!_" said my sweet Mistress, who always understood me.

But the Englishman shook his head, with an air of incredulity.

"In order to believe such a thing," said he, "I should have to see it
with my own eyes--hearsay is not enough."

I attempted to efface the writing.

"No, no," said the Schoolmaster, removing it out of my reach.

"I saw the Miracle, and I implore the Royal Soul which inhabits the
body of this Elephant to allow me to retain the proofs!"

Upon a sign from the Princess the Scribes were sent for. They came and
unrolled before me a long scroll of white satin, and gave me a pencil
dipped in gold ink.

The Englishman, with a singular grimace, put a morsel of glass in front
of one of his eyes, and became observant.

Secure now of myself, not permitting myself to be embarrassed by the
scrutiny of the company, I clasped the pencil firmly with the tip of
my trunk, and slowly, and with deliberation, I wrote very neatly the
Alphabet, from beginning to end.

"Iravata!--my faithful friend!" said the Princess, "_I knew that you
were more than our equal_!"...

Then, with her lovely white arms she clasped my ugly trunk, and leaned
her cheek against my rough skin. I felt her tears falling upon me, and
trembling myself with emotion, I knelt down and wept, too.

"Very curious!... Very curious!" murmured the Englishman, who seemed
much excited, and continually let fall and replaced the bit of glass in
the corner of his eye.

"What have you to say, Milord? You, who are one of the most learned men
in England?" inquired the Princess, drying my eyes with the corner of
her gauze scarf.

The philosopher recovered his composure.

"Quintus Mucius, who was three times Consul, relates that he saw an
elephant draw in Greek characters this sentence. "_It is I who have
written these words, and have dedicated the Celtic Spoils_" And _Elien_
mentions an elephant who was able to write entire phrases, and even
talk. I was formerly unable to credit these statements. But it is
evident that, such things being possible, we must bow to the authority
of the Ancients, our predecessors, and apologize for having doubted
their word."

My Princess decided that the Schoolmaster should now be attached to my
person, and entrusted with the responsibility of teaching me to write
syllables, and words (should that prove possible).

The good man performed his task with reverence, and with a patience
worthy of a saint.

For my part, I made such struggles to learn that I grew thin in a way
to cause anxiety to those who loved me, and my skin at last floated
about my bones, like a mantle that is too large. But when they spoke of
interrupting my lessons I uttered such shrieks of despair that it was
not to be thought of.

I was compelled, however, to regulate my hours of study, and above all
not to omit my meals, which had often happened in the fever of learning
which had taken hold of me.

At last I was rewarded for my diligence. I was able at length to write
the beloved name of my Princess! It is true it was instantly blotted
out by the tears with which I deluged the paper!

From this moment it seemed as if veils had been removed from my
understanding. I made rapid progress, and with the greatest ease.
So much so, that my Professor was not considered to be sufficiently
learned for his position, and a celebrated Brahman was called upon to
complete my education.

I learned that all Golconda thought of nothing but me. And it was
expected that, when I should become proficient in writing, wonderful
revelations would be made by me, concerning the successive migrations
of the Royal Soul which at present inhabited my person.

But what I have written has been simply the Story of my Life, portions
of which my dear Mistress was unacquainted with.

The work was at once translated from the Hindustani, in which I had
written it, into all the languages of Asia and Europe, and sold by
hundreds of thousands.

This honour (which has excited much envy in the minds of authors whose
works were not so successful), did not inspire me with vanity.

My reward--my recompense--was _Her_ joy, and _Her_ pride: the rest of
the world was of no account to me; for all that I had achieved was
solely and exclusively for _Her_.




CHAPTER II

THE NATIVE FOREST


I was born in the forest of Laos, and regarding my youth I have
retained only very confused memories; occasional punishments
inflicted by my Mother, when I refused to take my bath, or to follow
her in search of food; some gay frolics with elephants of my own
age; excessive fear during the great storms; pillage of the enemy's
fields--and long beatitudes on the borders of streams, and in the
silent glades of the forest. That is all. For in those days the mists
rested on my mind, which later on were cleared away.

When I grew large I perceived with surprise that the Elders of the Herd
of which I was a member regarded me with disfavour. This pained me, and
I would have been glad to think that I was mistaken; but it was evident
that no matter what advances were made by me, I was avoided by all. I
sought for some cause for this aversion, and soon discovered it by
observing my reflection in a pool. _I was not like the others!_

My skin instead of being like theirs, gray and dingy, was white, and
in spots of a pinkish colour.... How did that happen? Mortification
overwhelmed me. And I formed the habit of retiring from the Herd which
despised me, and of remaining by myself.

One day when I was thus alone, sad and humiliated, at a distance from
the Herd, I noticed a slight noise in the thicket, near me. I parted
the branches with my trunk, and saw a singular being, who walked on two
legs--and yet was not a bird. He wore neither feathers nor fur; but on
his skin there shone brilliant stones, and bits of bright colours that
made him look like a flower! _I beheld for the first time a Man_.

An extreme terror seized me; but a curiosity equally intense kept me
motionless in the presence of this creature--so small that without the
slightest effort I could have crushed him, and who yet in some way
appeared to me more formidable and powerful than I.

While I was gazing at him he saw me, and instantly threw himself on the
ground, making extraordinary motions, of which I did not comprehend the
meaning, but which did not seem to me to be hostile.

After a few moments he rose and retired, bowing at every step, till I
lost sight of him.

I returned next day to the same spot, in the hope of seeing him again;
the man was there, but this time he was not alone. On seeing me his
companions, like himself, performed the same singular movements,
throwing themselves on their faces upon the ground, and doubling their
bodies backwards and forwards.

My astonishment was great, and my fears diminished. I thought the men
so pretty, so light and graceful in their motions, that I could not
tire of watching them.

After a while they went away, and I saw them no more.

One day soon after, when alone as usual I descended to the Lake to
drink, I saw upon the opposite shore an elephant who looked over at me
and made friendly signals. It flattered me that he did not seem to feel
repelled by my appearance, but on the contrary seemed to admire me, and
was disposed to make my acquaintance. But he was a stranger to me, and
certainly did not belong to our Herd.

He gathered some delicate roots, of a kind that we elephants greatly
enjoy, and held them out to me, as though to offer them for my
acceptance. I hesitated no longer, but began to swim across the Lake.

On reaching the other side I gave the polite stranger to understand
that I was attracted, not so much by the sight of the delicacies as by
the wish to enjoy his company. He insisted upon my accepting a portion
of his hospitality, and began, very sociably, to eat up the rest.

Then, after some gambols, which seemed to me very graceful, he moved
off, inviting me by his looks to follow. I did not need urging, and
we plunged into the Forest, running, frolicking, pulling fruits and
flowers. I was so delighted with the companionship of my new friend
that I took no notice of the direction in which he was leading me.
But suddenly I stopped. I saw with uneasiness that I was quite lost.
We had come out onto a plain that was strange to me, and where, in the
distance, singular objects showed against the sky--tall points the
colour of snow, and brilliant red mounds, and smoke ... things that
seemed to me not natural!

Seeing my hesitation, my companion gave me a friendly blow with his
trunk, of sufficient force, however, to show more than ordinary
strength.

My suspicions were not allayed by this blow, under which my flank
smarted; I refused to go further.

The stranger then uttered a long call, which was answered by similar
calls. Seriously frightened now, I turned abruptly towards the Forest.
A dozen elephants barred the way.

He who had so duped me (for what reason I could not imagine), fearing
the effects of my indignation, now promptly retired. He set off
running; but I was so much larger than he that it seemed easy to
overtake him. I rushed in pursuit, but just as I caught up with him I
was obliged to stop short. He had entered the open door of a formidable
stockade, made of the trunks of giant trees. It was _inside_ that he
wished to lead me, _to make me a prisoner_!.

I tried to draw back and escape, but I was surrounded by the
accomplices of my false friend, who beat me cruelly with their trunks,
and at last forced me into the enclosure--the door being at once shut
behind me.

Seeing myself caught, I uttered my war-cry, and charged the palisades,
throwing all my weight against them, in the hope of breaking through. I
ran madly round the enclosure, thrusting my tusks into the walls, and
seizing the timbers with my trunk, endeavouring to wrench them apart.
It was against the door that I strove most furiously.... But all was
useless. My enemies had prudently disappeared; they did not return till
I was exhausted, paralyzed by my impotent rage, and until, motionless,
and with drooping head, I owned myself _vanquished_!

Then he who had lured me into this _trap_ reappeared and approached
me, dragging enormous chains, which he wound around my feet. Groaning
deeply, I reproached him with his perfidy; but he gave me to understand
that I was in no danger, and that if I would be submissive I would have
no cause to regret my lost liberty.

The night came. I was left alone, chained in this manner. I strove with
desperation to break my manacles, but without success.

At last, worn out with grief and fatigue, I threw myself on the ground,
and after a time fell asleep.




CHAPTER III

THE TRIUMPHAL PROCESSION


When I opened my eyes the sun was up, and I saw, all standing around
the stockade, the elephants of the day before--but out of my reach!

They were fastened by the foot, by means of a rope which they could
have broken without the slightest effort. They were eating with great
relish the fine roots and grasses piled up in front of them.

I was too sad and mortified to feel hungry, and I looked gloomily at
these prisoners, whose happiness and contentment I could not understand.

After they had finished eating some men arrived, and far from showing
fear, they saluted them by flapping their ears--giving every sign of
joy. Each man seemed to be welcomed by one special elephant to whom
he gave his sole attention. He loosened the rope from the foot, and
rubbed the rough skin with an ointment, and then, upon a signal, the
captive bent back one of his fore-legs to enable the man to mount upon
his colossal back. I looked at all this with such astonishment that I
almost for the moment forgot my own sufferings.

And now, each man being seated upon the neck of an elephant, they, one
after another, fell into line and marched out of the enclosure, and the
gate was shut behind them.

I was alone; abandoned. The day was long and cruel. The sun scorched
me, and hunger and thirst began to cause me suffering.

I struggled no more. My legs were lacerated by the vain efforts I had
made. I was prostrate--hopeless!--and considered myself as one already
dead!...

At sunset the elephants returned, each one bearing a ration of food;
and again I saw them eat joyously, while hunger gnawed my stomach and
no one noticed me.

The night again descended. I could no longer suppress my screams, which
were more of misery than of rage. Hunger and thirst prevented me from
sleeping, even for a moment.

In the morning a man came towards me. He stopped at some distance, and
began to speak to me. I could not, of course, understand what he said
to me, but his voice was gentle, and he did not appear to threaten me.

When he had finished speaking he uncovered a bowl that he carried
filled with some unfamiliar food, the appetizing odour of which made me
fairly quiver!

Then he came near, and kneeling, held out the bowl to me.

I was so famished that I forgot all pride, and even all prudence (for
what was offered me might have been poisoned)! At any rate, I never had
tasted anything so delicious; and when the basin was empty I carefully
picked up the smallest crumbs that had fallen on the ground.

The elephant who had captured me now drew near, bearing a man on his
back; he made me understand by little slaps of his trunk that I should
bend back one of my fore-legs to allow the man who had fed me to get
upon my neck. I obeyed, resigned to anything, and the man sprang up
very lightly and placed himself near my head. Then he pricked me with
an iron--but very gently--just to let me know that he was armed, and
that he could hurt me terribly at this point, so sensitive with us, at
the least sign of rebellion.

Sufficiently warned, I allowed myself to show no impatience. Then
they removed my manacles; the other elephant took up the march, and I
followed quietly.

We left the stockade, and they led me to a pool in which I was
permitted to bathe and drink. After the privations I had suffered the
bath seemed so delightful that I could not make up my mind to leave it
when the time came; but a prick on the ear told me plainly that I must
obey, and I was so afraid of being again deprived of food and drink
that I rushed out of the water, determined to do all I was bid.

We now went towards the strange objects that I had seen in the distance
on the plain, on the day I was made prisoner. I learned later that it
was the city of Bangok, the capital of Siam. I had never yet beheld a
city, and my curiosity was so aroused that I was anxious to reach it.
As we drew near men appeared on the sides of the road, more and more
numerously, so that the way was crowded. They stood on each side of the
pathway, and to my great surprise, I at last discovered that it was _I_
whom they were expecting, and had come out to see!

At my approach they uttered shouts of joy; and when I passed before
them they threw themselves, face-downward, upon the earth, with
extended arms, then rose and followed me.

At the gates of the city a Procession appeared, with cloth of gold, and
arms, and streamers of silk on long poles.

All at once there was a noise--so wonderful that I stopped short. One
would have said it was composed of shrieks and groans, and claps of
thunder, and whistling winds, mingled with the songs of birds! I was
so terrified that I turned to escape, but found myself trunk to trunk
with my companion, who was following me. His perfect tranquility, and
the roguish wink that he gave me, reassured me, and I felt mortified to
have exhibited less courage than others before so many spectators, and
I wheeled about so promptly that the man on my head did not have time
to prick my ear.

I was ordered to stop in front of the leader of the Procession, who
saluted me, and made an address.

The great and fearful noise had ceased, but began again as soon as this
personage had finished his speech. The Procession turned around now
and preceded me, and we again moved on. I then saw that it was men who
were _making_ all this noise. They struck various objects--they tapped
them--they whistled into them--and seemed to take the greatest trouble!
That which they made was called "_Music_." I grew used to it in time,
and even came to think it agreeable. I was no longer afraid, and all
that I saw interested me, and delighted me greatly.

In the city the crowds were even denser, and the rejoicings more
noisy. They spread carpets on the route I was to traverse; the houses
were wreathed with garlands of flowers, and from the windows they threw
phials of perfume, which my rider caught, flying, and sprinkled over me.

Why were they so glad to see me? Why were all these honours showered
upon me? I, who in my own Herd had been repulsed and disdained....

I could find no reply at the time, but later on I learned that it was
the whiteness of my skin which alone was responsible for all this
enthusiasm. That which seemed to elephants a defect, seemed admirable
to men, and made me more valuable than a treasure.

They believed my presence was a sign of Happiness--of Victory--of
Prosperity to the Kingdom--and they treated me accordingly.

We had now reached a great square in front of a magnificent building
which might well cause amazement to a "wild" elephant. Often since then
I have seen this Palace, and with better understanding, but always
with the same astonishment and admiration. It was like a mountain of
snow, carved into domes and great stairways, with painted statues, and
columns encrusted with jewels, and tipped with globes of crystal that
dazzled the eyes. The tall golden points rose higher than the domes,
and in many places red standards floated, and on all of them there was
the figure of a _White Elephant_!

All the Court, in costume of ceremony was assembled on the lower steps
of the stairway. Above, on the platform, on either side of a doorway of
red and gold, elephants covered with superb housings were ranged--eight
to the right, eight to the left, all standing motionless.

They summoned me to the foot of the stair, and there I was told to
stop. A great silence fell upon all. One would have said that there was
nobody there. The crowd which had been so noisy now was mute.

The red and gold doorway was opened wide, and all the people prostrated
themselves, resting their foreheads upon the earth.

_The King of Siam appeared_.

He was borne by four porters in a pavilion of gold, in which he sat
with crossed legs. His robe was covered with jewels, and scattered
blinding rays. Before him walked young boys dressed in crimson, who
waved great bunches of feathers attached to long sticks; others carried
silver basins out of which came clouds of perfumed smoke.

I am able to describe all this now, with words which I have learned
since then; but at that time I admired without understanding, and I
felt as if I was looking upon all the _Stars of Heaven,_ and the _Sun
at Noonday_, and all the _Flowers of the loveliest Spring_--at one and
the same time!...

The bearers of the King descended the steps in front of me. His Majesty
approached. Then my conductor pricked my ear, and my companion struck
my leg with his trunk, indicating that I was to kneel.

I did so voluntarily, in the presence of such splendour, which seemed
to me as if it might burn any one who should touch it!

The King inclined his head slightly.... _THE KING OF SIAM HAD SALUTED
ME!_ (I learned afterwards that I was the only one who had ever been
honoured in such fashion. And I was soon able to return the King's
salute, or rather to anticipate it.)

His Majesty addressed me with a few words which had an agreeable sound.
He bestowed on me the name of "_King-Magnanimous_" with the rank of
_Mandarin of the First Class_. He placed upon my head a chaplet of
pearls set with gold and precious stones, and then retired to his
Palace.

The multitude, who until now had remained prostrated, now rose up, and
with shouts and cries of joy, accompanied me to my own palace, where I
was to dwell.

It was in a garden, in the midst of an immense lawn. The walls were of
sandal wood, and the great roofs extended far out on all sides; they
were lacquered in red and glistened in the sunlight, with here and
there globes of copper, and carved likenesses of elephants' heads.

I was taken into an immense Hall, so high that the red rafters which
interlaced overhead and supported the roof made me think of the
branches of my native Forest, when the sunset reddens them.

An old elephant was walking slowly about the Hall. As soon as he saw
me he advanced towards me, flapping his ears in welcome. His tusks
were ornamented with rings and golden bells, and he wore on his head
a diadem like that which the King had just placed on mine. But all
this did not improve his appearance. His skin was mottled with dingy
patches, like dried earth, and cracked in spots; his eyes and ears
were encircled with rednesses; his tusks were yellow and broken, and
he walked with difficulty. But he seemed amiable, and I returned his
courtesies.

My conductor descended from my neck, while officers and servants
prostrated themselves before me as they had done before the King
himself.

Then they led me to a huge table of marble, where in great bowls and
vessels of silver and gold were bananas, sugar-canes, all sorts of
delicious fruits, and choice grasses--and cakes--and rice--and melted
butter.... _What a feast!_

Ah! how I wished that those of my Herd who had made a mock of me could
see how I was treated by _Men_!

My heart swelled with pride, and I no longer regretted my liberty and
my native Forest.




CHAPTER IV.

ROYAL ELEPHANT OF SIAM


Prince-Formidable, for such was the name of my ancient companion,
reclining not far from me upon a bed of fragrant branches, now told me
something of his history, and also instructed me as to my duties of
Royal Elephant.

"I have been here rather more than one hundred years," said he. "I am
very old, and I am sick, in spite of the white monkeys that you see
frisking about up there in the rafters. They are kept here to preserve
us from evil diseases; but all those who were here with me in this
palace died within a few days of each other, of some ailment which they
seemed to take from each other, and I, the oldest of all of them, am
the only survivor.

"For several years I have been alone--the only White Elephant--and the
greatest anxiety has been felt in Court Circles on this account. No
others could be discovered, notwithstanding the incessant hunts which
were made throughout the forests. It was thought that great misfortunes
menaced the Kingdom, and your arrival has caused rejoicings throughout
the country."

"Why is it that they consider us so important?" asked I. "What is there
extraordinary about us? Among elephants they seem rather to despise us!"

"I understand," said Prince-Formidable, "that men, when they die are
transformed into animals; the noblest into elephants, and Kings into
White Elephants. We are therefore ancient Kings; though, for my part,
I have no recollection of having been either a man or a King." "Nor I
either," said I. "I don't remember anything at all! But is it then on
account of envy that the gray elephants dislike us?"

"No," said Prince-Formidable. "Those of us who have not lived among men
are mere brutes, and don't know anything. They think the colour of our
skin results from disease, and so consider us inferior to themselves;
while on the contrary it is really a sign of Royalty.... You see what
poor ignorant creatures they are!"

I admired the wisdom and experience of my new friend, who had lived so
long and seen so much. I never tired of asking him questions, and he
replied with an inexhaustible good nature.

To-day I am able to translate in words what he was obliged to tell me
in the very limited language of elephants. Over and over he had to
begin again and repeat; but he was never impatient, although he was
himself so superior, and had long understood the language of men.

"Attention!" said he to me, upon hearing the sound of distant
music. "Here are the _Talapoins_, who are coming to give you their
benediction." He tried to make me understand who they were, but
although I pretended out of politeness to do so, I had not in reality
the least idea of what was meant, except that it was some new honour
that was to be conferred upon me.

The _Talapoins_ had shaven heads, and their ears stood out, and they
wore long yellow gowns with big sleeves.

On entering they did not prostrate themselves--and I confess this
shocked me somewhat! The oldest marched in the centre. He stopped
before me, and began talking in a queer voice, very high and
unpleasant; then, without stopping his remarks, he took from the hand
of one of his followers a mop with an ivory handle, while another one
held a basin of water, in which he dipped the mop, and commenced to
sprinkle me in a way that displeased me exceedingly. He squirted the
water in my eyes and ears, and as it lasted longer than I thought
needful, I seized the mop out of his hand, and sousing it well in
the water I shook it over all three of them--giving as good as I had
received!

They escaped, laughing and wiping their faces with their-long sleeves,
and I gave a loud scream of triumph, to proclaim my victory, and my
satisfaction!... But Prince-Formidable did not approve my conduct--he
thought it lacked dignity.

Soon after this they came to take us to the bath. A slave marched in
front, striking cymbals in order to make way for us, and others held
over our heads magnificent umbrellas. It was in our own park that the
beautiful pond was situated, and I was allowed this time to plunge and
swim, and roll over as long as I wanted.

A repast as plentiful as it was delicious ended the day, which had
certainly been to me in every way most satisfactory.

It continued in this manner, from day to day, with the exception of the
Talapoins, who never returned.

Only one hour in the day was somewhat distressing to me. It was my
daily lesson, which I had to take each evening, before going to bed.

The man who had first sat upon my head remained my principal
guardian--my "Mahout," and he had to teach me, and make me understand
the indispensible words of command, such as "Forward," "Backward,"
"Kneel," "Rise," "Right," "Left," "Halt," "Faster," "Slower," "That's
Right," "That's Wrong," "Do It Again," "That's Enough," "_Salute the
King._"

Prince-Formidable assisted me by translating these orders to me in
elephant-speech, so that I soon knew all that was needful.

Several years passed in this way very pleasantly, but rather
monotonously. Prince-Formidable died the second year after my arrival.
They gave him a Royal Funeral and all the Court went into mourning.

For a while I was alone. Then other White Elephants came in; but the
new ones were very ignorant, and seemed sulky and rebellious in their
dispositions--so that I took but little notice of them.




CHAPTER V

THE DOWRY OF THE PRINCESS


One day my Mahout, who like all others of his class, had the habit of
making long discourses (which I finally grew to understand), came and
stood before me, as he always did when he wished me to listen.

I at once became attentive, for I saw from his agitated air that
something of importance was concerned.

"King-Magnanimous," said he, "ought we to rejoice--or ought we to
weep? Is a new life for us a good, or an evil thing? Should one dread
change, or should one welcome it? These are questions which are being
balanced in my mind, like the weights in a pair of scales! You, who are
now an elephant, but were once a King could tell me, if only you could
speak. You could tell me if the numerous transformations, the changes,
have brought you most joy or sorrow. Your wisdom could put an end
to my anxiety, perhaps; But perhaps, on the other hand, you can look
no further into the future than I; and you would say to me, "_Let us
resign ourselves to what we cannot help_, _and wait to either weep or
rejoice_, _till events prove good or ill._"... Well! so will we do. We
will resign ourselves, and wait.

"That which is about to happen you know not--and that is what I am
going to tell you.

"Our great King, _Phra, Puttie, Chucka, Ka, Rap, Si, Klan, Si, Kla,
Mom, Ka, Phra, Puttie, Chow_ (for I cannot mention the King's name
without giving him all his titles--I who am only a simple Mahout--when
the Prime Minister, himself durst not do so!)--our great King is
the father of several Princes, and also of a Princess--a beautiful
Princess--who is of a marriageable age.... _Well! that is it!_ She
is about to be married. The King _Phra, Puttie, Chucka_ has bestowed
the hand of the Princess Saphire-of-Heaven upon a Hindu, the Prince
of Golconda: and this marriage, which at first would seem of little
interest to us, is going to overturn our whole existence.

"Know, King-Magnanimous, that your glorious person is to form part of
the Dowry of the Princess. Yes! even so. Without asking your pleasure
in this affair, they have made a gift of you to a stranger Prince, who
may not have for your Majesty the respect due you.

"And I--poor Mahout--what am I without the noble elephant whom I
attend? And what is your Majesty without me?

"Therefore they have also made a gift of me, and I am now a fragment
of the royal dowry. We are bound to each other till death--we are
but one! You go where I conduct you, and I must go where you go. Oh!
King-Magnanimous, _ought we to weep or rejoice_?"

Really, I could not say. And I was greatly disturbed at what had been
told me.

To leave this life, so sweet and tranquil, but which sometimes wearied
me by its monotony and inaction.... Abandon this beautiful home so
abundantly provided with good things!... Surely this was cause for
weeping! But then, to see new countries, new cities, meet with new
adventures--that was perhaps something to rejoice at! ...

Like my Mahout, I concluded the best way was to wait--and for the
present to be resigned.

[Illustration]




CHAPTER VI


THE DEPARTURE


The day of our departure arrived, and very early in the morning the
Slaves came to make my toilet. They rubbed me all over several times
with a pomade perfumed with magnolia and santal; they placed on my back
a mantle of purple and gold, and upon my head a chaplet of pearls and
the royal diadem. They fastened heavy gold bracelets on my legs, and on
my tusks gold rings set with jewels; from each of my ears there hung
down a great tail of horse-hair, white and silky. Arrayed thus, I was
conscious of my magnificence, and longed to show myself to the People.

Still, I gave a backward glance at the Palace I was leaving, and
sounded a few notes of farewell to the elephants who were remaining,
with whom I had begun to be quite friendly. They replied by thundering
outbursts of trumpeting, the noise of which followed me for a long
way. All the inhabitants of Bangok were out, as on the day of my
triumphal entry. They were in holiday costume, and were moving towards
the palace of the King. There a splendid procession was formed and
began its march, preceded by one hundred musicians dressed in green and
crimson.

The King was seated in a howdah of gold fillagree, on a colossal black
elephant--a giant among elephants. On his right and on his left were
the Prince and Princess, on mounts of more than ordinary size.

The howdah of the Bride was enclosed by a fringe of jewels which
rendered her invisible. The Prince was young and handsome; he had a
charming expression, which at once inspired me with confidence.

I followed next after the King, conducted by my Mahout, who walked on
foot beside me. And after me came the Mandarins, Ministers, and other
high functionaries, according to rank, and mounted on elephants or
horses, followed by their servants, who carried behind each noble lord
the Tea-pot of Honour, which in Siam is an insignia of nobility, the
greater or less richness of which indicates the importance of the owner.

Then came the baggage of the Princess, consisting of numberless boxes
of teak wood, marvelously carved.

The ceremony of the marriage had already taken place, and had occupied
eight days. This was the "farewell" of the King, the Princes and the
people to their Princess, whom they were escorting to the shore, whence
she was to depart.

We stopped on the way at the richest Pagoda in the city, where they
worship a Buddha carved out of a single emerald, which has not its
equal in the world, for it is three feet tall, and as thick as the body
of a man.

After this we descended by narrow streets, traversed by bridges and
canals to the shores of the river--the broad and beautiful Mei-nam.

In the distance were seen the deep blue mountains against the brilliant
sky--the chain of "_The-Hundred-Peaks_"--the "_Rameau-Sabad_"--the
"_Hill-of-Precious-Stones_" and others. But the spectacle of the river,
all covered with shipping bearing flags, and decorated with flowers,
was incomparable!

There were great Junks of red and gold, with their sails of matting
spread out like fans, their masts carrying pennants, and their prows
rounded and made to imitate the head of a gigantic fish with goggle
eyes; all sorts of boats, sampans, and rafts, supporting tents of silk
which looked like floating summer-houses! All laden to the water's edge
with a gay and noisy crowd, and with bands of music and singers, who
played and sang by turns.

Salvos of artillery, louder than thunder, burst forth when the King
appeared, and the people gave such a deafening shout that I should have
died of fright, had I not learned by this time to permit nothing to
startle me.

The vessel which was to convey us to India lay at the wharf with steam
up, and splendidly decorated.

It was here we were to part.

The King and the Bride and Groom descended from their elephants. The
Mandarins formed a circle; and all the people kept silence.

Then the King, "_Sacred Master of Heads, Sacred Master of Lives,
Possessor of Everything, Lord of the White Elephants, Infallible, and
All-Powerful_," made a speech, while chewing Betel, which stained his
mouth crimson, and obliged him to spit frequently into a silver basin,
which was held by a slave.

The Prince, kneeling before his royal father-in-law, also made a
speech, less long--chewing nothing! The Bride wept behind her veils.

When it was time to embark there was some confusion on account of the
Princess's innumerable boxes of teak wood, and because of the horses,
whom my presence terrified greatly. A long whistle was heard; the
musicians played; the cannon boomed; a swaying movement made me feel
dizzy--and the shore receded.

All the boats followed us at first with oars and sails, but were soon
left behind. The King stood on the wharf as long as he could see us. I
was deeply moved at leaving this city, where I had at first suffered
so severely, but where my existence afterwards had been so happy and
glorious.

My Mahout, leaning against me, we both looked back. At a turn of the
river all disappeared; our eyes met, and both were full of tears.

"King-Magnanimous," said he, after a moment of silence, "let us wait
before we either weep or rejoice. Let us see what Fate has in store for
us!"

Soon the river grew so broad that the banks could no longer be seen.
The water began to move in a singular manner, and the ship also,
causing me most unpleasant sensations. Little by little we put out to
sea.... Then it was horrible! My head spun round; my legs failed me;
an atrocious misery twisted me in the stomach. I was shamefully sick,
and thought a thousand times that I was dying! I can, therefore, say
nothing of this voyage, which is the most distressing memory of my
life.

Never, never would I go again to sea--except it might be to serve
_Her_. But for any other reason I would massacre whoever should compel
me to put foot on a boat!...


[Illustration]




CHAPTER VII

THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD


The Rajah of Golconda, my new master, was called _Alemguir_, which
signifies, "The Light of the World."

He certainly did not show me the respect to which I was accustomed; he
did not prostrate himself, nor even salute me; but he did better than
either--he loved me.

From the first he spoke kind words to me, not in my quality of "White
Elephant," which is a distinction much less thought of in India than
in Siam, but because he found me intelligent, good-tempered, and
obedient--more so than any of his other elephants. He remembered me and
came to see me every day, and saw to it that I was not allowed to lack
anything.

He had changed my name from "_King-Magnanimous_" to "_Iravata_," which
is the name of the elephant who bears the God Indra. The title was
certainly sufficiently honourable, and I was easily consoled for being
no longer worshipped as an idol by the pleasure of being treated as a
friend.

Alemguir would have preferred that his Queen, Saphire-of-Heaven should
always use me as her mount; but she never would consent to install
herself on my back.... "It would be a sacrilege!" said she, "_and a
grave offence to one of my Ancestors_!"

She was persuaded that I was one of her forefathers, undergoing a
transformation for the time being.

Her husband rallied her good-naturedly upon the subject, but she would
not yield.

So he gave her a black elephant, and kept me for his own service.

I was proud to carry my Prince in promenades, in festivals, and in
Tiger hunting, which he taught me.

My life was much less indolent than in Siam, and much more varied and
interesting. My Mahout, in spite of the trouble that this stirring
existence imposed upon him also found it pleasanter than the monotony
of the old life--and as usual he confided his sentiments to me!

I was also instructed in the art of war, for during the year following
the marriage of Alemguir with Saphire-of-Heaven grave anxieties came to
darken the happiness of the young married couple.

A powerful neighbour, the Maharajah of Mysore sought without ceasing
to fasten a quarrel upon the Prince of Golconda, concerning certain
questions of boundaries.

Alemguir did all in his power to avoid hostilities, but the ill-will
of his opponent was evident, and in spite of the conciliatory efforts
of the ambassadors, a war seemed imminent. The Princess wrote to her
father, the King of Siam, who sent cannon, and a few soldiers; but the
enemy was formidable, and the apprehensions of all increased from hour
to hour.

One day the Ambassadors returned in dismay; diplomacy had failed,
negotiations were at an end, and the Maharajah of Mysore declared war.
The necessary preparations were made in haste; and one morning I was
invested with my armour. A sheathing of horn covered me and descended
below my knees; on my head was a helmet of metal, with a visor of
iron, perforated with holes for the eyes, and a point projected from
the middle of the forehead. My crupper and flanks were defended by
flexible armour, as was my trunk, which had a ridge running down the
centre armed with pointed teeth of metal; and upon my tusks were steel
casings, sharp and cutting, which lengthened them greatly and made of
them terrific weapons.

Thus accoutred, my Mahout, who was also in armour, and weighed more
heavily than usual upon my neck, guided me to the portico of the Palace
overlooking the great Courtyard, where were assembled all the chiefs of
the army. Prince Alemguir appeared at the entrance, and the officers
saluted him by clashing their arms.

He was magnificent in his warlike array. He wore a tunic of gold-linked
armour, under a light breastplate studded with diamonds; he carried a
round shield that blazed with jewels, and his helmet was gold with a
diamond crest.

Standing upon the upper steps of the portico he harangued his troops;
but as I did not then understand Hindustani I do not know what he said.

When he was about to mount, the Princess Saphire-of-Heaven rushed out
of the Palace, followed by all her women, and threw herself, sobbing
into the arms of her husband.

"Alas!" cried she, "what will become of me, separated from you? How
shall I endure the continual anguish of knowing you exposed to wounds
and death? The heir which we hoped would be born in joy and festivity,
now will enter life amid tears and despair! Perhaps he will be born an
orphan--for if the father is killed, the mother will not survive!"

I listened to this and felt my heart ache under my coat of horn.

The Prince, much affected, could hardly restrain his tears. He made an
effort, however, to master his emotion, and replied with calmness.

"Every man," said he, "owes his life to his Country; and the Prince
more than any other man. Our honour, and the welfare of our people
are more dear to us than our own happiness. We must set an example
of courage and self-sacrifice, instead of allowing ourselves to be
softened by tears.

"If the war proves cruel to me--and I die--you, my beloved Wife, will
live to bring up our Child; and hereafter we shall find each other, and
be forever happy in the life to come!"

He gently disengaged the clasp of her delicate arms. The veil of the
Princess caught on the breastplate of the Prince and was torn. The
Prince gathered a fragment, and kept it as a talisman.

And now Alemguir was in the howdah, and it was to me that the Princess
appealed, with breathless sobs.

"Iravata, thou who art strong, and who lovest thy Master, and who ought
to love me, for thou hast the soul of one of my Ancestors.... Guard the
Prince! Protect him, and bring him back to me living--for if he comes
not back I shall die!"

Speaking these words the Princess became as pale as snow, and fell
fainting into the arms of her servants.

I made a resolve in my heart to defend my Master with all my might, and
not to fail in risking my life for the safety of his.

Taking advantage of the swoon of the Princess, which made her
unconscious, Alemguir gave the signal to depart.

We left the Palace, and then the City, to join the main army, which was
encamped outside on the plains.

The Artillery and the Elephants were placed in the centre; the Horsemen
on the right and left, and the foot-soldiers in front and at the rear.

The trumpets sounded a warlike march; the drums beat; the whole army
gave a shout--and we marched on the enemy.




CHAPTER VIII

BATTLE


What a fearful thing is a battle! How terrible--how grand! It
intoxicates, and stuns you. The music, the roar of the cannon, the
firing, the shouts of the combatants; the tumult, the smoke, the
dust--excite in you a strange madness, which makes you hate the
creatures which you can scarcely see--whom you have never known, and
who, for no other reason, are filled with the same murderous rage
towards you!

At first I, who had never killed anything but tigers, shuddered at the
thought of shedding human blood. I hesitated--I avoided giving blows.
But suddenly I saw my Master in danger; a horseman was aiming at him
at close range. He had not time to fire--my armed tusks disappeared in
the belly of the horse, which I lifted high up in the air, and whose
bleeding carcass I tossed, with its rider, into the ranks of the enemy.

From that moment it was carnage where I went. I pierced. I cut. I
disembowelled all before me--making corpses of the living, and crushing
to pulp the dead under my great feet, which soon were shod with blood.

The Prince encouraged me by his voice, and pushed constantly forward.
His gun, which a soldier behind him reloaded as fast as it was
discharged, was never silent, and his aim was so sure that he never
missed. The Enemy's ranks crumbled before us. And Alemguir, full of
ardour urged me on and on! He desired to reach the Maharajah of Mysore,
who in the centre of his army directed the battle.

At last he found him, shouted defiance at him, and defied him to meet
him in single combat.

The Maharajah smiled scornfully and did not answer.

All at once my Mahout, who, being occupied with guiding me, and less
carried away by the fury of the battle, had a better opportunity
of observing the situation, cried out in a voice of horror,
"_Back!--Back!--or you are lost_!"

But the Prince continued to shout "_Forward!"_ And my Mahout could jab
my ear as much as he chose--I refused to obey!

"Prince! Prince! You are lost!" groaned the unhappy slave. "The army
of Golconda is in retreat, and we are surrounded! It is too late to
escape!"

A ball struck him. With a groan he rolled off my neck, clinging an
instant, deluging me with blood, then he fell.

Dead. He was dead!

I stopped, horrified; turning the body gently over with the tip of my
trunk--he did not move; he did not breathe; it was the end.

My poor Mahout had breathed his last so quickly--almost without pain.
This then, was what "_Fate_" had in store for _him_!

I could see him off there, at Bangok, saying so gravely to me, "Ought
we to rejoice, or weep?" Alas! he was dead; he could neither weep or
rejoice any more!...

But around me were shouts of triumph. My Master still fought.

"Take him alive!" cried the Maharajah from his elephant. "He shall die
by the hand of the executioner!"

I tried to rush forward but my feet were entangled in running knots
which they had thrown around me, and my furious efforts only drew them
tighter.

All was ended. I was taken; and my Master with me.

Poor Princess Saphire-of-Heaven! In her desolate Palace she was
suffering a thousand times more from fear and anxiety than we from our
misfortune. For her also it was _Fate_!

I could hear her sweet voice entreating me to bring back to her her
beloved husband; and behold! we were vanquished--prisoners--and the
Prince, loaded with chains, was now listening to the sentence that
condemned him to die a shameful death at dawn on the morrow!

_I_ was of value. _I_ made part of the "_spoils_." And they had no
intention of killing _me_. But I had been so terrible in battle that
they dared not come near me.

I set to thinking with all the powers of my poor, feeble mind. It
seemed as if I had best pretend to submit. I began to feel the smart of
my wounds, and the fatigue of the combat; and my heavy armour weighed
on me painfully.

I began to utter plaintive moans--as if imploring assistance from those
standing about.

One of them, seeing me so quiet, ventured to approach. I redoubled my
moans, making them very soft.

"He must be hurt," said the man. "We must look after him, and take care
of him, for he is an animal of great price!"

All drew near. They took off my armour, I helping them as well as I
could. When it was off I sank on the ground, as if exhausted.

I had received a great many wounds, but only one was of any
consequence; it was near the shoulder.

They brought a doctor who dressed my wounds. Meanwhile; I thought of my
Master, who, perhaps, was also wounded, but who was receiving no care!

I had not failed to watch him, out of the corner of my eye, without
seeming to do so, while I was performing my little comedy!

I saw that they had chained him to a stake, and that soldiers with arms
in their hands guarded him.

Grief tore my heart: and the groans that I gave were most sincere--but
it was not my wounds that caused them!

However, I feigned an indifference to my Master. I appeared to give no
thought to anything but myself. And I took pains to be so grateful to
the surgeon for his services that he was quite touched, and ordered
them to take off the running knots which were murdering my legs.

"_This elephant is remarkably gentle_," said he, "_Give him some food_
and drink, for he seems very tired and feeble--no doubt from the blood
he has lost!"

He went off to attend others; and presently they brought me a good
ration of forage; vegetables, and rice, and fresh water in a great
vessel. I thought of Prince Alemguir, who was perhaps also suffering
from thirst--and my throat grew tight!...

However, we are slaves to our enormous appetite; hunger soon subdues
and enfeebles us. I must eat, in order to be strong, and ready for
whatever was to come.

I gave myself the airs of an invalid, disinclined for food, and did not
raise myself up from the ground.

So, giving no more thought to me, they put a light rope on my foot and
fastened it to a peg, and left me.




CHAPTER IX

THE ESCAPE


Night came; fires dotted with their red flames the entire extent of the
camp; the smoke mounted straight in the tranquil air; I saw around the
camp-kettles the men crouching, their forms showing dark against the
light; then there were dances, songs, and music. They were celebrating
the victory by drinking, shouting and quarrelling; they even acted over
again their hand-to-hand struggles, which grew so furious that blood
flowed.

Then, little by little, silence fell; all was dark; a heavy sleep
weighed upon the evening of the battle!

_Then I rose up on my feet_.

There was no moon, only the great stars palpitated in the sky. I
listened; I peered into the obscurity. The tents formed little dark
hillocks, undulating away, as far as the eye could reach. No sound,
but the intermittent call of distant sentinels, who could not be seen.
Before the tent where my Master was imprisoned two soldiers in white
tunics marched slowly with guns on their shoulders. I could see clearly
their long white robes, and their muslin turbans. Sometimes the barrel
of their gun sparkled, reflecting the ray of a star.

Kill these two men? Deliver my Master? and escape with him? Would such
a thing be possible?...

The sentinels marched slowly around the prisoner's tent, walking in
opposite directions from each other, so that all sides of the tent were
constantly under observation.

How to seize them without their being able to give the alarm?...
Standing motionless in the darkness, I followed them with my eyes,
striving to understand their movements, and the different positions
they occupied while coming and going.

I observed that one soldier in crossing his companion turned his back
to me, and then disappeared behind the tent, and at the same instant
the other soldier also had his back to me, while making the circuit. A
short moment only elapsed before the first one would reappear and be
facing me.

I could not strike the two guards at one time; and if one saw me attack
the other he would have time to give the alarm, and awaken the whole
camp.

It was, then, during this one brief moment that I must act.

About twenty paces separated me from the tent, and this was an added
difficulty--shortening still more the available time during which I
would be unseen; but the attempt must be made.

I tried to undo the rope that tethered my foot. I could not succeed;
but with a single jerk I pulled up the stake to which I was attached.

I was free.

Choosing a favourable moment I took some steps towards the tent. Then I
waited for the soldiers to make another turn--and moved still nearer.
I preserved the attitude of a sleeping elephant; and they failed to
notice in the darkness that I had drawn closer.

Now was the time. I must make the attempt--at the next turn, thought I.

But my heart beat so violently that I was compelled to wait. My one
fear was that I might not succeed; then, too, I felt a repugnance to
slaying--by treachery as it seemed--these two unknown human beings. But
after all, was it not men who had set me the example of ferocity? To
save my Master I would have destroyed without remorse the entire army
of the enemy!

My self-possession returned; and it was with the greatest coolness that
I executed my plan.

The first soldier was seized by my trunk and strangled, with no sound
except the cracking of his bones. I had just thrown aside his corpse
when the other came face to face with me.

He did not cry out--terror prevented him; but he instinctively jumped
backward, and so hastily that he fell.... The unfortunate man never
rose; my enormous foot falling upon him crushed him to a bloody mass.

I drew a long breath; then I listened; in the distance could still be
heard the occasional call of the sentinels who guarded the outskirts of
the camp, of which we occupied the centre; no doubt they would soon be
relieved--and perhaps also the guards of the Prince; there was not a
moment to spare.

Yet I dared not approach my Master suddenly, lest he might utter an
exclamation of surprise.

Was he sleeping, the dear Prince, worn out with fatigue? Or was he
grieving silently over the loss of his liberty, and his life?

I was at a loss what to do; and the anguish of knowing that the moments
were slipping by made my skin creep!

All at once an idea came to me. I pulled up on one side the stakes that
held the tent, and taking the canvas by the lower edge, I turned it
half-way over, just as a strong wind might have done. There remained
nothing between us, and I saw the Prince seated on the ground, his
elbow on his knee, his head resting on his hand. He raised his head
quickly, and saw my giant form outlined against the starry sky.

"Iravata! my friend, my companion in misfortune!" murmured he.

Tears came to my eyes; but there was no time for anything of that kind!
I touched the chains of my Master, feeling them to judge of their
weight. They were nothing for me. With one blow they were broken--first
those on the feet, and finally the heavier one, which, attached to a
belt of iron, chained the Prince to a gallows.

"What are you doing? How is it that you are free?" said Alemguir, who,
by degrees, was recovering from his prostration.

All at once he understood; he sprang to his feet.

"Why! you are liberating me!--You are going to save me!"

I made a sign that it was so, but that we must be quick. Calm and
resolute now, he cast off the remnants of his shackles. I showed him
the tether on my foot, and the stake that dragged after it. He stooped
down and unfastened the cord; then I helped him to mount up on my
neck.... Oh! what joy to feel him there again! But we were far from
being out of danger.

He spoke no more. He concentrated all his attention upon directing our
flight through the darkness.

Coming out of the obscurity of the tent, he could see all the better,
and from on high he could look about him, listen to the voices of the
sentinels, and ascertain something of the arrangement of the camp, and
of its extent, and its nearest limits.

He bent forward, darting his looks in every direction; but it was
impossible to pierce the darkness for more than a hundred feet in
advance.

Avenues had been formed between the tents, which had been placed in
fairly even lines; but these pathways would naturally be guarded, and
the Prince judged it would be safer to glide behind the tents in their
confused and indistinct shadows.

Notwithstanding our appearance of heaviness, and our massive
corpulence, we have the faculty of walking as noiselessly as a cat or
a panther. A whole herd of elephants on the march, if they suspect
any danger, can avoid snapping a twig, or rustling a leaf. The most
acute hearing will fail to detect the sound of their footsteps; and
whoever sees them filing past by hundreds would take them for phantoms.
It would be quite proper to say "as _light_ as an _elephant_"--but I
imagine the idea never occurred to any one.

This peculiarity explains how I was enabled to circulate between these
thousands of tents, scarcely seeing my way, and obliged very often
to pass through an opening barely larger than my own person, without
running against, or overturning anything, and without making a noise
that would have betrayed us.

We had now reached the limits of the encampment, which were by no means
easy to pass, for they had been rapidly fortified, ditches had been
dug, and entrenchments thrown up. But the work having been hastily done
was not very solid.

The Prince leaned down close to my ear, and said to me:

"Try to break down the earth wall, and turn it into the ditch so as to
fill it up."

I understood, and went to work. The ground was still soft and yielded
readily; but I could not prevent a dull thud when it fell into the
ditch. It was a very feeble smothered sound ... and yet to me it seemed
tremendous!

At last the opening was made. I passed through, plodded across the mud
in the bottom of the ditch, and succeeded in climbing up the other side.

_We were out of the camp_, and I joyfully quickened my pace.

But a cry resounded--a cry of alarm. They had seen us in the open
space, which I was crossing now at full speed.... "Beware, Master!" I
seized him and placed him cross-wise upon my tusks, supporting him with
my trunk, and without slackening my pace. My quick ear had detected the
sound of loading guns--they were going to fire upon us; but my Prince,
protected by the bulk of my great body would be in no danger.

A sudden light flashed in the darkness; there was a rattling volley of
shots, and a shower of bullets struck my crupper. They bounded off, for
these little leaden pellets are incapable of penetrating the tough hide
of an elephant. They merely stung me like little pricks of red-hot iron.

A second discharge fell short, with the exception of a single ball
which grazed my ear, and carried off a small piece.

I ran still faster, hoping to gain the shelter of a thicket which at
least would protect us from the bullets.

Just as I reached it I heard the sound of galloping horses.

"We are pursued," said Alemguir. He had resumed his place on my neck. I
plunged into the thickest of the woods, making a pathway by the aid of
my tusks, crushing the branches under my feet. But this delayed us; it
also betrayed our course, and left an open road for our enemies.

There seemed no way of meeting this danger, and I trembled with an
anxiety that for the moment paralyzed me.

My Master, full of courage, spoke soothingly to me.

"Calm yourself," said he, "there is no cause for despair; you know how
horses fear you; if they reach us you have only to turn and fall upon
them to terrify them, and put them to flight!"

But although I could not say so in words, my thought was, _The shots
can reach my Master_!

However, I took courage, and managed to push on still faster. The day,
which comes so early in summer, began to break. A dull continuous noise
now became audible, and drowned the sound of the horses' hoofs.

"That must be a river," said Alemguir. "If we can but reach it and put
it between us and our pursuers, we shall be saved."

I raised my trunk, snuffing the air to discover the direction of
the water, and changed my course. The wood now became less dense; I
advanced more easily between the young trees and saplings which I
crushed under foot; and we soon found ourselves beside a rapid river
which flowed in the depths of a ravine. The water, which boiled in
places and ran with a dizzy swiftness, had dug for itself a bed in the
clayey soil, and flowed as it were between two walls.

"Alas!" said the Prince; "that which I hoped would be our salvation is
going to be our ruin! It will never be possible to descend to the level
of this river."

To my mind it was difficult--but not impossible. And as there was no
time to waste in reflection, I went to work at once digging the clay
with my tusks, stamping it down with my feet, and throwing it right and
left, in a way to form a sort of incline; but when I thought I might
risk myself upon it the earth crumbled away, and, sliding down the
sticky mud, I shot into the water more quickly than I had intended,
with a tremendous _splash_ that sent the water up into the air to an
amazing height. Luckily, my Master had been able to cling to my ear,
and was none the worse. So I was soon relieved, though astounded at my
sudden descent.

The current now carried us along, and I floated with it. It saved me
all exertion, and I reposed deliciously in the cool refreshing water,
which restored my strength. The Prince also was invigorated. He leaned
over several times to drink out of the hollow of his hand.

Suddenly he turned his head.

"Here come our enemies!" said he.

The horsemen, following the pathway which I had made in the woods,
had reached the banks of the river; they saw us, and riding along the
borders they started in pursuit of us.

The Prince watched them closely.

"They are taking aim," cried he, "give your _War-cry_!"

I tore up from the bottom of my lungs the most terrible yell in my
power! It was a success; and the echoes repeated it as if they would
never stop. It did not fail to produce the effect my Master expected.
The horses were terrified and reared in disorder, and the shots
scattered, without reaching us.

"We know how to defend ourselves for the present," said Alemguir;
"some of the men are unhorsed, and the others have all they can do to
control their animals."

Having my back turned, I could see nothing, but was greatly rejoiced at
what I heard.

The current continued to carry us on, and there was no way of landing
on the other side, which presented only a straight wall, while on the
side of our foes the shore was becoming less and less steep.

The soldiers of Mysore, having succeeded in quieting their steeds,
now gained rapidly upon us; but it was a peril of another kind that
suddenly alarmed me. I felt the water beginning to draw me on with
increasing swiftness, as though being attracted towards a gulf.
I struggled vigorously against the current, endeavouring to draw
backwards, but I could affect but little its course, which had become
fearful in its rapidity. The Prince shared my anxiety.

"Help me," said he, "to stand upright on your neck, so that I can see
what is this new danger."

I held up my trunk, and he leaned against it, steadying himself by
means of it.

"Don't hesitate," shouted he in a trembling voice. "Throw yourself
onto the shore where our enemies are--the river is going to fall in a
cataract down into a horrible abyss!"

I swam with all my might towards the shore; but a force greater than
mine drew me towards the fall, from which we were now distant only
about a hundred yards.

"Courage! courage!" called my Master.

I made a desperate effort, straining every muscle, and putting forth
every ounce of strength that I possessed. But I was out of breath,
stunned by the fearful roar of the cataract, now so near, and blinded
by the spray of the boiling waters.

[Illustration: TRANSPORTED WITH RAGE I RAN AT HIM, SEIZED HIM WITH MY
TRUNK AND DRAGGED HIM FROM THE SADDLE]

I felt that hope was at an end. And I was about to abandon effort when
I felt the ground under my feet. That revived me; in two strokes I was
within a few yards of the shore, standing on a bottom of solid rock, my
flanks panting with a cruel lack of breath.

[Illustration: A SPLENDID PROCESSION WAS FORMED AND BEGAN ITS MARCH. I
FOLLOWED NEXT AFTER THE KING.]

The Prince, whose limbs I could feel still trembled, stroked me with
his hand and spoke gently to me. The water ran foaming between my legs
as though they were the piers of a bridge; but it could no longer carry
me away.

The soldiers now rode up with shouts of joy, and were preparing to aim
at their ease, when "_Charge them!_" ordered my Master.

I thundered my war-cry, and rushed at them from the water, with my
trunk uplifted.

The horses took fright, plunging and seizing the bit; a number of them
ran off "ventre-à-terre."

The captain of the soldiers was furious; mastering his horse by means
of the spurs, he fired. The ball passed so close to the head of
Alemguir that it singed his hair. At this, transported with rage, I ran
at him; I seized him with my trunk, and dragged him out of the saddle.
At the shriek which he uttered his companions, instead of coming to his
rescue, left him and fled.

For a moment I balanced him in the air, like a trophy; then I tossed
him into the middle of the river, where he fell with a splash almost
as great as the one I myself had made recently.

The wretch struggled for a moment, and then was swept on and dashed
over the cataract.

[Illustration]




CHAPTER X

GANESA


The sun was shining now, and dried us with its warmth. We were saved.
And this joy compensated for all the sufferings we had endured.

The Prince dismounted; standing before me, he gazed gratefully upon me.

"Had it not been for thee," he said, "at this moment my head would be
rolling in blood!

"During our flight our safety depended on each moment as it passed--not
an instant could be spared--and I have only been able to thank thee
in my heart. But now, before this shining Sun, I desire to express
the feelings that thy devotion, thy heroism, have inspired in me. Oh!
Iravata, had it pot been for thee, Saphire-of-Heaven, in robes of
mourning, would have wept my death; without thee I should never have
lived to behold my child! My name would have been dishonoured by a
disgraceful death, my Kingdom conquered and ravaged--whereas, my life
being saved, all can be regained. And this I owe to a being whom men
deem inferior to themselves! Ah! the Princess of Siam was right. It is
indeed a Royal Soul that is hidden in thy rough body!"

I was greatly embarrassed by so much praise: and I could not make
it understood that if I had a "Soul," it was simply a good, plain,
elephant soul--all full of affection for him who had been the first to
treat me as a friend.

He stroked me softly with his hand, and gazing at me smiled kindly;
while I by all the means in my power--flapping my ears--snorting--and
shuffling my feet, expressed my delight.

"I swear to you," said the Prince, "that hereafter you shall always be
treated as an equal, and looked upon as my best friend!...

"But let us move on; our enemies may return in force, now that my
escape must be known to all."

We descended a steep hill, parallel with the waterfall, and found
ourselves in a beautiful fertile plain, through which the river, grown
tranquil and shallow, ran gently over a bed of rocks and pebbles. I
was able to wade across with ease a short distance below the cataract,
which fell, scattering itself in snowy foam, which the sunlight filled
with sparkling rainbows. Here was the leap we had so nearly taken! One
could but tremble to look at it, in spite of the loveliness with which
Nature had adorned it.

I looked for the horseman who had been dashed to pieces there, but not
a trace of him was left.

When we reached the other side we found the plain covered with fresh
grass, growing in thick tufts. My Master told me to eat.

"See! there is a fine meal for you," said he, "which you should take
advantage of at once. I am sorry that I cannot, like you, breakfast on
green bushes!... For it is a long time since I have tasted food!"

But how could I eat when he was suffering the pangs of hunger? I
continued on my way, as though I had not heard.

"I understand you well, Iravata," said the Prince. "You are refusing to
eat because I am compelled to go fasting. But this will not do. I know
the requirements of your vast stomach--those of men are more patient!"

I was above all tortured with thirst, and I drank my fill from the
river.

"_Eat_", Iravata--"your stomach being empty will not fill mine!"

I pulled off here and there bunches of leaves and grass, but without
stopping. I looked everywhere for signs of some houses or villages.

"That is useless," said the Prince, who devined my thoughts. "They
robbed me of all I had, and did not leave me a diamond, or a rupee;
and I am not yet so vanquished by misfortune as to be willing to beg!
I have only succeeded in saving my royal Signet. The idea came to me
to remove from my finger the ring on which it is engraved, and conceal
it in my mouth. But I cannot barter this Seal, which will serve to
identify me, for the sake of food. I must wait till we find people who
are capable of understanding the significance of my ring, and who will
furnish me with the means of reaching my Kingdom."

My Master was right. He could not sell his ring.

I hurried my steps to get out of this detestable prairie, which seemed
to have no end. But though I travelled on and on, the same fresh grass
and herbage surrounded us, with from time to time a few tall trees
which bore no fruit; and not a sign of any human habitation was to be
seen.

The Prince had gathered some large leaves with which to cover his head,
and protect it from the burning rays of noon, and had also placed some
on mine, knowing how the heat distresses us.

Some cultivated fields now appeared, and presently a group of giant
bamboos, and in their midst an edifice of stone, in the form of a
bee-hive.

"It is a Shrine," said Alemguir. "Let us not fail to render homage to
the God it shelters, who meets us thus on our way, before going any
further. Our prayers finished it will be well to rest ourselves in the
shade of the trees."

What a surprise when I stood before the entrance of the Chapel! The
stone God which appeared in the depths on a dais of velvet was a Man
with the head of an Elephant!

"Ganesa! the God of Wisdom!" cried the Prince. "It is no chance that
has brought us here before Him, to whom more than to all the others I
should offer thanks!"

He knelt at the foot of the altar and prayed in a low voice. During
this time I, who could not enter the small and narrow building,
examined this strange God, who on the body of a Man bore a head like
mine, and held the tip of his trunk in his right hand!

I could see the upper part of the altar which was hidden from my
Master, being above his head. There were fresh offerings in plates and
bowls--Oh! joy! Cakes, melted butter, and various fruits--enough to
feed a man for three days!

My trunk reached the Altar. As the Prince finished his prayers I
placed, one after another, the plates and dishes before him.

"Offerings!" cried he. "Certainly I would not venture to take them
notwithstanding my extreme need; but offered by _thee_ I may not
refuse; it seems as if the God himself bestowed them on me.... And
perhaps thou art, thyself, _Ganesa_!"

I was not "Ganesa" but a very happy elephant. My Master ate; and there
grew in this place all sorts of grasses and plants that were quite to
my taste.

We slept during the hot hours of the day; and later we reached an
inhabited place, which was evidently near, judging from the fresh
offerings, and also from the odours which my acute sense of smell
detected in the air.

It all seemed delicious, after what we had endured; and if it was,
indeed, Ganesa who had helped us out of all our troubles, as the Prince
seemed to think, I felt disposed to thank him most devoutly--and
even to pray to him daily. For if it is possible for us to have a
God--certainly it is Ganesa who should be the God of all Elephants....

[Illustration]




CHAPTER XI

WE ARE TAKEN FOR ROBBERS


Various adventures befell Prince Alemguir and myself at Beejapoor,
which was the first city to be reached after leaving the chapel of
Ganesa, and where we were obliged to remain several months.

The English (the real masters of India) were in great numbers in
Beejapoor, which contained the Residence of a Governor.

While here we were secure from any hostile act on the part of the
Maharajah of Mysore, himself an English subject, and permitted to
retain his sovereignty only by payment of a tribute; but other dangers
threatened us; first of all, _my Master was taken for a thief!_

Seeing him wan, emaciated, almost naked, stripped of everything, his
wrists and ankles scarred with the marks of chains, they would listen
to nothing he said.

They suspected him of having escaped from prison--and what they accused
him of stealing was nothing other than _myself_!

They were about to confiscate me, and separate us, but upon their
venturing to lay hands on me my scream of rage scattered and sent
flying both the police agents and the idlers that had gathered about,
like a flock of sparrows!

The constables returned later, and finally agreed that the unknown
stranger might possibly be the owner of the elephant, but he must go
before a Magistrate, and make explanations, and the matter would then
be decided.

I placed my Master upon my tusks, as I had done once before to protect
him from the enemy's bullets, and carrying him thus, to the great
astonishment of the crowd, I followed the police agents.

The Magistrate, notwithstanding the evidence, put us through various
tests, in order to assure himself that the fugitive was really my
owner; but concluded that even if such were the case it did not prevent
him from being a dangerous person--a possible "_spy_"--or secret
emissary of conspirators--and that he had best be lodged in jail.

Alemguir repeatedly demanded to be brought before the Governor of
Beejapoor, to whom he could explain his situation; but the Governor was
absent on a hunting expedition, and days passed without his return.

The Prince would have endured all these trials with fortitude had not
his mind been tortured by the thought of Saphire-of-Heaven, who might
be dying of grief and anxiety.

The retreat of the Army had doubtless made her aware of the defeat and
capture of her husband. But since then she had heard nothing. She might
suppose him killed, and might refuse to survive him....

The Governor finally returned, and the Prince at once claimed an
audience of him.

Sir Percy Murray was a tall, thin man, with a white beard and bright,
pleasant, blue eyes--very affable in manner, and with an air of
frankness and good humour.

After the Prince had informed him who he was, and had shown him his
Royal Signet-ring and recounted his misfortunes and adventures, the
Governor expressed regret at the annoyances which his own over-zealous
subordinates had caused during his absence, and invited him to be his
guest at "Jasmine Cottage" in the suburbs of the city.

My Master urged that he be supplied with the means of returning at once
to Golconda, where his absence might occasion disasters; but Sir Percy
Murray, in spite of his civilities could not (so he said) allow an
unknown person to leave without being assured of his identity; he would
be blamed in high places--"and might even forfeit his position"--said
he!

But he advised Alemguir to write to his wife and direct her to send
some well-known residents of Golconda, and if possible an English
witness, to come and identify the Prince; and this done, if he proved
to be the person he claimed to be, he would at once be set at liberty.

While awaiting the arrival of the envoys the Governor of Beejapoor
made every effort to entertain the Prince agreeably. His hospitality
was most cordial; his family, numerous and full of gayety and good
spirits joined him in offering open-air festivals, receptions and
balls. And my Master, if not diverted, was at least much interested by
the customs, so new to him, of English Society.

At last the messengers returned with a letter from Saphire-of-Heaven,
and accompanied by the Uncle of the Prince, and several friends, who
wept over him for joy, as they had recently done for sorrow.

Alemguir, treating me as a friend, as he always did, came and read to
me the letter of the Princess, and announced that we were to leave the
next day.

"If it were possible for you to travel by rail-road," added he, "we
could arrive the same evening; but it would be difficult, and it might
cause you distress!..."

So that I was not asked to go by _Sea_, I was willing to travel in any
sort of way--and I made my Master understand that I was quite ready to
go by train, so it was settled in that way.

I was installed in a great open car, the floor covered with a thick
bedding, and with an awning overhead; and I was assisted to mount by
means of a broad gang-plank placed at an easy incline.

One would have supposed that they had never before seen an elephant
take a train, for there were a lot of boobies on the platform who had
come to see me embark.

The Prince advised me to lie down so as to avoid the jolting as far as
possible. And after bidding farewell to the Governor and the English
officers who had escorted him to the station, he entered his carriage,
and the doors were closed.

A whistle sounded, and the train started. Not being used to travelling
in a carriage the motion caused me a slight vertigo--but nothing
to compare with the abominable agonies of the voyage from Siam to
Ceylon; and the thought of arriving before night filled me with joy,
and enabled me to endure with patience my discomfort, while with
increasing rapidity we ran, full speed towards Golconda....


[Illustration]




CHAPTER XII

PARVATI


During our absence a little Princess had been born in the Palace of
Golconda.

Alemguir, overflowing with joy, brought her to show me, in her baby
robes of lace.

What a darling she was! How pretty, and fragile.... She was like a
Flower!

Her little hand held a golden rattle, and round her neck was a string
of great pearls that looked like drops of frozen milk.

They had called her _Parvati_, which is the name of a Goddess. I
was filled with deep emotion at the sight of her. My heart beat
violently.... But I could only express my feelings by awkwardly
shuffling from one foot to the other.

Saphire-of-Heaven had been at the point of death, and they had
concealed from her the reverses of the army, and the defeat and capture
of her husband, the Prince. She had learned at one and the same time
of the dangers he had encountered, and of his present safety. And the
anticipation of seeing her husband so soon had aided her convalescence.

When she learned the part I had played in his escape, she came solemnly
to thank me. To my great embarrassment she knelt before me, and did me
homage, as they had done in Siam. Then she declared that, as my poor
Mahout had been killed in battle, I should never have another, but
should only be waited on by servants, having shown an intelligence so
superior as to make it unnecessary to exercise control over me.

I was hereafter to be allowed complete liberty, in the Park, and
throughout the Domain, both in the city and in the country, whenever I
chose to walk out by myself.

Then began for me a most delightful existence. I felt as if I had
been elevated to the dignity of a human being! And the sense of
responsibility attached to this new condition inspired me with
the resolve to avoid at all times giving trouble, or creating
disturbance--and of proving myself worthy of the trust reposed in me.

Oh! what pleasure to leave the city, and go out into the fields and
on to the forest!--and to roam freely under its branches, treading
the underbrush, pulling up the young trees, as of old, without being
obliged to consider and restrain my motions, as I was forced to do so
often in surroundings that were too small for my stature.

I was able now to use some of my extra strength, and this rested and
soothed me delightfully....

But after a few hours I began to feel how impossible it would be for me
to endure the former solitude--how superior to myself I had become; and
how entirely weaned from savage life.

A restlessness would seize me, a desire to see my Masters--my Friends,
rather!... A fear of being lost, abandoned--of not being able to find
my way back came upon me.

I would hasten towards the city, relieved as soon as I saw the walls
of Golconda--its domes, the colour of snow--its slender minarets,
more beautiful than the palms of the forest! Once inside the walls,
I loitered about the streets, sauntering through the bazaars, where
everyone took pains to offer me something good.

Then I would enter the Palace, and my first thought was always to seek
the little Princess Parvati. I would find her surrounded by her nurses
and maid-servants, among gardens of jasmine and roses, and I would
stand and watch her from a distance, absorbed in delighted admiration.

Slowly I watched her bloom, from day to day, from month to month; soon
she was able to roll about on the flowery lawn, and walk, on hands and
feet, like a young animal; then she stood up and began to take her
first steps among out-stretched arms....




CHAPTER XIII

MY PRINCESS


One day--a day that is a burning point in my memory--the little
Princess was rather more than a year old, and was able to run and jump
finely; it was a short distance from a pretty lake bordered with lotus
blossoms of all colours; her governesses were playing checkers, seated
on rugs under the trees, while Parvati ran from flower to flower,
chasing a splendid butterfly.

I followed her with my eyes, interested in the pursuit. The brilliant
wings escaped her continually, fluttered on, and lighted further off;
she grew impatient, and more and more eager in the chase, following
the thousand zig-zags of the beautiful pink and blue butterfly, which
seemed like a winged flower.

To my mind the little Princess was straying too far away, and
approaching dangerously near the borders of the lake.

Why did they not call her back?

I looked over at the women. Two of them were playing checkers; all the
others were watching the game, bending over the checker-board, and
arguing about it with great volubility; they were completely absorbed,
and not one was giving attention to her whom they were employed to
watch over.

Trembling with indignation, I was about to run to them and upset their
checker-board, when I beheld Parvati on the very brink of the water,
and still running forward--the butterfly had lighted on a lotus. I was
paralyzed with anguish, but not for long; for in an instant the little
Princess had fallen, without a splash, or a cry that might have aroused
attention.

In three bounds I was at the spot where she had disappeared among the
lotus and the nenuphars. I groped and rummaged in the water with my
trunk among the matted stems.

A cloud of mud rose from the bottom, obscuring everything, and the next
few seconds seemed to me horribly, horribly long.

All the women now rushed up, uttering deafening cries, wringing their
hands and tearing their clothing. It was high time truly!--but much
good did it do! I would have been glad to throw them all into the
lake....

At last I found and grasped the poor little Princess, and raised her,
unconscious, and as if dead--dripping, and covered with black mud.

The governesses attempted to take her away from me in order to conceal
their fault; but I was resolved it should be known, and, paying no
regard to their clamours, I started to run to the palace.

It was a reception day; Saphire-of-Heaven was in the great Hall of the
Throne, surrounded by courtiers and the Ladies of her suite. I entered
without ceremony, interrupting the conversation, and the dances of the
Bayaderes, and going straight to the Queen, I laid on her knees the
child, all covered with mud, and without breath or motion.

Saphire-of-Heaven at first could not understand what had happened, and
was about to throw off the black mass which was saturating her dress,
but suddenly _she recognized Parvati_:

"My Daughter!" exclaimed she, "and in what a condition! Dead, perhaps!"

A physician was present and advanced.

"Calm yourself, your Majesty," said he, "It is only a fainting fit."

He took the child, removed its wet clothing, gave orders, and all
present hastened to busy themselves in services to the little Princess.

The governesses had entered all in confusion behind me. They now
undertook to explain matters, all talking together, with protestations,
adjurations, and tears--it was totally incomprehensible....

"Be silent," said the Queen; "Do not speak except to answer my
questions!"

She then began to interrogate the women.

"The Princess Parvati fell into the lake," said one sobbing. A negress
added:

"It was the White Elephant who pushed her in."

I gave her on the instant such a blow on the back with my trunk that
she fell to the floor.

"That woman has lied," said Saphire-of-Heaven. "Send all of them to
prison. We shall soon learn the truth. For the present I must think
only of my Daughter!"

In spite of the tears and supplications of the women, their arms were
bound with silk cords, and they were removed, while the Negress was
carried out on a stretcher.

Parvati, now revived, bathed, and wrapped in a veil of gold gauze lent
by one of the Ladies, was replaced on the lap of the Queen.

The little darling seemed quite surprised at finding herself there, and
did not appear to remember anything that had happened. She gazed at the
smiling guests with her beautiful eyes opened wide under their long,
black lashes, then shyly, she threw her arms around her mother's neck
and hid her face on the Queen's breast.

She was not dead--not even hurt. What joy! I shuffled my feet, and
teetered foolishly from side to side, and flapped my ears, having no
other way of expressing my satisfaction.

"Iravata," said the Queen, stroking my forehead with her gentle hand,
"We will find out what has happened, and you shall assist us in doing
so. Never, never could I doubt thee, or believe that thou hadst been
guilty of a wicked action. Perhaps it will prove that I shall again
have to thank thee; it may be that I owe to thee the life of my
Daughter, as I already owe that of my Husband!"

It was true; without me our lovely little flower would have been
lost! If I had unfortunately been away from the palace at the moment,
wandering in the forest, or in the bath, or eating a meal--or even
absent-minded, and looking in another direction, it would have been
a dead little girl that would have been taken out of the water. I
shivered at the thought! and made up my mind never to lose sight of her
again, and for this purpose I determined to give up my excursions, and
my trips outside of the city.

The disturbance in the palace had attracted the notice of the King,
and it had been impossible to conceal from him the accident which had
happened to the Princess. He came in, much agitated; but Parvati ran to
him, laughing, and quite recovered, delighted with the long golden veil
in which she was wrapped, and which trailed behind her, making a noise
on the carpet!

After having tenderly embraced his daughter, Alemguir asked for details
of the accident, and as no one could furnish any, he directed that a
search be made at once of the locality where it had occurred.

"Iravata," said he, "conduct us to the spot."

I obeyed immediately. The King, who carried Parvati in his arms, the
Queen, and all the guests followed me, deeply interested.

Having reached the borders of the lake, I showed the King the
overturned checker-board, and all the pieces scattered about, as when
the game was interrupted. But they failed to understand what this had
to do with the Princess having fallen into the water.

They examined with much emotion the spot where she fell--the broken
lotus flowers, and the turf all trampled by my feet.

[Illustration: PARVATI RAN TO HIM, LAUGHING AND QUITE RECOVERED]

But all this explained nothing. _Who_ was the guilty one? _Who_ should
be punished?

The women were brought again and questioned. But they continued to lie,
making statements that were contradictory, but all accusing me.

"He came past us like a hurricane, terrifying us to death! The Princess
was running on before him, and he pushed her into the lake."

"And then," inquired Alemguir, "who rescued her?"

"We did--we did: but the Elephant snatched her away from us and ran to
the palace!"

The Prince looked at me, and I made a sign that this was not so.

"Let them be beaten till they are ready to speak the truth."

At once there was a concert of shrieks, which redoubled in shrillness
when the slaves appeared armed with thongs of leather.

The King gave the word: the slaves seized, each one, a woman, threw
her onto her knees, and administered a blow with the lash. One was
sufficient to loosen their tongues and it was a race to see which
could tell the story first.

"I am listening," said the King, and he designated the one who should
be spokeswoman.

"Have mercy upon us, oh Mighty King," said she: "_we are guilty_! This
is what happened: Annanta was playing a game of checkers with Zobeide,
and the game turned out very extraordinary. We were all looking on,
interested in spite of ourselves, but at the same time keeping watch
over the dear Princess, who was gathering flowers and bringing them to
us. Unfortunately, we were tempted to make wagers, and at the decisive
moment our attention was entirely absorbed by the progress of the game.
His Lordship, the White Elephant, had been standing for a long time
looking through the bushes. All at once with a terrific roar he rushed
through, tearing apart the branches, trampling the flowers, and ran
towards the lake, from which after a moment he lifted the Princess."

The King approached me with tears in his eyes.

"Thou art verily our Good Genius, oh Iravata!" said he; "after saving
me from a shameful death, thou hast now restored to me my daughter!
Certainly there is not anywhere upon earth a _man_ to whom I owe such a
debt of gratitude, as to thee. Let those miserable women be sent away
in exile," added he. "So much for the punishment of the Guilty; but how
to recompense worthily the Rescuer?"

I would have been glad to be able to speak, and say that no reward
could be more to me than the happiness of seeing them all alive, and of
being allowed to live near them.

Saphire-of-Heaven shed floods of tears kneeling at the edge of the
watery gulf that had so nearly deprived her of her child. All at once
she rose, took Parvati in her arms, and held her out towards me.

"Oh, thou! my unknown Ancestor! Thou who so evidently protects us,
accept the guardianship of my Daughter; I confide her to thee; thou
only shalt watch over her, and in that way anxiety and dread will no
longer afflict my heart!"

The little Princess Parvati to be mine! Mine this exquisite human
flower whom I loved above all else! It was I who was to protect and
watch over her, and be always near her! It filled me with enthusiastic
delight, and I gave such a formidable blast of the trumpet that all the
guests trembled.

I stopped short, ashamed and distressed, lest my beloved little one
might have been frightened, and not care to have me for a guardian.
But no, quite the reverse; she laughed and clapped her little hands
together, crying:

"More--_more_!"

So to please her I trumpeted again--but this time rather less
violently!




CHAPTER XIV

ELEPHANT GAMES


What a paradise for me were the years during which I was the Slave of
that Child!

She accepted me at once, and a sympathy and understanding that was
extraordinary existed between us. She was beginning to talk, and
from her, with no trouble at all I learned Hindostani; till then an
interpreter had been attached to my service, with no other duty than
that of translating into Siamese such words as it was necessary for me
to understand. I had, of course, remembered a few--but very few--and
rarely an entire sentence; but with Parvati, who was, herself, slowly
but surely acquiring a _language_--I acquired it too.

I was the one to whom she talked most, and whenever I failed to
understand her she would go obstinately over and over the same words.
Generally it was about some new play that she had in her mind. With a
playmate like me you can imagine that the games were far from usual!
"Swing me!" she would say.

Then I would bend my trunk inward a little, so as to form a sort of
living arm-chair, which would support her lightly and prevent her from
falling, and swing her gently back and forth. Her laughter was like a
shower of pearls, but she was never satisfied.

"Harder! Harder!" she would cry, and I quickened the motion and sent
her higher and higher, until, when I felt it was becoming dangerous, I
stopped.

Then she would get angry and try to beat me. But her tender little
hands hurt themselves on my rough skin, and she would stop, ready to
cry, and say:

"Hateful thing! You prick me!"

To comfort her I would stroll towards the fountain, and she would
follow clapping her hands....

"Oh, yes--yes, make the water-spout."

This consisted in drawing up an enormous quantity of water (we are
capable of holding in our stomachs an incredible amount), and of
raising my trunk and spouting it out in sprays, jets, and showers. The
sun shining on the little drops made them sparkle with all the colours
of the rainbow.

With uplifted head and with ecstatic eyes, Parvati would look on. She
did not laugh nor exclaim, but said gravely:

"That is beautiful!"

Her one fixed idea was to get on my back and go for a promenade. But a
fall from such a mountain as I would have been terrible for her, and I
opposed a firm resistance.

At the same time I studied how I might find a way of gratifying her
with safety.

After much reflection I thought of something. I pulled a number of
pliant flexible reeds, and with great effort and much patience, I
managed to twist them together in a manner to form a kind of basket
or hammock which could hang from my neck, and in which I carefully
placed my little Princess. In this way it was as if she were resting
on my heart, and I could watch over her, shelter her from the sun, and
protect her from any danger.

She was enchanted with my invention, and Saphire-of-Heaven was equally
pleased; only the Queen ordered my shapeless work replaced by a more
complete and perfect construction. The promenade now became one of our
favourite pastimes.

We went all about the city, under trees that shaded fountains of
porphry.

The Brahmans who passed in their shining white robes, murmured a
benediction on the daughter of their king; the cavaliers whom we
met riding on horses whose manes were braided and decorated with
fringes, or mounted on elephants richly caparisoned, saluted her with
affectionate smiles; the noble ladies stopped their litters drawn by
white oxen to speak a few words with her. But what most pleased her was
the People, who shouted with joy, when they saw her coming, suspended
like a Pearl from my neck! The merchants, the blacks, who all greeted
her with acclamations--and above all the children, the crowds of
little friends, for whom she was like a Fairy Queen.

We stopped before the temple of Vichnu which rises like a great
bee-hive of stone against the blue sky. And in a moment we were
surrounded by a world of little children, half dressed, and running
bare-footed in the dust, laughing, screaming, and making a joyous and
deafening noise.

The Princess leaned forward, and, holding up her little hand, imposed
silence upon her subjects. They became instantly mute, and ranged
themselves in a circle about us.

"Which of you has been good?" inquired she with a majestic air.

"Me ... Me ..." the entire assembly replied invariably with one voice!

"If you tell lies Brahma will know it, and Allah too, and you will be
whipped!"

"No! No! _Very_ good!" was the answer on all sides.

"Well then, we will go to the Bazaar!"

At this the shouts began louder than ever, and like a cloudy of
sparrows, as soon as I moved on, all the little urchins jumped and
capered around us in the dust; some of the boys went so far as to turn
summersaults, a performance which it must be admitted enchanted the
Princess.

A purse filled with rupees was attached to one of my tusks, and we
bought at the Bazaar all sorts of dainties and pretty things.

Each child, after pondering deeply--usually with its finger in its
mouth--announced what it would best like to have; mangoes, bananas,
oranges, sherbet, pastry-cakes, preserves, or perhaps a necklace
of "vamba" beads as red as coral, bracelets of enamelled clay--a
parasol--slippers; some asked for a tunic, or a veil of muslin....

I, myself was never forgotten. I also was expected to choose what I
would like, and I always selected a pastry-shop, where my appetite was
allowed full sway. I gobbled pies, cookies, cream-cakes, biscuits,
buns--the entire stock. I was terribly ashamed of my greediness, but
could not restrain myself. I was the one whose tastes were the most
expensive!

[Illustration: "WHICH OF YOU HAS BEEN GOOD?" SHE INQUIRED]

The change for the last rupee I scattered in a shower, and while the
little ones were engaged in picking up the bits of money we left.

Sometimes they ran after, and rejoined us. Then they formed a ring and
joined hands in a gay dance, holding us captive in their happy circle.

Parvati in her basket would stir restlessly: she longed to get down and
mingle in the dance, but her dignity of Princess forbade such a thing.
When I suspected that her feet were getting the better of her, I broke
through the circle with a stern motion, and carried her rapidly away.




CHAPTER XV

SCIENCE


The education of Parvati had begun, to her great displeasure--and to
mine. For long hours she had to listen to the Brahmans, instead of
playing with me, or going to harangue the happy little vagabonds of
the city. Music, dancing, poetry, writing--it was all terrible! and I
could hear my beloved weeping--screaming--stamping, in the midst of her
respectful but stern teachers.

I stood at the door of the schoolroom, helpless, with drooping head,
replying with groans to the furious outcries of the rebellious pupil.

Sometimes she escaped, all in tears, and ran towards me, encircling my
trunk with her little arms, and crying:

"Take me away! Let us run to the forest, away from the wicked Brahmans!"

But the head Brahman in his white robe would appear, and hiding a
kindly smile under an outward appearance of severity, take the naughty
girl away from me....

At last she obtained permission to learn her lessons in the basket
hanging from my neck, while I walked slowly along under the trees of
the park.

I remember especially a Fable which gave us a great deal of trouble to
learn, the birds and the butterflies so distracted our attention during
those hours of Study! But we succeeded at last, and if I could only
have spoken I could have prompted the little Princess many a time when
she made mistakes in her recitations.

It was a very pretty Fable and was intended to teach us that one cannot
be too cautious in this life. And, as I still remember it, I will give
myself the pleasure of writing it down from beginning to end, without
the least fear of making any mistake. It was called:

_The Crane and the Crawfish_

In a beautiful forest there was a great Pool, inhabited by all kinds
of fish; on its banks a Crane had her dwelling. This Crane was old,
and could no longer catch the Fish to feed on them. Therefore, with
a throat contracted by hunger, she stood on the edge of the Pool and
wept; she moistened the ground with her tears, which glistened like
innumerable pearls.

Standing on one slender leg which looked like the stalk of a flower,
and with her neck curved downwards, the sly Crane deceived the silly
Fish, who took her for a Lotus.

Now, a Crawfish, accompanied by many others of the Water-people,
approached, and pitying the distress of the Crane, inquired
respectfully:

"Friend, why is it that you are not, as usual, seeking your dinner, and
why do you utter these tearful sighs?"

"My child," said the Crane, "what you have observed is true. I do,
indeed, make my dinner ordinarily of fish, but behold! I have renounced
all appetite for food, and intend to let myself die of starvation; so
that no matter how near they come to me I shall never eat fish again!"

When the Crawfish heard this she said:

"Friend, what is the reason for this renunciation of all appetite?"

"My child," said the Crane, "I was born and brought up on the borders
of this Pool. I have learned that a terrible calamity threatens it; an
absence of rain for twelve years is about to occur."

"How did you learn this?" asked the Crawfish.

"An eminent Astrologer informed me," replied the Crane. "Alas! this
Pool is shallow, it holds but little water, and will soon be empty;
and when it is dry all those with whom I grew up and played, will
perish for lack of water. I have not the courage to witness such a
catastrophe. That is why I am fasting thus, until death takes place;
and I weep to think that not one of you will escape!"

When the Crawfish heard this she repeated to the other inhabitants
the words of the Crane; and all the Fishes, the Tortoises, and other
Water-people felt their hearts quake with fear and anguish.

They all gathered around the Crane and cried:

"Friend, is there no way of saving our lives?"

"There is," said the Crane, "not far from here, a fine Lake full
of deep water, and embellished with quantities of lotus. Even if
Pardjania, the God of rain, should refuse to permit showers to fall for
twenty years, that Lake would not become exhausted. If, therefore, any
of you care to mount up on my back, I will carry you to that Lake."

Now the Fishes had confidence in these words, and assembled from all
sides, calling out:

"Take me!... Take me!... Me first! Me first!"...

The wicked Crane made them climb one after another onto her back, then
she flew towards a great Rock situated a short distance off, and threw
them all down on it--and devoured them at her ease.

"Friend," said the Crawfish, "it was with me that you had your first
friendly conversation--why do you leave me behind, and take the
others? Will you not save my life along with the rest?"

When the wicked Crane heard this, she thought to herself, "I am tired
of eating fish, so to-day I will take this crawfish for a change!"

So she allowed the Crawfish to mount on her back, and began the journey
to the Rock of sacrifice.

The Crawfish saw from a distance a great pile of bones on the Rock. She
recognized them as the remains of the Fishes, and asked the Crane:

"Friend, how much further is this Lake? Are you not fatigued by my
weight?"

"Crawfish," replied the Crane, "what makes you think that there is
another Lake? I invented it, in order to preserve my life. Now then,
call upon your tutelar Divinity--for I am going to throw you down on
the Rock, and eat you!"

But no sooner had she finished speaking than her neck, which was as
white and as tender as a lotus stem, was seized and pinched by the
claws of the Crawfish--and her life was ended.

The Crawfish then bit off the neck of the Crane, and quietly returned
to the Pool.

"Oh, Crawfish! Why have you come back?" asked all the Water-people on
seeing her. "Has anything happened? And where is the Crane? Why has not
she returned? We are disappointed at not seeing her!"

When they had spoken thus the Crawfish laughed, and said:

"Fools that you are! The deceitful Crane has betrayed all the Fish, and
has thrown them all onto a Rock not far from here, and eaten them. Fate
decreed that my life was to be spared, and I discovered her treachery,
and cut her throat. You need have no further anxiety; we Water-people
will now be able to live happily hereafter...."

Now, I think that was a very nice Fable.




CHAPTER XVI

FINE CLOTHES


Alas! Parvati was growing up. She was as beautiful as the Sun, and as
pretty as the Moon; but she was no longer the playful child who cared
for nothing so much as to be with me.

She was now a real Princess, and her mother instructed her in all the
rules of etiquette and the ceremonies of the Court.

Her toilet occupied her a great deal--she, who till now had thought
nothing of tearing her tunics on any bramble!

As I was privileged in every way and allowed to do as I pleased, I
rarely left the neighbourhood of the pavilion in which she lived, and
almost always contrived to keep my Princess in sight, through one or
the other of the large windows, or else on the verandahs embowered in
flowers.

It chanced very often in this way that I was permitted to watch-the
labours of the dressing-maids (though I could not see why they took so
much trouble to embellish a beauty which was already so perfect).

The slaves would bring water from the Ganges, in which they bathed
Parvati; they showered her with "_santal_," and powdered her with
safran, which gave her the appearance of a golden statue. Then they
threw over her a "sari" (which is a thin garment, as light as a mist),
and she sat down cross-legged on a purple velvet cushion. Then the
hairdressers came forward; and her hair, which was as dark and shining
as a river of night, was divided into two portions and combed, and
perfumed, and ornamented with pearls and jasmine flowers. Next they
stained the palms of her hands and the soles of her feet a beautiful
reddish orange-colour with "_mendhi_"; she nibbled a bit of "_betel_"
to darken the colour of her gums; her long eyes and thick eyebrows were
blackened with "_surmeh_," and her rosy lips were tinted blue with
"_missi";_ on her ankles were fastened little bells attached to golden
rings; a golden girdle encircled her waist, and they loaded her neck
and arms with necklaces and bracelets.

Arrayed in this way I could hardly recognize her; she seemed so
majestic, so dignified--so different from herself, that it saddened me
a little with the feeling that she was growing away from me.

And now when we went out she was no longer reclining in the basket
against my heart; she was mounted on my back, installed in a sumptuous
"howdah" with double bell-towers of gold and curtains of pale green
silk.

Still she would not permit a servant to accompany us, nor any of her
suite. Freedom, and my companionship were still what she liked best.

"Do you know, Iravata," said she, "when my slight form is carried
by your colossal strength, I feel as if I were a Goddess! I feel
inaccessible, like the blue God Vichnu, and invincible, like the hero
Rama! I seem made so great by thy power, and devotion, and courage,
that my pride is exalted, and I feel as if on a throne--like the
primitive Lotus that supports Brahmah. But when I dismount how
humiliated I feel at being only a poor little princess, obliged to walk
on the ground!"

On hearing this I was so pleased that I had to shuffle my feet, flap my
ears, and utter little grunts of satisfaction!

We no longer strolled about the city, frequenting the public places,
and the fountains, as in the old times. I promenaded the streets with a
solemn dignified step; but, once outside of the city gates, I quickened
my pace and sought the Forest.




CHAPTER XVII

THE ABDUCTION


One day a most culpable idea came into my head. Parvati had for
some time past shown herself extremely irritated by the constantly
increasing demands of her position as Princess; by the Receptions, the
Parades, the long dissertations of the Brahmans upon the present and
the future Life, and the interminable Poems, recited in a monotonous
voice by the court Poet in reference to the most insignificant events
that occurred at the palace.

"Oh!" said she, "to be free! to be only a simple mortal! To do only
what one likes to do! without being obliged to wear a mask, and force
oneself to smile, when one feels like weeping--or to be solemn, when
one wants to laugh!"...

To be free! I also thought of it during the long days when I was
deprived of her companionship.... Well! It was easy enough! We had but
to steal away to the depths of the forest, and never return!

I refused to consider the wickedness of such a scheme. I repelled all
the objections that might have suggested themselves, and one day,
leaving the palace of Golconda as if for an ordinary promenade, I was
firmly resolved never to return to it.

I gained the forest more quickly than usual, and pushed on to portions
far beyond those where we had previously ventured.

At this distance I felt safe. I was quite sure they could not pursue
us, for it had not rained for a long time, and the dry ground showed no
trace of my enormous feet. Still, in order to make sure, I marched for
half an hour along the bed of a shallow stream, to throw the dogs off
the scent, and when I again stepped onto the ground I felt confident
that I was now, indeed, to be for a long time alone with my dear little
Princess Parvati.

At last I had quitted that Court where everything combined to separate
me from my little friend--ceremonies, etiquette, the great festivals,
and the thousand demands of the toilette, which occupied her at all
hours of the day, in order that she might never appear in public twice
in the same costume.

Now, there would be no more of all that. She was going to live quietly
and happily in the forest, like a little Hermit, served and waited on
by a great White Slave! And I would take such good care of her--serve
her so devotedly--with such thoughtfulness, such affection, such
love!...

She was so light on my back that I did not feel her any more than if
she had been a green fly, or a little blue-bird that had lighted on my
rough skin. But I could hear her singing--and her voice delighted me.
She was singing a very long and very beautiful song which one of her
Maids of Honour had taught her; it was called the "_Gita Govinda_" and
I think she did not understand it very well, but she liked it all the
better on that account.

From time to time I raised my trunk and she clasped the tip in her
little fingers, and laughingly "shook hands" with me! She was delighted
with this excursion, for it was the first of the kind she had taken.
Of course, she had heard of the deep parts of the forest, filled with
bright flowers, and she knew that she had not been allowed to come here
for fear some heavy fruit might fall on her from a tree, or a venomous
serpent dart out upon her. She was not fond of contradictions--nor of
being thwarted by obstacles of any sort, and being forbidden to enter
it, she was all the more desirous to do so; it was, therefore, with
great glee that she permitted her good friend Iravata to conduct her to
the _Forbidden Forest_.

At the expiration of a couple of hours we had penetrated to the very
heart of the wild wood.

The trees overhead were of a prodigious height, and their tops so full
of leaves that the sunlight could not pass through. No plants grew
at their feet, and there were neither bushes nor vines; nothing but
an endless number of tall slender trunks without branches; it was as
if we had entered the colonnade of an immense temple. Parvati was a
little afraid now of this vast solitude--this profound silence. She no
longer sang, and when she spoke her voice sounded sad....

I hastened, therefore, to go in another direction. I remembered that a
short distance from where we were the ground rose gently till it formed
a little hillock, which was celebrated for its beauty; so I turned in
that direction, and soon reached the spot. A perfumed breeze wafted
from it the sound of birds singing in the branches, and Parvati began
again her song.

This new forest was wonderfully beautiful. There were so many flowers
growing here that as I walked on and crushed them, my feet were stained
as red as if I had been walking in blood. The trees bore more flowers
than leaves, and swarms of bees buzzed among the branches. Little
blossoms of blue and yellow bloomed even on the trunks of the trees,
having pierced the bark with their tiny roots. There were great beds
of tall plants which bore rich and fragrant blossoms. These were the
_Sacred Flowers_, the dwelling place of the _Good Fairies_, who bestow
great joys, and fulfill desires and hopes.

Parvati wished to dismount and gather some of them. I wrapped my trunk
around her slender waist, and placed her--like another flower--among
the crimson blossoms. She picked seven of the handsomest, made an
opening in the centre of each, and threaded them on a thin stem, which
held them together without crushing them. Then she unfastened her hair
and shook it down over her shoulders, and arranged the wreath upon her
head as best she could. I had never seen her look so pretty; her royal
head-dresses were too heavy and elaborate and weighed down her delicate
head. I would have preferred always to see her crowned only with this
wreath of flowers which she herself had made without the aid of either
slaves or mirrors.

I replaced her gently on my back and resumed my march through the
forest. The vines had now become so numerous and so tall that I could
no longer step over them; sometimes I had to rise on my hind legs and
place my forefeet upon a tangle of green creepers that barred the way.
The weight of my body was barely sufficient to break through these
natural barriers and open a path before us.

Often too, the trees grew so close together, and the branches hung so
low that my dear little Parvati might have been struck and scratched by
the twigs and briars; at such times I lifted my trunk and held up, out
of her way, all that might have touched her---on whom I would not have
permitted so much as a flower to rest and annoy her!

All that she saw delighted her. Great birds flew by with wonderful
feathers, and she regretted not being able to catch them and make
fans of their beautiful red and green tails. She longed to possess
the little monkeys that chattered when they saw her, and threw down
little nuts and fruits that lodged in her hair. She wanted the big
insects that glittered in the sunshine, and hummed about the clustering
flowers.... Alas! I could not give her any of them! What is more, I
would not have cared to continue the excursion with a whole menagerie
on my back! To tell the truth I was rather jealous of the attention
Parvati gave to all these things, so much more beautiful than I....

The sun was about to set and the forest was transfigured in the red
evening rays, when we reached the borders of a lake, all surrounded by
trees, and so overgrown with lotus flowers that the water could hardly
be seen.

Parvati wished to dismount; I assisted her--but soon repented of my
imprudence, when I saw her unfasten her long robe of silk and gold,
throw it on the bank, and plunge into the shining water....

Like a careful nurse, I was alarmed lest my little mistress should
catch cold, and I made desperate signals to her with my trunk to come
out.... But she only looked at me coaxingly, took a lotus in each of
her hands, and crossed her arms on her breast, as they do before the
statues of Lachmi, when asking favours or returning thanks. So I let
her remain.... I was weak enough to permit her to do so.... She was
so joyous and full of spirits! I could see just her little round head
among the lotus flowers, as she pushed them aside, walking on the
bottom of the lake; only her laughing mouth and brilliant eyes showed
under her wet drooping hair. She left behind her a trail of perfume on
which floated the blue powder and the santal that had been scattered
over her to give her the colour of the skies.

And soon she might have been taken for any ordinary little girl had it
not been for a look of royalty that shone in her eyes.




CHAPTER XVIII


RETRIBUTION


The sun had set; Parvati was returning slowly to the shore and
preparing to resume her silken robe, when she uttered a piercing
shriek, and covered her face with her hands--trembling in every limb.
I followed the direction of her glance, and a shudder seized me also,
when I perceived, coiled in the tall grass, a serpent of the most
venomous species, which had fixed its gaze on Parvati, prepared to
spring as soon as she should place foot upon the bank.

Oh! how was I now punished for my wrong-doing! The pain which
pierced my heart at seeing Parvati in danger led me to realize how
Saphire-of-Heaven and Alemguir must have suffered at not seeing their
beloved daughter return at the accustomed hour.

Had I then sunk to the level of a selfish brute--a being without
reflection--a mere elephant? having had the shameful idea of stealing
the Princess away from her family and her Court.... Now she was perhaps
lost forever--and I with her; for I was resolved not to survive her if
she perished from the venom of this frightful reptile.

These distracting thoughts rushed with terrible rapidity through my
head, and almost deprived me of my presence of mind. Fortunately, it
returned to me. I uttered a sudden roar, and at the same time leaped
towards the serpent, who, surprised and alarmed, quickly unwound its
coils, and hid itself in the leaves.

It now turned towards me--spitting and hissing--and this was what I
desired, to distract its attention from the Princess. She now left the
water, and climbed once more onto the bank; she was safe. But, clasping
her hands, she called to me, imploring me to be careful of the bite of
the fearful creature, and urging me to escape with her rather than to
risk a battle.

I could not answer and tell her that my thick leathery skin had nothing
to fear from the bite of the serpent, except around the eyes or lips,
and I was far too angry at the fright it had caused me to refrain from
taking summary vengeance.

The enemy did not move; it fixed the shining gaze of its lidless eyes
upon me, and darted its forked tongue in and out, like a black flame;
then it coiled again, in readiness to spring.

The upper portion of its body was now half hidden under the leaves,
the middle was wound around a tree, but the creature was so long that
a part still trailed on the ground. I put my foot on that portion, and
bore down upon it with all my weight.

Then the snake quickly stretched itself to its full length, whipping
the leaves and the branches of the tree with furious hissings. It was
struggling to escape, and not succeeding, it came at me again with such
a lightning-like spring that I was unable to avoid it. It twined itself
around my legs, and around my neck, biting furiously with wide-opened
jaws, but only breaking its fangs on my tough hide. The danger for
me was of an altogether different kind. With gigantic strength it
tightened more and more its clasp about my limbs, and what was more
serious, twisted itself around my throat in a way that threatened to
stop my breath.

[Illustration: I UTTERED A SUDDEN ROAR AND AT THE SAME TIME LEAPED
TOWARD THE SERPENT]

It was impossible to reach it with my tusks--it was too close--and I
was in a truly pitiable situation.

What, alas! would become of Parvati, left alone in the wood, if I
should be strangled by this monster?

And closer, and still closer, the living rope tightened about me.... I
could no longer move in spite of my efforts, and the blood roared in my
ears under the increasing and suffocating pressure.... I threw myself
desperately on the ground, rolling madly over and over, seeking to
crush my enemy beneath my weight. I rubbed and ground it on the rough
earth and the thorny bushes. The battle was long. But at last I felt
the cold slimy coils soften, relax, and finally let go their grasp.

I rose, panting.

The serpent lay full length on the ground, still squirming a little,
and looking like a river of blood and ink.

I fell to work, and stamped on it, and tore it to ribbons with my
tusks--till it was completely destroyed.

When my rage was thoroughly appeased I turned, proud and pleased, to
seek Parvati. Ah! how bitterly did I now repent of the crime I had
committed in carrying her off!...

My Princess lay on the ground, pale and motionless--and to all
appearance dead.




CHAPTER XIX

THE HERMIT


The night had fallen rapidly; it was very dark under the thick branches
of the trees, which even at midday cast a dense shadow.

What was to be done? How was I to obtain succour for the Princess, whom
I could now barely see, as she lay motionless on the ground?

I raised the upper part of her body very gently with my trunk, and
swayed her softly back and forth, and fanned her with my ears--but she
did not stir. The thought that she might be dead so horrified me that,
without waiting to take breath, I poured forth groans and screams so
piercing that they were mistaken for those of a human being--and it was
this that finally extricated us from our misfortunes.

All at once I saw, far off under the leaves, a little red light that
seemed to be advancing. It surely was a lantern, and that meant that
here, in the wilderness, there was a human being. I redoubled my cries
of distress, and the light approached more rapidly. It was turned in
our direction, and I could not see the person who was carrying it.

At some distance it stopped, and a feeble, and somewhat tremulous voice
called:

"Who is it that is moaning? Who is it that disturbs the quiet of the
forest by these cries? Can it be this elephant? How happens it that his
cries are like those of a man?"

I lifted the Princess on my tusks and laid her in the rays of the
lantern.

"Oh, the poor child!" exclaimed the Voice, and an old man came forward
and placed his brown and withered hand over the heart of Parvati.

"She has swooned," said he. "Come, follow me. We must lose no time; do
you not see that a storm is impending? We must not remain an instant
longer under the trees."

He began to walk rapidly on, holding the lantern in a way to light the
path, on which I followed, carefully carrying the unconscious Princess.

We soon reached a great clearing, in the centre of which, leaning
against a rock, was a little hut built of wooden planks.

"Here we are, this is my dwelling," said the man; "I am only a poor
hermit, who has retired in disgust from the world, in order to live
and meditate in solitude. I am denuded of all; I possess nothing. But
the forest provides me with plants which nourish me. Some of them have
wonderful virtues, which I trust will enable me to restore to life this
lovely young girl."

The hut was so small that I could only thrust my head inside. I placed
Parvati on the Hermit's bed of leaves, and he hung up the lantern. He
then crushed between his hands an herb that had a pungent odour, which
he caused the Princess to inhale, while he rubbed her temples and her
wrists. To my great joy Parvati revived; she passed her hands across
her eyes, and then, seeing me, she smiled.

"Oh! my dear Iravata," exclaimed she: "the terrible serpent did not
strangle you! I was so terrified I thought I was dying!"

She then related to the Hermit all that had befallen us, and what a
friend I had always been to her. He in his turn told how he had heard
my cries and hastened to our assistance.

He was able to offer the Princess some delicate fruits, which she
accepted gladly, as she had eaten nothing all day.

"Oh, Holy Man," said she, "is it possible that you live all alone in
the depths of this forest? How sad and lonely you must find it!"

"No, child," replied he: "those who live in company with their own
thoughts are never lonely. Instead of looking only at the life that
is now passing, or has passed away--as you do--I look forward to the
mystery of the hereafter, to what is to be after death. And I find this
enough to occupy every minute of the day and the night!"

"Oh, Holy Man," said she: "why do you despise life? To me it seems
sweet and full of joy, and my heart sinks at the thought that it cannot
last forever!"...

A vivid flash of lightning startled the Princess, who shrieked, and
hid her face in her hands.

I pushed my head further into the door of the hut so as to close the
opening and shut out the glare.

"Poor little thing!" said the Hermit. "Here I am talking about death
and oblivion to this lovely flower that blooms and delights all around
her!"

He gently removed the hands which she still held clenched before her
eyes:

"Fear nothing," said he. "We are safe and sheltered here from the
violence of the storm." Then, in order to reassure her, and to distract
her attention, he added:

"If you like, I will tell you a Story, and it will show you why I no
longer care for a world where good fortune often attends a thief or a
liar, and brings them to honour."

"Oh, yes!" said Parvati. "By all means tell me this Story!"

"Listen, then," said the Hermit.

       *       *       *       *       *

"Once upon a time there was a humble Brahman named Harisarman. He
was very poor and ignorant, and possessed a numerous family. After
being compelled for a long time to make his living by begging, he
and his family were received into the household of a rich man named
Sthuladatta. The children of Harisarman were employed to drive the
cows, herd the sheep, and tend the poultry; his wife worked in the
house, and he, himself, was attached to the service of the Master.

"One day Sthuladatta gave an entertainment to celebrate the marriage of
his daughter, but he omitted to invite Harisarman to the festival.

"'Behold!' said Harisarman to his wife: 'I am despised because of my
poverty and ignorance. But I shall pretend to be a learned man, in
order that Sthuladatta will have respect for me hereafter; and when an
opportunity occurs you must say that I am an accomplished Soothsayer.'

"Then he took the Bridegroom's horse out of the stable, and went to a
distant part of the forest, and hid it.

"When the feast was over, and the Bridegroom prepared to return home
with his young Bride, his horse was nowhere to be found. The forest was
searched, the thickets ransacked; the guests all dispersed in different
directions to assist in finding the animal--but no trace of him could
be discovered.

"Then the wife of Harisarman came forward, and said:

"'My husband could have found the horse very easily; he is a learned
Soothsayer, and understands the language of the stars. Why do you not
inquire of him?'

Sthuladatta sent for Harisarman, and said:

"'Canst thou tell me where to look for the lost horse?'

"Harisarman replied:

"'Master, thou hast bidden a host of guests to be present at the
marriage of thy daughter; but thou didst not deign to invite me because
I am poor. Behold I among all those whom thou hast honoured not one
can tell thee where to look for thy son-in-law's horse, and thou art
obliged to have recourse to me, whom thou hast treated with contempt!
Nevertheless, I am not revengeful; and thanks to my learning, I will be
able to inform thee where thou wilt find the horse whom thou seekest.'

"He then drew cabalistic signs, and magic circles, and ended by telling
the place where he had hidden the horse.

"From this moment he was held in great esteem in the household of
Sthuladatta.

"Not long afterwards a robbery was committed in the Palace of the King;
jewels and gems were stolen, and gold carried away.

"The King, having heard of Harisarman, ordered him brought to the
Palace, and said to him:

"'I have heard of thy powers of divination; canst thou reveal to me the
names of the wretches who have dared to enter my palace, and steal my
treasures?'

"Harisarman was very much confused. He bowed low before the King and
replied thus:

"'Great King, All-powerful Master, thou hast taken me somewhat
unawares. But thanks to my great learning, no secret is hidden from
my discerning eyes; I discover that which is invisible, and bring to
light what others would desire concealed forever. Give me only till
to-morrow, in order that I may place myself under the influence of the
Stars."

"The King had him conducted to a chamber in the Palace, with orders
that he was to be permitted to pass the night alone.

"Now, the theft had been committed by a Maidservant of the Palace named
_Dschiva_ (the _Tongue_) and by her brother.

"Full of uneasiness, and fearing that the supposed Soothsayer would
denounce her to the King, Dschiva crept on tiptoe to the chamber
occupied by Harisarman, in the hope of overhearing something he might
say. The false Soothsayer was as much frightened as she, and uttered
loud imprecations on his _tongue_ (_dschiva_) which had brought such
trouble upon him.

"He cried out:

"Oh, _dschiva_! (_tongue_) what have you done through your stupid
covetousness!"

"Dschiva imagined that these words were addressed to her; she entered
the chamber and threw herself at the feet of Harisarman, confessed to
him that she had stolen the jewels, implored him not to betray her,
promising if he would be silent to bestow on him all the gold which had
been taken, and to inform him where she had hidden the jewels.

"The next day Harisarman led the King to where the jewels were
concealed, but the gold he kept for himself, and said to the King:

"'Sire, the thieves in escaping carried with them the gold.'

"The King, well-pleased to have recovered his jewels, would have
recompensed Harisarman, but was withheld by one of his Councillors, who
said:

"'All this does not look natural to me, oh, King. How can such learning
be possessed by one who has never studied the holy texts? This affair
has doubtless been arranged by Harisarman and the robbers. In order to
convince _me_ this pretended Soothsayer would have to be put to the
test!'

"The King consulted for a few minutes with his Councillor, who then
went out, and soon returned with a new earthen pot, which was covered
by a lid, under which he had placed a live frog.

"The King, addressing Harisarman, said:

"'If thou canst tell me what this vessel contains all honours shall be
paid to thee, if not, thou shalt be put to death for having dared to
deceive me!'

"Harisarman now gave himself up for lost. Memories, as vivid as
lightning-flashes, passed through his mind. He remembered his happy
childhood, and his kind father, and how the latter had a pet-name for
him, and often would call him "little Frog!" and, not thinking of what
he was saying, but speaking to himself (with sufficient distinctness,
however, to be heard), he exclaimed:

"'Alas! alas!... this pot has caught thee, little Frog! Once thou wert
free and happy, but now, how wilt thou escape?'

"All those who stood by and heard him supposed that his words were
addressed to the frog in the basin.

"The test seemed conclusive.

"From that day the King honoured Harisarman, loaded him with benefits,
and made him a Prince....

"This," said the Hermit, "is a story that shows how there is no justice
in the world, and that we should be glad to leave it and seek a better
one--even at the price of one's existence!"

"Oh, Holy Man," said Parvati, "the history of Harisarman is not
finished; and who knows what may have happened to him afterwards?
Perhaps he may have experienced a punishment all the more severe from
having been delayed. And then he must have suffered from knowing
himself to be other than he seemed! from knowing himself to be a liar
and a thief, while he was saluted as a scholar and an honest man....
It seems to me that in this world we are always punished for our
faults. Behold, what has happened to us to-day! Iravata, the wisest of
elephants, for the first time acted without his usual prudence; he
went too far into the forest, and I, instead of restraining him, was
delighted with the adventure, and encouraged Him to go still further.
We have both come near to losing our lives; then the storm overwhelmed
us, and here we are, at the dead hour of the night, in the midst of
this forest, fearfully far from the palace of Golconda--where, no
doubt, my dear parents, distracted with anxiety, are lamenting the
absence of their disobedient daughter!"

In saying this Parvati's beautiful eyes were full of tears, and as I
listened I bent my head in shame, and wept, too.

"Do not despair," said the Hermit, who was looking closely at me; "the
dangers you have encountered may perhaps have saved you from still
greater perils. This Elephant, who has acquired the moral intelligence
of humanity, knows very well to what I allude, and _he alone is to
blame"._

I trembled in all my members under the searching look he cast upon me,
and understanding full well the meaning of his accusing words, my head
sank lower and lower.

"Let this Elephant take warning," said he: "in approaching mankind
through his sentiments and intelligence, he may also become liable to
the errors of mankind. I foresee his future. I foresee that he will be
unhappy, and that he will be the maker of his own misfortunes, through
a sentiment far too human!"...

A long silence followed these prophetic words. Parvati was deeply
moved, and as for me, I dared not raise my head.

I withdrew from the doorway which I had obstructed. And now a lovely
moonlight, soft and bright, the colour of emeralds and turquoises,
shone into the hut. The storm was over. The full moon had risen and
beamed in the sky, where a few clouds still floated. The trees and the
flowers, refreshed by the rain, filled the air with fragrance.

"Go now, my friends," said the Hermit; "the storm has been of service
to you. Those who are waiting for you are not as anxious as they would
otherwise have been; believing in the wisdom of the Elephant, in whom
they have entire confidence, they will suppose that he sought shelter
from the storm, and that it alone has caused your delay. Go, then, the
moon shines as bright as day. May the King and Queen of Golconda never
learn the truth!"...

[Illustration]




CHAPTER XX

DESPAIR


Thanks to the English who had interposed and had stopped the War, a
Treaty of Peace had been signed between the Maharajah of Mysore and my
master, the King of Golconda.

But, under an appearance of friendship, there still brooded a bitter
enmity; and as a renewal of hostilities would have been the ruin of my
master, who was less powerful than his enemy, a method was sought to
confirm and strengthen the Treaty.

The plan decided upon was terrible--terrible for _me_--and brought
about the catastrophe which the Hermit had foretold; and as he had
predicted, I was the maker of my own misfortunes....

Parvati all at once began to act strangely. A preoccupation which she
did not impart to me absorbed her constantly, and I was unable to
decide whether she was happy, or sad. For hours at a time she would
sit motionless, leaning back, gazing straight before her, her little
hands clenched on the arms of her rattan chair.

I thought I could perceive that she was restless and impatient--as if
expecting something; but she, who usually confided to me every thought,
now was silent and reserved.

One day I saw her in the great Avenue of Tamarind Trees looking
attentively at something which she held in the palm of her hand; she
would lift it and bring it near--then hold it off at a distance,
looking at it with half-closed eyes. She ended by letting her arms fall
at her side, and bowing her head.

I drew near and saw that her eyes were full of tears. At this I uttered
a little plaintive cry, and knelt before her, trying to make her
understand how it pained me to be ignorant of that which was grieving
her.

She understood me, and patting me gently with her hand, she made me
rise.

"I am going to tell thee everything to-day, Iravata," said she. "If I
have been silent till now it was because I dreaded to announce things
that might never come to pass; to speak of them seemed only to make
them more real, and to bring them nearer. I had hoped that all would
fade away, like the clouds which sometimes gather in the sky, and seem
to threaten a tempest, but which yet disappear without bringing a
storm. But now all is settled."

I trembled with anxiety on hearing her speak so sadly; she had seated
herself on a bench of carved wood lacquered in red and gold, and she
now continued, looking at the thing she held hidden in her hand:

"I am a Princess," said she. "Till lately I had supposed that this
meant only that I was more powerful, more free, as well as richer than
other mortals. I have learned that this is not all. There are duties
which we owe to the people of whom we are the rulers, and our duty
sometimes is to sacrifice our happiness to their welfare."

(The "happiness of the people!"--"sacrifice herself!" what was I about
to hear?)

All at once she opened her hand and showed me a little picture set
round with gold and diamonds:

"See this," said she, "it is a Prince--look well at it.... See this
large, heavy face, this dark complexion, almost black under the white
turban; see that thick mouth, and that bristling moustache, those long
half-shut eyes, with such a sneering expression! It is not what one
would imagine the face of a young Prince to be--and yet," added she,
"it is no doubt flattered!"

She raised the picture to the level of my right eye, and I shut the
other in order to see better.

So far as an elephant can judge of a likeness, and above all after
the description she had given, it seemed to me the face of a terrible
being--an enemy; and I hardly glanced at the picture when I was seized
with a hatred of the person it represented, although I did not yet know
how much reason I had to detest him.

"This Prince is named Baladji-Rao," said Parvati. "He is the Son of the
Maharajah of Mysore, who at the time of my birth was making an unjust
war upon my father, and who would have put him to a shameful death, had
you not rescued him, my Iravata. Well! behold how strange is the fate
of princes! This Baladji, whose father strove to make me an orphan--is
to be my husband--they are about to marry me to him, in order to
cement more strongly the Treaty which has been signed, and preserve the
peace of the two Kingdoms."

_Marry her_!

"The Prince has never seen me, and I am not acquainted with him; how
can there be anything like friendship between us? But it is not, alas!
a question of friendship--but of politics. I must sacrifice myself to
the good of the State. To lament would be unworthy of my noble birth,
and to appear sad would only distress my parents, who are delighted
with the alliance."

I was thunderstruck. For a few moments I remained mute; but I could
not control myself and very soon began to stamp and utter screams of
distress.

"No.... No! Iravata," cried she: "do not do so; thy cries seem only
to echo my own despair--and I am not willing to give it expression! I
smother my grief in my heart, and force back my tears. I am resolved
to be a truly Royal maiden, worthy of the long line of ancestors which
form in history a brilliant chain, of which I am the last link. But
they shall not separate thee from me.... That I will never allow!"

Not separate her from me when she was already so little with me! Ah!
why could she not have remained a child, over whom I was permitted to
watch?... To be together then was a pleasure for her, as much as for
me! While now she was full of thoughts in which I had no part--taken up
with amusements in which I counted for nothing. When she was married
she would have a Court of her own, and a whole Palace to organize and
direct--and what would become of me?

I was ashamed at thinking only of myself, and forgetting her sorrows;
but a new feeling which I could not control had been aroused and was
raging in me--a fury, and a savage hatred for the stranger who was
going to take my Princess away from me.

She forbade me to express my anguish, and it choked me. I had not,
myself, any "royal" soul; I owed nothing to my "ancestors." I was only
a beast of the forest, taught by my association with men to think, and
to suffer; when I suffered I had to cry out; and since my Princess
would not permit me to do so in her presence--I rushed away, and went,
like a wounded animal, to lie and grieve on my bed in the stable!




CHAPTER XXI

JEALOUSY


He appeared one day at the Palace of Golconda--the enemy--the
fiancé--whom I had already learned to detest.

When I saw him advancing from a distance, talking and laughing with
Parvati, a red flame danced before me, and I closed my eyes to escape
from the frenzy of rage which overwhelmed me at the sight of him.

I could hear them coming; the voice of the stranger reached my ears,
resounded in them, and pierced them like a sharp arrow! On hearing it
I seemed to see once more the bloody battlefield--the corpses crushed
under my feet, and my Master in chains, and our perilous flight through
the wilderness....

A tremor shook me from head to foot. I lowered my head and kept my eyes
obstinately shut, and I tore up the ground with my tusks to try and
work off my fury.

I heard them coming nearer and nearer, she with her light step, and he
dragging his feet along carelessly. He had seen me, and it was of me
that he was speaking.

"Ah!" said he, "you have a white elephant! I know that a great
veneration is felt for animals of this species in some countries--among
others in Siam, the country of the Queen your mother. We, however, are
less simple-minded, and we like them for processions, but value them
less than the others because they are less robust." Parvati had stopped
near me, disturbed by my silent rage, which was plainly visible to her;
she sought to soothe me with her gentle hand, and her voice shook as
she replied to the Prince: "Iravata is the good Genius of our family.
The soul of one of my ancestors dwells in him, and he is my dearest
friend!"

"Not dearer than your fiancé, I hope!" said he with a conceited laugh.

"He who has been devoted to me since my birth is more of a friend than
the fiancé of yesterday...."

"Why, this is serious!" cried Baladji, laughing still louder: "Must I
really be jealous of a great beast like that?"...

I could no longer restrain myself from opening my eyes, and at the look
that met his, the Prince recoiled several steps.

"By Kali," said he, "your Ancestor has not a very pleasant expression!
his eyes are as ferocious as a tiger's!"

"Let us go on, I beg of you," said Parvati. "I do not know what has
irritated him, but Iravata is not himself to-day."

"I will go on very willingly," said the Prince, endeavouring to conceal
his fright, "for I detest the vicinity of elephants because of their
odour!" He turned and went away hurriedly, while Parvati, before
rejoining him, looked back at me, and clasped her hands supplicatingly.

It was well that he left, for I could no longer control myself; the
idea of crushing him under my feet, and stamping him to a jelly had
come over me, and in spite of the shame I felt at such a murderous
impulse, I could not banish it.




CHAPTER XXII

FLIGHT


For several days after this Parvati did not come to visit me. I saw her
at a distance, walking in the gardens, always accompanied by the black
Baladji-Rao, whose white turban striped with gold showed brilliantly
against the dark green shrubbery.

Perhaps the Princess intended to punish me for having shown myself so
bitter and full of hatred, or perhaps she dreaded some outbreak of
temper on my part; but her absence only embittered me still more, and
my hatred increased for him who had deprived me of her presence, and
the desire to murder him haunted me day and night.--

The Palace was all in confusion with preparations for the wedding. They
came to try on me a mantle of silver brocade embroidered with pearls
and turquoise, a crown of feathers, and a howdah of gold fillagree, in
which the bridal couple were to be seated on the day of the marriage;
for to me had been assigned the honour of carrying them in the great
triumphal procession which was to traverse all Golconda.

But in proportion as the day approached my longing to kill the Prince
increased to such intensity, that to avoid committing so fearful
a crime, I took a painful resolution.... I resolved to leave the
Palace--and to fly!

Leave Parvati! Leave the King and Saphire-of-Heaven! They who had made
my life so sweet--so free--so happy! Go wandering about the world,
exposed to whatever might befall me, and perhaps become once more a
mere savage.... How could I endure such misfortune--such misery?

But I realized that I must sacrifice myself to prevent bringing a
terrible catastrophe on those who had been so kind to me. Should
Baladji-Rao be assassinated in Golconda, war would again be declared,
fearful reprisals would be made, and my benefactors ruined. I had done
my best to curb my feelings, and resign myself to what I could not
help; but a sight of the Prince of Mysore, no matter at what distance,
caused a cloud of rage to mount to my brain which deprived me of
reason, and impelled me irresistibly to destroy him.

I must go. I must give to my beloved Parvati this last proof of my
devotion.

The night before the wedding I waited for the moon to set, and then I
noiselessly opened the great door of my stable, and stole softly out.

For a moment I thought of going for a last time under the window of the
Princess's chamber, and of gathering some lotus flowers and fastening
them to her balcony, as I had often done before; that would have been
a sort of "good-bye" and she would have understood. But my heart was
heavy, and my eyes dim; I feared if I did so I might give way, and
be unable to carry out my resolution, and leave. So, I crossed the
courtyard quickly, lifted the bar and the chain on the gateway, and
then, after fastening them once more to the best of my ability, I went
forth.

A great silence rested everywhere on Golconda; all was dark and empty.
My head hung down with shame and sorrow, and as I walked my big tears
fell on the road, so that I could have been traced by them, if the dust
had not at once dried them up!

The day was dawning when I drew near the forest which had so often been
the goal of my excursions with the little Princess.

In those days, when the dusky outline of the trees and thickets shone
out against the brilliant rose-colour of the sky, how delighted was I
to entertain the laughing Princess with my gay frolics! And now, how
sadly and mournfully was I seeking its somber shade! My breast swelled
with huge sighs--elephantine sighs--which escaped me with such terrible
sounds that the beasts of the forest fled away, frightened.

I was so overcome that I was obliged to stop, and had I been a man
I might, like the Court Poet, have put into verse the emotions of
my heart, and the hoarse groans which burst from me could have been
translated thus:

    "_Alas! I shall see thee no more, dearest Parvati:_
    _Smile of my life, Sun of my days, Moon of my night_!
    _I shall see thee no more... Alas!_

    "_No more will thy soft hand stroke me!_
    _Nor thy gentle voice speak the friendly words_
    _That sounded sweeter to me than the sweetest music!_

    _"But I leave thee to avoid committing a fearful crime._

    _"Thou, no doubt wilt soon have forgotten me._
    _Thou wilt always be the divine Princess Parvati_,
    _Loved and blessed by all_!
    _But_ I, _deprived of thee_,
    _Shall be only a poor wandering brute_,
    _With naught to comfort me_
    _But the remembrance of former happiness!..."_

Yes, that is how the Poet would have lamented--and I also if I had not
been an elephant!

I went on deeper and deeper into the forest, and the thought came to me
of asking help of the good Hermit who had so kindly received us on the
day when I attempted to carry off the Princess, and when the serpent
and the storm had brought me to repent of my wrong doing.

Certainly this pious old man, who had so long studied the lives of the
Saints, and knew that one must be no less pitiful to animals than to
human beings, would not repel me, and perhaps his comforting words
would heal somewhat the sufferings which were too much for me.

As I advanced the woods seemed changed; the birds no longer sang, the
flowers were pale and withered, and even the trees were brown and dying.

"It is because I myself am so sad," thought I at first; "that is the
reason the forest seems so dreary; but by and by, when I shall have
found the Hermit, and his words will have imparted to me a little
courage, I shall hear the birds sing again, and see the flowers I used
to gather for her!"

Alas! I was mistaken. Like myself the forest had really lost all its
gayety; the birds would not sing, nor the flowers bloom any more. I
searched in every direction, but could not find the Hermit; at last I
discovered, buried in the grass, a few half-decayed planks which alone
remained to mark the spot where the hut had once stood. I saw that it
had been abandoned, and left to be destroyed by the winds and the rain.

The good Hermit, with whom I had hoped to find a refuge, had left the
forest; he had gone to seek another hermitage, or had taken up the life
of a wandering mendicant, such as the Sacred Books sometimes ordain for
Brahmans; or perhaps he might even be dead, killed by some ferocious
tiger.

And so it was, that with him, all the joy and gladness had departed
from the beautiful forest, which his presence no longer sanctified.




CHAPTER XXIII

THE HERD


If anything could have added to my wretchedness it would have been this
failure to find the kind Hermit.

What was to become of me? accustomed as I had been for so long to
living among men--petted and cherished by all?

Oh! why did no wise suggestion now come to me? Why did I not think of
returning to the Palace of Golconda, where very likely my absence had
not yet been discovered?

Alas! jealousy and murderous hatred still governed me; it was necessary
that I should suffer and be punished; and the wise counsel which might
have spared me so many trials never entered my head.

I wandered aimlessly through glades and thickets, penetrating
desperately to the wildest parts of the forest. And now a new distress
was added to my misery. If I had, like men, the faculty of blushing,
I would blush to say that hunger was now torturing me. I ought not,
perhaps, at such a time to have given a thought to so commonplace a
necessity as food; but, I repeat, our race supports less than any other
the lack of nourishment; and, during my long life, I have seen so many
men yield to the mere fear of hunger, that I trust I shall not be
criticised too severely for my weakness.

I was, then, very sorrowful--and very hungry! I gathered here and
there a few half-dead leaves, or a bunch of thin grass--but what could
they do to sustain me? I was beginning to despair, when I heard in the
distance a sound which I recognized as the trumpeting of elephants.
This encouraged me. I said to myself:

"These Elephants whom I hear are, no doubt, Wild Elephants; still, I
will try to touch their hearts, and, perhaps, seeing my distress, they
will admit me to their Herd."

This thought inspired me with a little confidence, and I made my way
towards that part of the forest whence the sounds proceeded. They
continued to reach me at intervals, and, guided in this way, I reached
after a while an opening in the woods, in which twenty large Elephants
were resting, reclining on the ground.

In the centre of the clearing was a great heap of fruits and fresh
vegetables. (The Elephants are accustomed to separate at night, and go
through the fields and near-by plantations, to forage for food, and
they return bringing with them what they have been unable to eat, and
make of it a common stock of provisions.)

I saw them quietly enjoying their repast; from time to time, one would
extend his trunk and select a fruit or vegetable from the heap, and
tranquilly munch it, as if quite sure that nothing would come near to
disturb them, or to interfere with their meal.

Several were sleeping; and yet, in spite of the calm and peaceful
appearance of these Elephants, one felt they were savage and ready
to defend themselves fiercely against any intrusion. I trembled as I
approached them!

I was thinking how I could best attract their attention, when one of
them saw me, and with a hoarse cry, gave the alarm to his companions.
Instantly those who had been eating stopped, and those who were asleep
awoke. They all looked at me, and in those looks I could see no sign
of sympathy for him who had disturbed them. I was on the point of
taking flight--but hunger held me fast, and I said humbly, in elephant
language, something like this:

"My Brothers, I am a very unfortunate and friendless creature, who has
no wish to offend you. I have been for a long time wandering about,
without food or shelter, and if you do not assist me I shall soon die
of hunger. Have pity upon me! Give me a little of your provisions, and
I will in return be glad to render you any service in my power!"

These words had no effect. They said to themselves:

"This is a _White_ Elephant--and no doubt sick; at any rate he is not
like us. Why should we allow him to come among us?"

[Illustration: "HE IS WHITE, AND THAT IS ALL THE MORE REASON FOR
SENDING HIM OFF"]

One Elephant, who was taller and more powerful than the others, and who
seemed to be a leader among them, said roughly:

"We should never take in strangers. We should beware of all new-comers,
and far from treating them with kindness, we should chase them away.
Even if this Elephant were dark like us, he has no business here; he
was not born in this clearing. He is _White_, and that is a still
stronger reason for sending him off!"

At this all the Elephants cried out with one voice:

"Yes! Yes!--let him go!"

Then they all turned to me and cried:

"_BEGONE! BEGONE_!..."

I tried to speak again, but their cries became more fierce. Many rose
up and threatened me with their tusks. Alone as I was against twenty
Elephants--what could I do?... Then, too, my life among kindly and
affectionate masters, and my occupation of watching over and serving
the sweetest and gentlest of Princesses, had rendered me averse to
fighting.... I did not like quarrels. Their furious screams shocked
and horrified me, and I left the clearing where for a moment I had
hoped to find refuge.

I saw now that I had nothing to hope from my fellow-elephants.
Everywhere it would be the same. I should be treated as an intruder. I
remembered how, even in my infancy, when I lived in the forest of Siam,
I had been looked on with dislike by my companions of the Herd, because
of my white colour--the very thing that had caused me to be welcomed
by men. How then would it be with strangers? even if less savage than
those I had just left?

It would always be the same.... No herd would ever consent to receive
me.




CHAPTER XXIV

THE BRAHMAN


I really knew not what to do, and my reflections grew more and more
gloomy, when I noticed that I had by degrees wandered out from the
forest, which now lay behind me.

A rich plain on which were fields and meadows and villages was before
me, stretching out as far as the eye could see. A white road traversed
this plain at some distance.

It was now twilight; the fields were deserted, and not a peasant was
to be seen anywhere on the far-off road. I determined to reach this
highway, however, for it certainly would lead me somewhere--probably
to some city where I might be received. Cast out and rejected by my
fellow-elephants, my only hope now rested on the kindness of men....

As I was passing through a field of vegetables I could not resist the
temptation of stealing a few, and in this way appeasing to some extent
my hunger.

Night had fallen when I gained the road. I set out to follow it,
snatching a fruit now and then from the trees that bordered it.

I had gone but a short distance when my eye fell upon a dark object
lying at the foot of the embankment. I went near, and looking closely,
I saw that it was a man.... Was he dead?--or only asleep?... I sniffed
at him, and felt the warmth of his breath--he was alive! I examined
him still more closely; his clothing was ragged and stained with dust
and mud. His appearance was that of a labourer, and yet, around his
waist I noticed the "_cord_" which marked him as a Brahman. A Brahman
in such rags might be one of those who sometimes adopt the life of a
Beggar, in obedience to the precepts of their religion. His breath,
however, recalled the odour of certain strong liquors, imported by the
Europeans, some of which I had seen in bottles, and had smelt with
disgust; This showed that he was not leading the life of abstinence
suitable for a Mendicant Brahman. He was, no doubt, one of those
unfortunate Brahmans fallen into poverty and disgrace--"_Apad_," as
it is called in the Indian language. The holy law permits these to
labour at any kind of work, such as in ordinary circumstances would be
entirely forbidden to their "caste."

After looking at him for a long time I was able to make out his
features. He had not a cruel face. No doubt he would receive me gladly,
and perhaps welcome me as a gift from the Gods!... I had been so long
unused to being alone that I could not endure it.... A companionship
here offered itself.... What would it be like?... I had no means of
guessing; but even were the Brahman to prove the cruellest of masters,
I felt that I would rather submit to be maltreated by him than to live
alone.

I gave him a little blow with my trunk, to waken him. He opened his
eyes, and stammered:

"Eh!... What's that?"

The night air, which had grown cold, now fully aroused him, and he saw
me.

"What is this? Whose elephant is this? Can it be he who has waked me
up, poking me with his trunk?--does he mean to hurt me, I wonder?"

He got up, painfully and with difficulty. I gave a few little
supplicating whimpers, to show that, on the contrary, I was asking for
his sympathy. Pretty soon he ceased to fear me.

"Well!" said he, "I do not know where you come from, but--bah!--that is
none of my business! We should treat animals as kindly as human beings.
It looks as if you wanted to make friends with me!" I bent my head in
sign of assent, as I had seen men do.

"You seem very intelligent! I am only a poor unfortunate Brahman, in
'Apad,' obliged to accept the hardest, sort of work in order to live,
and to labour at tasks that are far beneath my rank. No doubt I am
expiating sins committed in some former existence. But, follow me,
if you choose! You shall share my poor living: and, perhaps, you may
even prove useful to me; for one who owns an elephant can obtain more
lucrative employment than he who has only his strong arms and good-will
to offer."

To show him that I accepted his proposal to live with him for the
future, I bent my forefoot, inviting him to mount on my back. He
understood, and climbed up, and when he had settled himself to the best
of his ability, he said:

"Go ahead! Follow the road before you! Perhaps the Gods have sent you
to me for my advantage! Choose your own way. I have neither house nor
friends; anybody may receive us who will."

I was no longer alone; and in my forlorn condition this was a bit
of good luck. I walked along the road, feeling less despondent, and
carrying my new master.

This new master was called Moukounj. Many a time when we tramped long
distances without finding any one who would give work to either or
both of us, I would hear him talking to himself, and recounting his
misfortunes, and I ended by knowing them by heart. His tale was simple
enough. He belonged to a rich family of Brahmans, and had spent his
youth at Lahore, where he had received instruction in all that it
behoved a Brahman to know, at the hands of excellent masters. Later on
the Rajah of the Mahrattas took him into his service as "_pourohita_";
the "pourohita" is a priest whom the princes employ to offer sacrifices
to the Gods in their name. I have heard the English say that rich
Europeans employ priests of their own religion to perform similar
duties, and that they are called "_chaplains_."

Moukounj was highly thought of by the Rajah of the Mahrattas, who
treated him in the most friendly manner; and he might have risen to
eminence and great honour, had it not been for a terrible fault. He
could not resist the temptation of drinking strong liquors and was
continually getting drunk. When intoxicated, he had several times been
guilty of grave infractions of the Court etiquette, and in spite of the
regard felt for him by the Rajah, he was dismissed.

This disgrace did not cure Moukounj of his weakness; on the contrary,
he fell into the way of drinking more and more. At last, avoided
by everyone, turned out of every household, despised by the other
Brahmans, he finally sank to beggary, and tramped about the country,
thankful to take any sort of work that offered. He had been a Cook; he
had been a Stone-mason--but everywhere his fault prevented him from
remaining any length of time.

At present he was engaged most of the time in helping the Navvies and
the Stevedores, and he lived on very meagre wages, the greater portion
of which he spent for that yellow liquor which the Europeans call
"_Eau-de-Vie_" ("_Water-of-Life_")--why I do not know, for it seems to
me that, far from giving them _life_, it slowly kills them!...

Thanks to me, Moukounj was now a little better off; he hired me out to
carry heavy burthens, and himself to carry light ones; and the coarse
vegetables he bought to feed me cost but very little.

Our life was very monotonous. If we found ourselves in a city where
Moukounj could not find work--we left, and wandered on till we found
something to do.

Moukounj was, on the whole, not a bad fellow--always ready to be
useful where he could--the way he had received me was proof of this!
He was jolly and good-natured, and loved to remember and recite the
fine speeches he had learned at Lahore. But when drunk his disposition
changed; he grew irritable; he became ugly and violently angry; he
quarrelled with his fellow-workmen, and went so far as to beat me.

I certainly was not happy. When the work I was employed in seemed
too humiliating, and when Moukounj lashed me with blows--I suffered
bitterly. But why rebel? Things might be worse--so I submitted.

I thought constantly of my old life, wondering what had become of the
lovely Parvati; did the Prince love her?... Was she happy?... Did she
ever remember me?...

I tried to frame replies to these questions that would be as comforting
as possible, and these thoughts softened somewhat my sorrows.

I never could tell you the names of all the cities we saw, all the
rivers I crossed, the mountains I climbed with Moukounj. I remember
one French city where I helped to build a palace for the Governor; I
also carried the rails for a tramway they were building just outside
of Madras. I did much other work of about the same kind, and I passed
several years in this wandering and monotonous existence.

[Illustration]




CHAPTER XXV

THE IRON RING


We wandered on, going from village to village, from town to town, from
city to city, till we finally reached Calcutta. And here my life was
once more changed.

It happened in this way.

We had been stopping a long time in this great city, where Moukounj was
always able to find work for us both. The English language which he had
learned in his youth was often of great advantage to him here.

We had been working for several days on the wharves, where we were
employed in unloading vessels. The heaviest burthens were as nothing to
me, and Moukounj was alert and insinuating, and so was able to render a
thousand little services to the travellers and also to the sailors. He
was now earning a generous living for us; but alas! it only resulted in
more frequent and more furious fits of drunkenness for him--and for me
in blows and humiliations.

It often happened that he went off to drink at the neighbouring
taverns, and left me alone to stand and await his return--he knew very
well that I would be faithful!

Now, one day we had been helping to unload the cargo of a large
merchantman, and Moukounj had left me a few vegetables to eat, and
had gone off to drink, when there came in, at the same wharf, a large
Liner, bringing a great many passengers. I was distressed that my
master should miss a chance to gain so many rupees--but I felt it
would be useless to go in search of him. The wisest way would be to
wait patiently for his return, and that was what I did. Moukounj
_might_ return in time--I could only hope he would not be drunk!

I watched the passengers as they disembarked. They were Europeans,
mostly English, who ran about, here and there, asking questions of the
porters, not making themselves understood, nor understanding what was
said to them. The spectacle amused me greatly, and I watched them
closely, trying to imagine from their looks what each one would do....
It was not long before I remarked among them a group of persons whose
calmness contrasted with the agitation of the others. They numbered
something like twenty; there were about as many women as men; all were
young, and well dressed. It did not seem that the voyage had fatigued
them; they stood together on the wharf, taking but little notice of
their surroundings.

One of them now quietly reviewed the company, and, seeing that none of
them were missing:

"We may as well-go to the Hotel," said he to his companions.

Then, addressing one of the young men, he said:

"Mr. Oldham, you will please remain here and see to the unloading of
our baggage."

"Yes, Mr. Hardwick, I will do so," replied he. Then all except Mr.
Oldham went quietly off.

I looked curiously at this Mr. Oldham; he was a most singular young
man--tall and thin, with very long arms and legs, and enormous hands.
His head was small, his mouth stretched from ear to ear, and his
cheek-bones projected strangely. While waiting for the luggage to
be landed, Mr. Oldham strode up and down, seemingly impatient, and
murmuring something to himself which I did not understand.

I was in despair at Moukounj's absence. These strangers, thought I,
must have a lot of baggage, perhaps very heavy, and if my master were
here we would get plenty to do.

While thinking about it I was playing mechanically with a great ring of
iron which lay at my feet. It had once been fastened into the ground,
but it was no longer secure, and in playing I had unintentionally
loosened it. I was now amusing myself by tossing it up in the air, and
catching it on my trunk as it fell.

All at once the eyes of Mr. Oldham turned in my direction, and he began
to watch me closely. My play seemed to interest him, and he called one
of the workmen on the wharf, and inquired:

"Do you know who is the owner of that elephant?"

"Oh, yes," said the man, "it is a poor fellow who works here at
unloading ships."

"He has got a very intelligent animal!"

That was all.

But Mr. Oldham continued to look at me; and as for myself, my vanity
being awakened, I made a point of not missing a single ring, and Mr.
Oldham gave vent to "Ohs!" and "Ahs!" of admiration, and murmured:

"'_The Elephant Juggler_'--That would look well on our play bills!"

They now began to bring ashore the luggage of Mr. Oldham and his
friends.

There were enormous boxes and crates of strange shapes, bales of rope,
stacks of poles, and many things scarcely covered at all, of which I
could not imagine the use. Then they brought up out of the ship great
chariots, cages of wild animals, and at last numbers of horses, who
seemed bewildered by the voyage.

Well, these are strange travellers, thought I--and they have strange
luggage! They loaded the boxes and bales onto the chariots, and
harnessed to them the least fine-looking of the horses; a number of
men, who seemed to be the servants of Mr. Oldham, took the horses by
the bridle, or mounted on the chariots, and all were moving off, when
Moukounj arrived!

He was not very drunk, and he went at once to Mr. Oldham to offer his
services. It was too late.--But as he pointed towards me, Mr. Oldham
said to him:

"Ah! You are the owner of that intelligent beast? You had better come
to the Hotel Victoria, and ask for Mr. John Hardwick, Director of the
_'Grand Circus of the Two Worlds'_--he may have something to say to you
that will be to your advantage."

And Mr. Oldham went off with the chariots and baggage.

At first Moukounj never thought of going to see Mr. John Hardwick.
He could not understand what the Director of the "_Circus of the Two
Worlds_" could have to say to him. But fate ordained that for the
next two days we had almost no work, and were reduced to the verge of
starvation. It was then that he remembered Mr. Oldham's invitation. He
thought that even if Mr. Hardwick had nothing of importance to propose,
he might at least take pity on him, and give him a little something in
charity.

So, having warned me--a useless precaution--to remain patiently where
I was, he set off for the Victoria Hotel.


[Illustration]




CHAPTER XXVI

THE GRAND CIRCUS OF THE TWO WORLDS


In about an hour Moukounj returned, joyous, and as he came near me he
embraced my trunk.

"Ah! my brave companion! My faithful friend! How great is the wisdom of
the Sage who says: '_He who is clever will be a stranger in no country;
for him who is contented with little, there is no anxiety; for him who
is wise, there are no surprises; for him who is determined, nothing is
impossible!_'--How true are these sayings! And equally so is this one:
'_The life of mankind is as uncertain as the reflection of the Moon on
water; for this reason we must practise Virtue!_' ... Yes--yes--we must
practise Virtue; and it is because I have done so, and because I have
so cheerfully endured my misfortunes, that to-day the Gods have sent me
better luck!"

He ceased speaking, and danced around me, clapping his hands. Then he
resumed:

"Yes, yes, old fellow! life is, indeed, as uncertain as the reflection
of the Moon on water. When I was young and was studying books of
wisdom at Lahore, I would have laughed at anyone who told me that I
would one day be employed in unloading ships on the wharf at Calcutta;
and yesterday I would have laughed at him who said that to-day I
should belong to the troupe of Mr. John Hardwick, Director of the
'_Grand Circus of the Two Worlds_'--and nevertheless--that is what has
happened!"

He hugged me again, and continued:

"Oh, my friend! My saviour! thou, who, for all I know, may be Ganesa
Himself!... Henceforth, we shall have a sure refuge! We will no longer
have to sleep in a ditch by the roadside on rainy nights.... We will
not have to go hungry! No! we shall live in comfort, well-paid, and fed
by the kind Mr. John Hardwick.... Good Fortune has found us at last!"
And thereupon he told me of his interview.

"I went to the Hotel Victoria," said he; "I asked for Mr. John
Hardwick, and was shown into the presence of a man, still young,
but of so serious and grave an appearance that I felt timid and
embarrassed--I who had never before felt fear! (For, what says the
Sage? _'In the forest, in the jungle, on perilous roads, in fierce
encounters, and in troubles, under the threatenings of swords--Virtuous
men feel no fear!_) Mr. Hardwick had with him the young man who spoke
to me the other day, whom he called Mr. Oldham. On seeing me this young
man said:

"'Ah! this is the man I spoke to you about, who has the clever
elephant,' And he began at once to sound your praises, talking about
something which I could not quite understand; he spoke continually of
an 'iron ring' with which he had seen you playing....

"Mr. Hardwick then asked if I would sell you.

"'I?--Sell an elephant sent to me by the Gods ... who perhaps is a God
himself?... Never!--Never!' said I.

"'That is a pity,' said Mr. Oldham: 'for this elephant would
undoubtedly be a great addition to the attractions of our company.'

"'Well, it cannot be helped,' said Mr. Hardwick.

"I was about to retire when Mr. Oldham signed to me to remain, and
addressing Mr. Hardwick, said:

"'Perhaps matters might be arranged in a way that would be satisfactory
to all. How would it do to engage both the elephant and his master?"

"'Give me five minutes to think,' said Mr. Hardwick. Oh! there is a man
who knows how to make up his mind in a hurry! The five minutes being
ended, Mr. Hardwick turned to me and asked:

"'Will you agree to form, with your elephant, a part of our Troupe?'

"As for me I had no need to ask time for reflection; it took me but
a minute to make up my mind, and accept!... To tell the truth, I did
not exactly understand in what way Mr. John Hardwick was expecting to
employ us; but he seemed to be a man of wealth, who would at any rate
provide us with a living. So I said, 'Yes,' And I do not think that I
shall regret it."

And once more, singing and laughing, he capered around me. Then, all at
once becoming serious, he added:

"Mr. Oldham later on told me something of Mr. Hardwick's business.
It seems he exhibits trained animals; and the members of his company
perform feats of strength and skill. So now, my friend, in place of
toiling and exhausting yourself in hard work, you have only to amuse
the public with your accomplishments--and we shall never know want
again!"

I must confess I was not so delighted as my master. Although I had
been glad to divert dear ones like Saphire-of-Heaven and Parvati, I
felt very disinclined to entertain those to whom I was indifferent. My
present life was certainly hard enough, but at least it afforded me
an opportunity to indulge my regrets; while I understood that I would
be called upon to be gay at stated times, even if the most melancholy
thoughts were at the moment distressing me. However, I could not spoil
the happiness of Moukounj, and I responded in a friendly manner.

We soon left the wharf, and went to join Mr. John Hardwick. And thus
it was that I entered the company of "_The Grand Circus of the Two
Worlds_."

That evening Mr. Hardwick introduced us to his Troupe. He had hired a
large vacant space on which his circus was encamped; it was a great
framework of wood and iron, which could be set up and taken down very
quickly. When put together it presented a very elegant and comfortable
appearance, and no one would suppose that only a few hours would be
required to take it apart and pile it on the chariots. It was arranged
in two sections--the Circus proper with the Ring and the Benches, and
the Stables, with rooms where the grooms and inferior employees of the
company were accommodated; the important members lodged at the Hotel,
with the Director. When we reached the Circus, Mr. Hardwick designated
the place I was to occupy in the Stable, and the room which Moukounj
(who refused to allow anyone else to look after me) was to share with
one of the grooms.

We were then conducted to the Ring, where all the company were
assembled. They were the very persons whom I had seen arriving three
days before.

The Director then made a speech, as follows:

"Ladies and Gentlemen, allow me to introduce to you Monsieur Moukounj
and his Elephant. My valued friend and assistant, Mr. Oldham, informs
me that this Elephant is a remarkable animal, whom he has seen execute
a difficult and interesting exercise without any previous instruction.
As a member of our Troupe, he will do honour to our Company, already so
celebrated. I bespeak, therefore, a kind reception for the _Elephant_
and his _Master_."

The Company came forward very politely, one after another, to greet
Moukounj, and to caress me; and Mr. Hardwick, addressing Moukounj,
introduced each one by name.

"This, Monsieur, is Mr. Oldham, with whom you are already acquainted.
He is our Premier Clown, and Stage Manager.

"This is Mr. Edward Greathorse, our Ringmaster, and his wife, one
of the most distinguished Equilibrists in the world, and their two
children, Master William Greathorse, who has not his equal for vaulting
through a paper circle, and coming down plumb in the right spot on his
horse--and Miss Annie Greathorse, who has made a study of the Trapeze,
and has acquired all the secrets of that difficult art."

Mr. and Mrs. Greathorse did not please me at all. Mr. Greathorse was
a very tall, thin man of about forty; one felt at once that he was in
the habit of speaking only to horses--and of speaking to them brutally!
Mrs. Greathorse was about the same age as her husband, and quite as
tall. She was as fat as he was thin; her vulgar face had a look of
hardness, and her nose was extraordinarily flat. The reason of this I
learned later on; it was occasioned by her specialty of balancing upon
that feature a pole with a heavy iron ball on the end!

Master Greathorse, who might have been about seventeen or eighteen
years old, displeased me excessively; he had a sly look, and seemed to
enjoy nothing so much as playing malicious jokes at the expense of the
other members of the company. The only one of the family who attracted
me was Miss Annie. She was a very young girl, almost a child, not over
fifteen at the outside, and very fragile, with arms developed out of
all proportion by her exercise on the trapeze. It was easy to see that
she worked too hard and was a sufferer; she had a pale, gentle face and
fair, pretty hair.

After the Greathorses there advanced six persons, all wonderfully
alike, although their ages varied from nine or ten to thirty-five years.

"The Smith Brothers, Monsieur," said Mr. Hardwick: "most interesting
gentlemen!--Until you have seen them form the 'uman Pyramid,' you do
not know to what heights the Acrobatic Art has attained!"

The "Smith Brothers" all smiled at once, with the same smile, which
seemed to have coagulated and become a fixture upon their lips.

The next to come forward was a very pretty and elegant young woman:

"Miss Clara Morley, our accomplished 'Amazon'--you will have an
opportunity to admire her in her clever equestrian exercises."

After Miss Morley came three men and three women, none of them either
fat or thin, tall or short, handsome or ugly--but all very well dressed
and civil.

"Our Riders, Mr. and Mrs. Crampton, Mr. and Mrs. Bampton, and Mr. and
Mrs. Mapton."

Mr. Hardwick next presented:

"Mr. Nilo Bong, the famous Gymnast from Tonquin--the Ulverstone
Sisters, Miss Jane and Miss Lucy Ulverstone, who every evening,
Monsieur, astonish and delight the audience by their dexterity on the
Horizontal Bar.

"Mr. Pound--to whom the lifting of a two-hundred pound weight is a mere
joke, and Mrs.

"Mr. Pound, his wife, the '_Fairy of the Revolver_'--at 100 feet she
would not miss a nut!...

"Mr. Tom Liverpool, the Champion Pugilist, whom no one has ever been
able to vanquish!

"Miss Alice Jewel, who crosses the Ganges at its widest part on a
Wire!"...

All these people I found uninteresting and insignificant. Mr. Nilo Bong
might call himself a Chinese, and his eyes were a little oblique, but
his complexion proved him to be a European; Mr. Pound and Mr. Liverpool
were huge men, but very unintelligent in appearance; Mrs. Pound was a
small woman--very thin, with a sharp expression; Miss Jane and Miss
Lucy Ulverstone were modest, well-mannered young women, who bowed
politely.

There remained to be introduced only four more persons, two men, and
two women.

The two men were strikingly alike, and both bore a singular resemblance
to Mr. Oldham; but the features which in him were merely quaint and
amusing, were in them so exaggerated as to be grotesque; and the oddity
of their appearance was increased by an affected air of extreme gravity.

When their turn came to be introduced; "Mr. Trick and Mr. Trock,
Monsieur" said Mr. Hardwick: "I should not hesitate to call them the
most brilliantly amusing Clowns in the world, if they themselves
did not recognize their superior in Mr. Oldham ... they are Gaiety's
favorite children!"...

Messrs. Trick and Trock bowed to Moukounj, and a very handsome young
woman with black eyes and golden hair approached:

"Miss Sarah Skipton, Monsieur--the divine Artiste to whom we owe the
_'Dance of Light'_."

Miss Sarah Skipton bowed pleasantly, and last of all Mr. Hardwick
presented a young girl who seemed to me the very embodiment of
grace--with hair of delicate blond, and blue eyes that were a smile in
themselves.

"Miss Sarah Skipton is, one may say, the Star of our Troupe; Miss Circé
Nightingale is the Pearl! She is the gentle '_Charmer of Birds_' and
when you see her surrounded by her escort of warblers and nightingales,
you would take her as one of your divine Goddesses!..."

Circé Nightingale smiled graciously on Moukounj, and caressed me with
her pretty hand a long time--for which I thanked her, feeling that
already we were friends.

To sum up, all these people, with the exception of Mr. and Mrs.
Greathorse, young Greathorse, and Mrs. Pound, seemed fairly agreeable,
and I felt that it ought not to be particularly unpleasant to live with
them. For four of them I already felt a certain sympathy; the elegance
of Miss Clara Morley pleased me; she seemed so gentle with animals,
and it was evidently not by severity that she managed her horses.
For Miss Annie Greathorse I felt a sincere pity; I was sure that she
was unhappy and badly treated, and thought that perhaps the time
might come when I would be able to protect her. I admired the radiant
beauty of Miss Sarah Skipton, and the exquisite grace of Miss Circé
Nightingale delighted me; and I said to myself: "I shall have here four
Friends--and four Enemies!"

When the Troupe had all been introduced, Mr. Hardwick said to Moukounj:

"This is our first evening in Calcutta, and I would like to present
your elephant to the public as soon as possible; what is his name?"

"As it was at a time of distress that he came to me, from I know not
where, and as he brought me consolation--I call him 'Devadatta,' which
in our language signifies 'Sent-by-the-Gods.'"

"Very good! We will then call him on our bills, '_The Famous Elephant
Devadatta_'.... But, tell me, is there not one of your gods whom you
represent with the head of an elephant?"

"The Divine Ganesa, God of Wisdom, has an elephant's head," replied
Moukounj.

"Excellent!" cried Mr. Hardwick: "'_The Famous Elephant Devadatta,
Brother of Ganesa_, _in his various Acts_'--that is the thing! What do
you think of that, Mr. Oldham?"

"It will be admirable," replied Mr. Oldham.

"Now," continued Mr. Hardwick, "we must decide what exercises to teach
him. You are the one who discovered him, and it is to you that I shall
confide his education."

"I feel honoured, Mr. Hardwick," said Mr. Oldham; "his lessons will not
take long, and will be commenced at once. But first, I would like to
have him repeat before you the game with which he was amusing himself
on the wharf."

Mr. Oldham ordered the Iron Ring to be brought, and I understood that I
was to play with it as I had done before. Mr. Hardwick was satisfied.

"That is very well," said he, "and if he could play with several at a
time it would be perfection."

Some more Rings were brought; I threw them all into the air and
caught them all on my trunk, I did not miss one. And Mr. Hardwick was
enthusiastic.




CHAPTER XXVII

MY DEBUT


The next day the play-bills of the "_Grand Circus of the Two Worlds_"
bore the following announcement:

                           ELEPHANT JUGGLER
                        The Famous "Devadatta"
                           Brother of Ganesa

When the evening arrived, and the performance was about to begin, I was
not much excited--but terribly ashamed. I thought, "What would Parvati
say if she could see me? I am about to amuse an audience by ridiculous
tricks; and if I should be so unlucky as to let slip a ring, no doubt
I shall be punished! Mr. Oldham, it is true, has a fairly good-natured
face, but Mr. Greathorse might make himself very disagreeable--and no
doubt threaten me, as he does the horses, who at the moment were making
the tour of the Ring."

The performance began by an Equestrian Act, by Messrs. Crampton,
Hampton, and Bampton. The horses were expected to leap over various
obstacles, and as I stood near the door, I could see Mr. Greathorse in
the centre of the Ring, with an enormous whip in his hand, cutting the
air with slashing strokes, to excite the poor creatures, and when one
of them, in spite of the efforts of the rider and the cracking of the
lash, hesitated to jump, he looked as if he would have been glad to
proceed from threats to blows!

After the Cramp tons, the Hamptons, and the Bamptons, the Ulverstone
Sisters appeared; but while the bar was being placed in position three
singular persons bounded into the Ring--one turning handsprings, one
walking on his hands, and the other disjointing himself in a series of
summersaults. They were dressed in a large, loose garment, made all in
one piece, and decorated with strange patterns; one had a rising sun
painted in the middle of his back and on his stomach, and one had an
enormous frog. All had their faces whitened with flour, and wore wigs
of white or red with a long lock standing up at the crown.... They
amused the public by all sorts of extravagances; they exchanged buffets
with each other; threw themselves down on the ground, and jumped up
suddenly.... They pretended to assist the servants who were adjusting
the bar, and perpetually tumbled down in the most grotesque attitudes.
The public laughed loudly at their antics.

I looked very earnestly at these persons, and I finally discovered
underneath the flour the features of Mr. Trick, Mr. Trock--and Mr.
Oldham! I was greatly astonished, and somewhat shocked to have for my
Preceptor a gentleman who could so forget his dignity!

Between each number of the program Mr. Oldham, and Messrs. Trick and
Trock repeated their buffooneries.

The performance went along very well. The praises with which Mr.
Hardwick had showered his companions in introducing us seemed to
me well merited. The Smith Brothers were wonderfully agile; if
Mrs. Greathorse was unpleasant to live with, she was a most adroit
Equilibrist; Miss Alice Jewel was extremely successful on the
Tight-rope. The Riders did well, and I was charmed with the graceful
movements of Miss Clara Morley's horse, which she managed altogether by
kind words. Only poor Annie Greathorse awakened my pity--she seemed so
ill at ease on her Trapeze!

It was after her that the "Famous Devadatta" was to appear. And I
appeared. I was applauded, and on my return from the Ring was kindly
received and caressed by the members of the company. But I was far from
happy; the least notice from Parvati would have been sweeter!

The end of the representation pleased me more than all the rest; it
was finished by the trained Birds of Miss Circé Nightingale, and the
"_Dance of Light_" by Miss Sarah Skipton.

They brought a great Cage into the middle of the Ring, full of all
kinds of Birds singing most delightfully. Then Miss Circé appeared,
looking charming in a dress of pale blue, with a silver girdle around
her waist; a silver comb sparkled in her beautiful blond hair; she
held in her hand a silver flute. She went at once to the Cage, opened
the door, and all the Birds flew out and circled round her, and some
perched on her shoulder. She smiled upon them in a sweet, friendly way,
and at a little gesture from her, they all flew up to the ceiling of
the Circus. She then played on the flute, and the Birds accompanied
her, and one could not distinguish the song of the Birds from the notes
of the flute.

Then she hastened the time of the music and the Birds descended towards
her, and circled around her head, like a kind of living coronet.... She
constantly altered the measure of the music, and the Birds who were
familiar with it formed new figures--all of them most beautiful; and
one might have imagined the lovely _Bird Charmer_ to be a _Queen of
Air_!

And when the flute ceased Miss Circé's gay little friends went joyously
back into their Cage, and the delighted audience applauded with
enthusiasm.

Where the Cage had stood they now brought in and set up a large
platform, on which Miss Sarah Skipton mounted, dressed in a very
full gown of thin, light material, made with an extraordinary number
of flounces or plaits; her beautiful golden hair floated over her
shoulders. Then the lights were put out: only four great lamps, or
rather lanterns, were left, which shed their rays directly onto
the platform, surrounding Miss Sarah with a luminous aureole. Then
they passed before the lanterns coloured glasses, and among these
reflections, which changed each instant, Sarah danced.... She danced
quick and light, or slow and languid; her dress whirled around her,
and grew red--green--yellow--and violet in turn--and sometimes all the
colours of the rainbow at once. She seemed a flower--a butterfly--a
bird; she was the dawn; she was the twilight; she was the storm, with
flashes of lightning; she was the waves of the sea, smiling in the
morning light; she was precious stones--and last of all--the glorious
triumphant Sun!... And suddenly all the lights were turned on, and
Sarah received the acclamations of the Audience in triumph!

The performance was over. I modestly retired to my stable, quite
dazzled by the "_Dance of Light._"


[Illustration]




CHAPTER XXVIII

COMEDIAN


Soon a new announcement could be read on the bills of the "Circus of
the Two Worlds."

                            The Celebrated
                               DEVADATTA
                            Unique Elephant
                              Brother of
                           THE DIVINE GANESA
                          In His Various Acts

Mr. Oldham had certainly acquitted himself remarkably well and rapidly,
with my education, and I now no longer delighted the public by merely
juggling with rings. I performed at each representation, always in the
same order of succession, and when my repertoire was completed, this is
what I did.

First, I tossed the rings; then a target was placed, and I stood before
it, with a basket of balls beside me. I picked up the balls with my
trunk, and threw them at the target--and I believe I never missed.

The target being removed, a huge ball of iron was brought to me, and I
stood upon it with my four feet, balancing myself, and moving slowly
forward. This exercise fatigued me excessively; so, to afford me a
rest, I was made to play a _Dramatic Scene_.

A young King and a beautiful young Queen were supposed to be travelling
happily in the country. All at once sounds of the hunt are heard; I
appear--chased by horsemen; the young King and Queen try in terror to
hide themselves; I pretend to be enraged, and run furiously two or
three times round the Circus. Then I see the Queen, and rush towards
her. Then, in the Scene as originally composed by Moukounj--(for my
master had become an author, in order to increase the brilliancy of my
theatrical career), the King should strive to protect the Queen with
his person, draw his sword, and bury it in my breast, and I should
fall, apparently dead. The sword, of course, had a blade of tin, which
slipped up inside the handle. But this finale was changed by me after
the first evening.

It was Miss Nightingale who played the young Queen. She was most lovely
in this part, with a robe of delicate white gauze under which glistened
a tunic of mauve silk. And when I saw her, looking so beautiful, the
memory of Parvati, which never left me, came over me more vividly
and tenderly than ever before; so that, instead of rushing violently
upon her, I stopped; and then came forward slowly, and humbly and
submissively--knelt at her feet! The audience applauded tremendously,
and it was decided to retain this denouement for the Scene hereafter.

After this, I made the circle of the Ring five times on a Bicycle,
an enormous Bicycle built for my stature. (You can imagine with what
difficulty an elephant could balance himself on such a machine!) I
worked the pedals with my forefeet and steered with my trunk.

Next, I had to stand up and dance a Polka; and, finally, I had to play
another Dramatic Scene--a _Comedy_, composed by Mr. Oldham.

They brought into the middle of the Circus a Table and a Chair of the
proper size for me. Then a couple of uprights, between which hung a
bell, with a cord attached.

I entered, sat down in the chair, and with my trunk pulled the
bell-cord. Instantly, Mr. Oldham, dressed like a Waiter, ran in. I made
him understand that I wished my dinner.

"Yes, Mr. Elephant--it will be ready immediately!"

He went out. Then I drew from a bag fastened around my waist a pair
of enormous spectacles, and put them on. Then I took a news-paper and
pretended to read--(though at that time I did not really know how to
read!) After a while, as Mr. Oldham did not return, I pretended to grow
impatient, and rang again, and Mr. Oldham ran in:

"Yes, Mr. Elephant.... Your dinner will be ready in a few minutes!"

Twice more I rang, and twice Mr. Oldham ran in and repeated the
same thing, "Yes, Mr. Elephant, your dinner will be ready in a few
minutes"--without bringing me anything. The third time he brought
me merely one dish, which contained nothing but a few rolls, and I
swallowed them in one mouthful.

I rang again and Mr. Oldham appeared; I signified that I wished
something more. After a long while he brought me a second dish, with
a few vegetables, which I ate up as quickly as the first. I ordered
another dish, and this time he brought me fruits, cakes, and a bottle
of Champagne, which I popped loudly!

I now rang for the last time, and signed that I desired my bill.
Without waiting a moment this time, Mr. Oldham brought me an enormously
long piece of paper. I put on my spectacles, having taken them off to
eat. I looked at the bill, and gave a deep roar of indignation. Mr.
Oldham fell to the ground as if terror-stricken, and bounded up again:

"What is the matter, Mr. Elephant?"

I expressed my displeasure by tearing the bill, and getting up and
stamping on it.

"You think it is too much?"

I made a sign that I did.

"But you must pay it!"

I signified that I would not.

"What! You will not pay me?"

I continued to signify "No."

"Very well! Mr. Elephant, we will see about that!" and he called out:

"Hi! there! Police! Police!"

Then entered Mr. Trick and Mr. Trock, dressed as Policemen.

"Policemen!" said Mr. Oldham, "here is Mr. Elephant who refuses to pay
my bill!"

"Oh, very well! we will arrest you, Mr. Elephant, and take you to the
Station House," said Mr. Trick.

"Yes! Off with him to the Station House!" said Mr. Trock.

At this threat I appeared to be very much agitated, and, using my
trunk, I drew out of my bag a number of imitation bank notes, which
I threw down on the table--and went hastily out, while Mr. Oldham
performed an extravagant and burlesque dance of triumph with Mr. Trick
and Mr. Trock....

This scene always delighted the public, who invariably encored me two
or three times. But I felt humiliated at playing the part of a buffoon,
and making a clown of myself.

I lived in this way for several years; when the receipts fell off in
any city, Mr. Hardwick took us to another. We went from Calcutta to
Chandernagor, from Chandernagor to Patna; then I saw Benares, Alahabad,
Delhi, and other places.

I need not have been very unhappy. I had made myself respected by those
who at first attempted to tease me. Mr. Oldham was proud of his pupil
and loved me; Moukounj was always the same good, kind fellow who had
received me; and my four friends, Miss Annie, who, I had occasionally
protected from her mother's violence, Circé Nightingale, Miss Sarah
Skipton, and Miss Clara Morley were always kind and spoiled me
incessantly.

But, alas! I thought constantly of my beautiful life of other days--so
calm--so happy; and I thought of Parvati, who perhaps was sad and
ill-treated, and whom I might have defended. Had she forgotten me? Or,
if she thought of me, must she not accuse me of ingratitude? And, had I
not been indeed ungrateful, to leave her as I did, because of a wicked
jealousy?...

So, in spite of all the kindness by which I was surrounded, I was very,
very sad.

[Illustration]




CHAPTER XXIX

THE RETURN TO PARADISE


One day the "_Grand Circus of the Two Worlds_" arrived at Bombay.
I was by this time at the end of my endurance--overwhelmed by
mortification....

I, the "King-Magnanimous," before whom a whole nation had prostrated
itself--I, the fierce warrior, who had shed the blood of the enemy,
restored a King to his throne, and had been the loved companion of
the most beautiful of Princesses--to be reduced to exhibiting myself
in-grotesque parades to astonish and amuse the public!...

Ah! how hard life seemed to me! How lonely I felt among these new
companions, in spite of their kind treatment of me!

As I was never to see Parvati again--never return to my lost
paradise--why should I prolong my sufferings?

I determined to once more go away, and to seek in the depths of the
wild forests the elephants' Burial Place, and there let myself die of
hunger, among the whitening bones of my mates.

Yes, this evening's performance should be the last.

When all would be asleep, I would quit my wooden shed; I would swim
across the narrow channel that separates the island of Bombay from the
main land, and go to find the resting-place where all my griefs would
die with me.

I was so preoccupied with the resolve I had taken, and the thoughts it
awakened, that I paid little attention to the extraordinary activity
which reigned that evening among the artists of the "_Grand Circus of
the Two Worlds_."

Costumes were being repaired, the accessories furbished up; familiar
acts were being rehearsed with an altogether unusual care; and they
were even sewing in great haste a gold fringe onto a drapery of red
velvet--for what purpose I could not imagine.

The performance began much later than usual. It was delayed as much as
possible, in spite of the impatient stampings of the public.

When I entered the Ring I saw, facing the entrance, a great space
separated from the rest by railings painted red; the front of this
improvised box was covered by a drapery of red velvet fringed with
gold, and ornamented with the Arms of England, and garlands of flowers.
Arm chairs were placed inside.

I knew at once that they expected some distinguished person; but he had
not yet arrived, for the box was empty, and made a great dark gap in
the midst of the other seats, which were all filled to overflowing by a
brilliant audience, gaily dressed.

Mr. Oldham had been obliged, unwillingly, to begin my performance, and
I was engaged in balancing on the Rolling Ball, when a general movement
of the audience led me to know that the illustrious Personage had
arrived.

Being careful not to lose my balance, it was impossible to look up to
see who it might be:

"It is most likely the President of Bombay," thought I, and I cared
nothing to see him.

But all at once the Ball rolled out from under my feet, I lost my
balance, and fell on my knees.... A woman's voice had cried:

"_Iravata!_"

Who could call my name of other days?... my name of happiness? And the
voice--that voice so sweet and musical, which penetrated me like a
sword, cast me onto my knees, and sent all the blood to my heart!... It
could be no voice but hers--her own voice! I was sure of it, and yet I
dared not look--it seemed as if mistaken I should die!

The audience, surprised and respectful, kept perfectly still; and the
voice, grown sad this time, spoke again:

"Have you forgotten me altogether, Iravata?"

In one bound I was on my feet, and before the box, which was just my
height, and through tears of joy I beheld Parvati, as if through flames
of fire.... She caressed me--kissed me--caring nothing for the crowds
who looked on in amazement.... And I! no human being, even, could
have expressed what I felt, and I was more than ever ashamed of the
hoarse cries, and the stampings that were the only means I possessed of
expressing a joy that took my breath away.

[Illustration: "OH, IRAVATA! IRAVATA!" SHE SAID IN A LOW VOICE]

"Ah! Iravata--Iravata!" said she in a low voice, close to my ear:
"Thou couldst leave me at such a trying time in my life?... I saw well
enough that thou didst not give thy consent to my marriage; no doubt
thou hadst read the soul of the Prince--and it did not please thee! Thy
wisdom certainly saw his nature clearly; but thou shouldst have done
as I did--resign thyself, and submit to fate, instead of abandoning
me--ungrateful as thou wert--because of _jealousy_? I knew thou wert
jealous--and I read the death of the Prince in thy looks of rage! If it
was to avoid committing a crime that thou didst leave Golconda, I must
forgive thee, in spite of the pain thou hast caused me. Thou mayest
return now--for the Prince is no more!"

What I did on hearing these happy tidings was certainly not proper, for
I have been instructed that it is not right to rejoice at the death of
any one ... but I could not help it! _I ran three times round the ring
at the top of my speed, and trumpeted so loudly that the Audience fled
in terror!_

The Prince Alemguir and Saphire-of-Heaven were in the box, but I had
not seen them at first, so blinded was I by tears.

They had sent for the Director of the Circus, and I now understood they
were speaking to him of my ransom.

He showed himself very modest and dignified in the presence of the King
and Queen of Golconda, and declared with great frankness that he did
not own me, but had only engaged me with my actual master, and that I
had so increased the profits of the company that he owed much to me,
while nothing whatever was owing to him.

It was, therefore, as a gracious present that he accepted, after many
protestations, the magnificent diamond which the King offered him, and
a very handsome sum for distribution among the actors of the troupe.

Moukounj now approached, and I made the Princess understand that I did
not wish him to be left behind. He conducted himself as well as he knew
how, and they did not perceive that he was, as usual--drunk. It was
agreed that he should go with us to Golconda.

All the Artists, in stage costume, were now assembled in the Ring.

I bade them good-bye as cordially as I could.... But already they
seemed far, far away--as if forgotten, and veiled in mists and
darkness....

I had once more found my Light--my Life! I could not see nor think of
anything else! And while the Champagne corks popped, and the glasses
clinked in my honour, it was as if in a dream that I left forever the
"Grand Circus of the Two Worlds"--absorbed in the great happiness of
feeling once more on my neck the light weight of my beloved Princess,
regained at last.

THE END





End of Project Gutenberg's The Memoirs of a White Elephant, by Judith Gautier