And the tale ended with Nell’s chin beginning to tremble, her beautiful eyes turning into two fountains, and finally by leaning her little head on Stasch’s shoulder and crying for sorrow, longing, and joy at the thought of the future meeting. Stasch rather imagined that his father would be proud of him and would say to him: “You have acted like a true Pole,” and he was then overcome by emotion, great longing, and enthusiasm, and an immovable courage, hard as steel, took possession of his heart. “I must,” he said to himself in these moments, “save Nell. I must go through these trials.” Then it seemed to him that there were no dangers he could not face, no obstacles he could not overcome.
But the final victory was far off yet. They worked their way through the grove of acacias, the long thorns of the bushes tearing even the hide of the elephant. Eventually more light penetrated the forest, and through the branches of the scattered trees a gray jungle could be seen in the distance. Although the heat was very oppressive, Stasch climbed out of the palanquin, settled himself on King’s neck, and looked around in search of herds of antelope or zebras, for he determined to provide more meat for them to eat.
To the right he saw two gazels and beyond them two ostriches. On passing the last group of trees the elephant turned off to the left, and then a different sight presented itself to the boy. Half a kilometer away he saw a very large field of manioc, and on the edge of the field several black people, apparently busy working.
“Negroes!” he cried out, turning to Nell.
His heart began to beat violently. For a moment he hesitated whether he should not return and hide in the acacias, but it occurred to him that in an inhabited district one must sooner or later be obliged to meet its inhabitants and have relations with them, and that the fate of their journey would depend on the nature of these relations; so after quick reflection he guided the elephant toward the field.
At the same moment Kali also appeared, and pointing to the group of trees, said:
“Great Man, over there is a negro village, and women are working in the manioc fields. Shall I ride to them?”
“We will ride there together,” answered Stasch, “and then you will tell them that we come as friends.”
“Sir, I know what to say to them,” cried the young negro, feeling his great importance.
Turning his horse toward the workers, he placed his hands trumpet-like to his mouth and cried: