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.