CHAPTER XLIV.
OUT OF THE ASHES.
Yes it was Gip. Great, strong and faithful Gip. The only surviving animal of all that vast number which had started on that fateful morning for the cliffs. His great strength had enabled him to overcome all dangers and obstacles thus far, and on his back he bore the few whom he had saved. And his almost human intelligence, coupled with his animal sagacity, had enabled him to direct his course straight for the villa, through the almost impenetrable atmosphere and fearful darkness.
Each moment the riders had expected to see him overcome by these obstacles, but he stumbled on, going down on his knees at times, when he would become too exhausted to move another step; but after resting for a moment, he would struggle to his feet again and make another effort. He was almost blind; he must be for he had been exposed for so many hours to this cyclone of ashes. But he could still see a little, or else he would not have stopped when he was about to crush out the little remaining life left in Enola. Or, was it that animal instinct that made him realize that he was about to tread on a human being? But the light from the volcano which now half lit up the weird scene, must have enabled him to see the prostrate zebra and Enola, for he had only stood for a moment, when he lowered his monstrous trunk and catching the zebra firmly about the neck, lifted him completely from off Enola and laid it at one side. Then he caught up Enola as tenderly as a mother would lift her babe, and raised her to his back, where Onrai, who seemed to be the only one who had retained consciousness, took her in his arms, and after patting the noble beast gently on the end of his trunk to make him understand that he appreciated this last noble deed of his, he settled back in the crowded howdah and also lost consciousness.
Gip stood for a moment longer and looked about him. Yes, he must have seen, for his head turned until it was in range with the light seen by Enola, and then he starts towards it. The light grew larger as he drew nearer to it, and he was finally stopped by the terrace of the villa. He had only hesitated for a moment, however, and then had mounted the few steps and crossed the terrace to the high arched doorway of the villa. Over this had been drawn a silk covering, to keep out, as much as possible, the ashes and dust. Gip did not stop for this, however, but pushed right through it. Two or three frightened attendants saw the great beast enter with its burden of unconscious human beings, and hurrying up to it they stood for a moment, while Gip kneeled for those whom he had so bravely rescued, to step from his back. He was weak and almost exhausted; his great body heaved with a short quick respiration, which the heated air and over-exertion had caused. His back was covered with a thick coating of the ashes, and those who were lying or sitting in the howdah were almost buried in this awful death-dealing substance.
But Gip could no longer keep the tiring position, and giving a last short pant, he fell over on his side.
Those in the howdah were thrown upon the hard stone flooring and laid there in a heap. The attendants now recognizing the King and his white companions, hastened to their assistance, and in a very short time they were laid upon couches and after the scorched garments had been removed from the bodies, they were deluged with cool water and oil. No part of their bodies had escaped the tortures of the hot ashes and steam, and they were almost raw. The limbs of the men who had been buried for some time in the bed of cinders, were horribly burned and blistered, and even Enola, who, having laid under the dead zebra for quite a while, had escaped with hardly less injury. Gently the attendants worked on the bleeding bodies, not knowing whether life had left them or not. It matters little, they thought, for it was but a question of a little while longer until all would be buried beneath the shower of death, which was slowly but surely burying them.
But their love for the King and their regard for his guests still dominated over all other feelings, and they worked hard and faithfully on the survivors. Enola was the first to recover consciousness, and when she had fully recovered, and she remembered the awful ride and that Mrs. Graham and Nellie had been her companions, she tried hard to make the attendants understand that she wanted to know something of her friends. But the poor, bewildered women could not comprehend her meaning and sadly shook their heads. But Enola did not despair, and kept at them, until, in their desire to help her, they sent for one of the men who managed to grasp her meaning, and going out made inquiries about her companions.
They had not returned with the others who had been saved, and he now gave this information to Enola. She almost became frantic and made such pitiful signs for the attendant to go and search for her friends, that, notwithstanding his awful fear of the dust-laden atmosphere outside, which had killed so many of his companions, he went for Enola, promising to make a search for Mrs. Graham and Nellie. And he did. He persuaded two of his companions to accompany him, and with them he managed to reach the stables, where the only three remaining elephants had been left before the eruption. It took considerable time to persuade the beasts to leave their comfortable quarters and go into the darkness outside. But the darkness cleared in a short time, and the lurid light from the volcano made things as light as day. The shower of ashes ceased, and the atmosphere became comparatively clear, and the elephants strode forth into the deep covering of ashes.
The attendant had been able to get but little information from Enola, as to what direction they had come from when they turned their zebras back. She could give them positively no information and could not even make them understand that her zebra had wandered from the avenue, some distance, she thought from the villa; for she could not articulate a word, and the men were not accustomed to reading signs.
But the men started, each taking a different course from the front of the villa, hoping in this way to find the lost women. One of the attendants stumbled over the body of Enola’s zebra the first thing, but after examining this and learning that neither of the women were with it, he again took up the tramp and had gone but a little distance further, when his elephant stopped. The man looked about him but could see nothing. He tried to urge the elephant forward, but he would not move. He then slid from its back and was half buried in the soft ashes. But his foot had struck something which was soft and giving, and stooping down, just above the surface he saw a woman’s head. It was Mrs. Graham. He gently pushed the ashes away from her body, and speaking to the elephant, it kneeled, and the man, after much trouble, managed to crawl into the howdah with his lifeless burden. He continued a short distance further, when, not finding the body of Nellie, he returned to the villa.