The Day of Resis

by Lillian Frances Mentor

Now the noise drowned their voices and conversation was given up. The air seemed full of electricity; the flesh tingled with it; the nostrils inhaled it and a copperish taste was left in the mouth.

“Look,” shouted Enola, “what is that fearful mass approaching, and hear that terrible sound. It is like the dashing of thousands of waves against the rocks, or the tearing asunder of mighty mountains.”

This was true; and now in the lurid lightning could be seen the dark clouds flying over Mother Earth, crushing all in its way. On the left of the villa was an open space, probably five miles broad, and on the far edge of this, as Enola spoke, could be seen the black cloud approaching. It seemed to take everything in its course and now the air was filled with all kinds of debris; huge logs of wood and even large boulders were seen flying through the air. It was a seething, hurling mass, made more awful by the ear-piercing noise and the continuous lightning.

“A cyclone,” shouted Mr. Graham, but his voice could hardly be heard above the fearful din. “Hasten,” he continued, “into the house,” and leading his wife by one hand and Nellie by the other he hurried toward the entrance.

Onrai took Enola by the arm and was hurrying with all speed toward the large arch, when Enola, looking at the elephants, saw Gip looking pitifully at her and extending his trunk toward her as if begging her to help him. “Poor Gip,” she said, and freeing herself from Onrai’s retaining arm, she walked to the edge of the terrace and patted the elephant on the trunk stretched toward her.

“Come Enola or it will be too late,” said Onrai. But it was even then too late, for Enola had leaned too far over the edge and losing her balance, fell to the lawn beneath. The distance was not great and Enola was not hurt, so she picked herself up and started for the steps leading to the terrace. But the wind had now grown so fierce she could hardly keep an upright position, and before she realized it she was being hurried forward with a speed which almost took her feet from under her. On by the steps she sped, unable to battle against the wind and force her way up these.

Gip had followed her, wonderingly at first, but at last, seeming to realize her peril, quickened his pace and just as the wind was about to hurl her to the ground, he grasped her about the waist with his powerful trunk and turned toward the terrace again; but the awful wind was even stronger than this mighty animal, and he was losing ground each step. Bravely he battled, holding Enola far above his head, his trunk encircling her body just tightly enough to keep her from slipping through its folds. His great body now began to sway in the gale and it looked for a moment as if both elephant and Enola would be picked up and swept into the fearful, swirling holocaust overhead.

Gip knew his danger, so turning his back to the storm he hurried on with it. At first he traveled only in a trot as if reluctant to give up to the power of the storm, but his pace grew faster and faster as this fearful power asserted itself, until he was flying over the ground, he seemed to no longer touch the ground so rapid was his pace. He had thrown Enola over on his back so that she could rest her limbs, but he still kept a firm hold on her with his trunk, and they kept up the mad rush together. The air was filled with debris of all kinds and Enola was afraid to open her eyes for fear of being blinded. On they rushed, the elephant keeping up the mad pace before the wind. One moment it would be as black as Erebus; the next the lightning’s glare would break through the dirt filled atmosphere. It was a seething mass, a hurricane sweeping all before it; twisting trees from their roots or snapping their huge trunks like straws; sucking up great quantities of water as it crossed inlets of the lake; picking up in its mighty grasp cows, sheep, deer, zebra and all other animals excepting the huge elephants, whose great weight kept them from being carried from earth.

Enola was lying flat on Gip’s back, he holding her there as if he understood that she would be drawn from his grasp if he allowed her to sit up for even a moment. Grandly the noble beast fought against the fearful storm; the awful pace had now kept up so long he was fast giving out, and Enola could feel his grasp growing weaker, and feel the weary limbs give way when they would strike the earth; his breath came quick and he was gasping like a dying human being; but he kept on fighting, still fighting that enemy which was each moment getting the best of his efforts.

He stumbled and fell to his knees, but he was up again in an instant and hurrying before the wind; again he fell, and this time his huge body lay flat on its side, but he had held Enola aloof and she had been only slightly jarred. A groan escaped the noble beast as he tried to regain his feet. “Brave Gip!” said Enola, as she patted him on the trunk. “Once more, Gip, just once more, my noble friend, and we may yet escape.” Gip made a supreme effort, and regained his feet. The thought now occurred to Enola that if she could guide the elephant out of this current of wind which was hurrying them on to destruction, they might yet be saved. She had seen the attendants touch the elephants on the right or left side of the head when wanting them to move in either direction, and she determined to try it. Reaching her hand out as far as she could, she was just able to touch the right ear of the elephant.