It was well for the sanity of the king in the first months of that imprisonment that the elephant was a fellow prisoner; and by his low trumpetings conveyed to him his sympathy and loyalty. No other being dared, though a dirty beggar woman, bearing a small boy child upon her hip, frequently passed, hoping to see the king, but he sat in a corner out of sight, with his head bent forward upon his breast or overcome by despair rolled in the dust upon the floor.
Had the woman seen the face of the king she would not have known him. The bones of his cheeks stood out, his eyes were sunk in their sockets, and his face and body were black from the dust of the highway, which nearly choked him. Given barely sufficient water to sustain life, he constantly suffered from thirst, and in a parched voice mumbled half unconscious prayers: “Cast me not off, Oh God! for no one else can help me. Grant that in my affliction my eyes shall not grow blind to Thy goodness! Feeble as I am, Thou only art my refuge.”
The man was nearly mad; the elephant ate his rushes in contentment.
Once, when the sirocco blew so fiercely that the beggars sought shelter behind the angles of the city wall and the highway was deserted, a bunch of blue lotus flowers rolled at the King’s feet and a familiar voice whispered his name. He rose from his corner and peering through a crevice between the stones saw the face of the beggar woman whom he had seen pass and repass so often, always carrying on her hip a little boy or now and again feeding a handful of green rushes to Gisco. Reaching [pg 352] out his grimy hand and arm he touched the tips of her fingers, and when his eyes had grown accustomed to the light, he saw beside her face, that of his little son. Think you they cared for the sandstorm?
The baby slept and woke and spoke of being hungry and the wind blew on. The woman, because the jailer would shortly come, bringing a small earthen jar of water and a cake of bread made of millet seed, was forced to leave. From a small leather bag, hidden in the breast of her dress she took several priceless gems and tossed them through to the king, retaining several less valuable ones; then saying she would return between midnight and morning she went to a hovel built against the outer wall, in the beggar colony and prepared food for her boy. When the morning star showed itself, lifting the sleeping boy she came again to the prison, bringing a small skin of water and a bag of dried fruit. From that day she rose with the morning star and visiting her husband, brought water and food. When the boy slept in the afternoon, she sat in the narrow shade of the prison and held him, but dared not speak a word.
In time, other beggars seeing the beggar woman resting in the shade of the prison came there to rest and talk, and they came to know the king and talk with him, telling him what had occurred throughout the kingdom.
The captain of the gate guard, who had supervision of the king and Gisco, noticed that the beggar children played with and climbed over the elephant and fed him grass and bits of bread, though he would not let one of Chalginna’s troopers approach him. He also noticed that the beggars were beginning to gather about the king’s prison and to talk with him. This he thought to forbid, but before doing so asked Chalginna for instructions. He [pg 353] thought it a great joke, saying: “It seems the inscription is to be fulfilled. The prison is being converted into the palace of the king of the beggars. Do not interfere with the king’s court, let his subjects render obeisance. How have the mighty fallen.”
One day a beggar from a far country resting against the prison wall, heard the king bemoaning his fate and asked:
“Why weepest thou?”
“Once I was king of this country, but now I am a beggar and a prisoner.”