[CHAPTER XI]
THE DEATH OF AARON AND ELISHEBA
At the end of forty-two long days at sea we arrived at Liverpool. It was near the end of autumn. The weather was cold and foggy. Elisheba was failing in health, as I feared she would do in coming from the warm, humid climate along the equator, and, at the same time, having to undergo a change of food.
On arriving at the end of our long and arduous voyage, I secured quarters for them, and quickly had them stowed away in a warm, sunny cage. Elisheba began to recover from the fatigue and worry of the journey, and for a time was more cheerful than she had been since I had known her. Her appetite returned, the symptoms of fever passed away, and she seemed benefited by the voyage rather than injured. Aaron was in the best of health, and had shown no signs of any evil results from the trip.
On reaching the landing-stage in Liverpool, some friends who met us there expressed a desire to see them, and I opened their cage in the waiting-room for that purpose. When they beheld the throng of huge figures with white faces, long skirts and big coats, they were almost frantic with fear. They had never before seen anything like it, and they crouched back in the corner of the cage, clinging to each other and screaming in terror.
When they saw me standing by them they rushed to me, seized me by the legs, and climbed up to my arms. Finding they were safe here, they stared for a moment, as if amazed at the crowd, and then Elisheba buried her face under my chin, and refused to look at any one. They were both trembling with fright, and I could scarcely get them into their cage again; but after they were installed in their quarters with Dr. Cross, they became reconciled to the sight of strangers in such costumes.
In their own country they had never seen anything like this, for the natives to whom they were accustomed wear no clothing as a rule, except a small piece of cloth tied round the waist, and the few white men they had seen were mostly dressed in white; but here was a great crowd in skirts and overcoats, and I have no doubt that to them it was a startling sight for the first time.
During the first two weeks after arriving at this place, Elisheba improved in health and temper until she was not like the same creature; but about that time she contracted a severe cold. A deep, dry cough, attended by pains in the chest and sides, together with a piping hoarseness, betrayed the nature of her disease, and gave just cause for apprehension.
During frequent paroxysms of coughing she pressed her hands upon her breast or side to arrest the shock, and thus lessen the pain it caused. When quiet, she sat holding her hands on her throat, her head bowed down, and her eyes drooping or closed. Day by day the serpent of disease drew his deadly coils closer and closer about her wasting form, but she bore it with a patience worthy of a human being.
The sympathy and forbearance of Aaron were again called into action, and the demand was not in vain. Hour after hour he sat with her locked in his arms, as he is seen in the portrait given herewith. He was not posing for a picture, nor was he aware how deeply his manners touched the human heart. Even the brawny men who work about the place paused to watch him in his tender offices to her, and his staid keeper was moved to pity by his kindness and his patience.
For days she lingered on the verge of death. She became too feeble to sit up, but as she lay on her bed of straw, he sat by her side, resting his folded arms upon her, and refusing to allow any one to touch her. His look of deep concern showed that he felt the gravity of her case, in a degree that bordered on grief. He was grave and silent, as if he foresaw the sad end that was near at hand. My frequent visits were a source of comfort to him, and he evinced a pleasure in my coming that bespoke his confidence in me and faith in my ability to relieve his suffering companion; but, alas! she was beyond the aid of human skill.