“While the elephant was meditatively standing over the body, and thinking what misfortunes happen to boasters, a man came along, carrying a spear; and seeing that the elephant was unaware of his presence, he thought what great luck had happened to him.
“Said he, ‘Ah, what fine tusks he has! I shall be rich with them, and shall buy slaves and cattle, and with these I will get a wife and a farm,’ saying which he advanced silently, and when he was near enough, darted his spear into a place behind the shoulder.
“The elephant turned around quickly, and, on beholding his enemy, rushed after him, and, overtaking him, mauled him until in a few moments he was a mangled corpse.
“At this time a woman approached, and seeing four lions and one elephant and her husband dead, she raised up her hands wonderingly, and cried, ‘How did all this happen?’ The elephant, hearing her voice, came from behind a tree, with a spear quivering in his side, and bleeding profusely. At the sight of him the woman turned round to fly, but the elephant cried out to her, ‘Nay, run not, woman, for I can do you no harm. The happy days in the woods are ended for all the tribes. The memory of this scene will never be forgotten. Animals will be at constant war one with another. Lions will no more greet elephants, the buffaloes will be shy, the rhinoceroses will live apart, and man, when he comes within the shadows, will think of nothing else than his terrors, and he will fancy an enemy in every shadow. I am sorely wounded, for thy man stole up to my side and drove his spear into me, and soon I shall die.’
“When she had heard these words the woman hastened home, and all the villagers, old and young, hurried into the woods, by the pool, where they found four lions, two elephants, and one of their own tribe lying still and lifeless.
“The words of the elephant have turned out to be true, for no man goes nowadays into the silent and deserted woods but he feels as though something was haunting them, and thinks of goblinry, and starts at every sound. Out of the shadows, which shift with the sun, forms seem crawling and phantoms appear to glide, and we are 355 in a fever almost from the horrible illusions of fancy. We breathe quickly and fear to speak, for the smallest vibration in the silence would jar on our nerves. I speak the truth, for when I am in the woods near the night, there swim before my eyes a multitude of terrible things which I never see by the light of day. The flash of a firefly is a ghost, the chant of a frog becomes a frightful roar, the sudden piping of a bird signalizes murder, and I run. No, no, no woods for me when alone.”
And Chakanja rose to his feet and went to his own quarters, solemnly shaking his head. But we all smiled at Chakanja, and thought how terribly frightened he would be if any one suddenly rose from behind a dark bush and cried “Boo!” to him.
SONG.
By Thomas Carew.
(1589-1639.)
Ask me no more where Jove bestows,