The Land of Foam

VII. THE MIGHT OF THE FOREST

The most extraordinary trees towered above the thick undergrowth. Their thin trunks, with convex transverse ribs, were crowned with flat, fan-like platforms of short branches bearing big leaves above which projected long, straight shoots, like green swords up to ten cubits in length. *(Lobelias)

Four of these trees, two on either side, stood at the forest edge like sentinels, their swords raised threateningly. The travellers passed between them, picking their way through thorn-scrub. A huge wart-hog, with long, curved fangs and an ugly lumpy head, appeared from under the brush, grunted angrily at the intruders and disappeared…

On the very first day in the forest Cavius lost the stick on which he had cut forty-nine notches to mark the number of days’ journey; after that they lost count of time. The huge forest, monotonous and unvarying, fixed itself forever in Pandion’s memory.

The party marched in silence, and whenever they tried to speak, their voices reverberated noisily under the impenetrable green vault overhead. The wide expanses of the golden plain had never given them such a feeling of the insignificance of man; here they seemed completely lost in the depths of an alien country. The huge stems of creeping plants, often as thick as a man’s body, spiralled round the smooth trunks of the trees, hung down from above in huge nets and separate loops, sometimes forming a solid curtain. The trees branched out at a tremendous height above the travellers’ heads from trunks that faded away in the grey twilight. Stretches of foul water, covered with green slime, frequently barred their way; at times they came across streams of dark, noiselessly flowing water. In the rare glades the sun blinded eyes long accustomed to the gloom of the forest, and the density of the undergrowth forced the travellers to avoid such places. Tree-ferns, four times the height of a man, such as they had never seen before, spread their pale-green, feathery leaves like huge wings.

(* The Cyathea and Todea (grape fern) reach a height of more than 30 ft.)

The clean-cut greyish leaves of mimosa formed a delicate pattern in the sunbeams. Myriads of flowers — blood-red, orange, violet, white — stood out brilliantly against the background of light green leaves of every possible kind: big and broad, long and narrow, regular-shaped, indented and serrate. The wild tangle of vegetation was made even more chaotic by the spirals of creeping lianas, while everywhere long thorns stuck out to tear ruthlessly the flesh of the traveller. These glades were filled with the constant jabber and chatter of birds so noisy that it seemed as though all the life of the forest was concentrated at these points.

The travellers checked up the direction of their journey by the sun and again plunged into the twilight of the forest, finding their way along hollows, washed out by the rain, and along river-beds and getting a fresh orientation from the sun’s rays that occasionally slanted down through the dense foliage. The guides tried to steer clear of the glades for yet another reason: the trees near them gave shelter to terribly dangerous insects, deadly black wasps and huge ants. Big lichens, leathery grey excrescences and other growths covered the tree-trunks while the high ridges of their roots were covered in a green coat of moss. These flat roots, often as much as five or six cubits high, branched out from the ribs of the gigantic tree-trunks like buttresses. The whole party of nineteen men could easily have bivouacked in the deep pits between roots that crossed over each other, making all movement in the forest difficult; the travellers either had to climb over them or go round them, making their way through narrow corridors. Their feet sank into the thick carpet of half-rotten branches, leaves and dried shoots that covered the ground. Bunches of whitish toadstools gave off heavy odour, like that of a corpse. Their weary legs knew rest only in places where the trees were not so high and the roots did not bar the way and the ground was covered with soft moss. These places, however, were densely overgrown with thorn-bushes that had to be avoided or a path had to be cut through them, which again caused loss of time and effort. A kind of spotted slug fell from the branches on to the bare shoulders of the travellers and burned their skin with its poisonous slime. On rare occasions the shadow of some animal could be discerned in the gloom of the forest; but it disappeared so quickly and silently that the travellers were often unable to say what kind of animal it was. At night the same profound silence reigned to be broken only by the plaintive howl of some unknown animal and by the raucous cries of some unknown bird.

The travellers crossed a large number of low ridges of hills but never once reached open country devoid of trees. The forest between the ridges was thicker than ever; the humid, heavy air of the valleys, rank with rotting vegetation, made it difficult for the men to breathe.

When the party reached a valley in the bed of which a rapid stream of cold water flowed between big boulders, they sat down to rest.

After that the long uphill climb began again.

For two days they continued their uphill march, the forest all the time growing denser and darker. There were no longer any glades where food was to be found and wind-felled trees barred their way. In order to avoid the thorny curtain of thin resilient stems that hung down from above and the impenetrable undergrowth of shrubs and small trees, they were forced to crawl on all fours along the rain gullies covering the hillsides.

The hard earth crumbled under their hands and feet, but they crawled on through this labyrinth taking their direction only from the dry gullies.

Gradually the air grew colder as though the party had penetrated into deep and damp catacombs.

It was pitch dark by the time they reached the top of the slope and were apparently on the edge of a plateau. There were no more rain-water gullies, and the travellers halted for the night in order not to lose direction. Not a star was to be seen through the dense vault of leaves. Somewhere far above them a wind was raging. Pandion lay sleepless for a long time, listening to the roar of the forest that reminded him of the noise of a nearby sea. The rumble, rustle and clatter of the branches in the strong gusts of wind merged into one mighty sound resembling the regular beating of the surf on the shore.

Dawn came very late, the sun’s rays struggling to pierce the thick mist. At long last the invisible sun overcame the twilight of the forest, and before the men’s eyes a gloomy, oppressive scene opened up.

The black and white trunks of enormous trees, a hundred and fifty cubits high, disappeared in a thick milky mist that completely hid their mossy branches. Moss and lichens, sodden with water, hung down from the trees in long dark braids and grey beards, at times waving to and fro at a terrific height above the ground. Water that exuded from the spongy network of twisted roots, grass and moss slopped underfoot. Dense thickets of broad-leafed bushes hindered all progress. Big pale flowers, like honeycombed balls, swayed gently on their long stems in the mist.,

Black and white columns, four cubits in diameter, stood like an army in serried ranks; the grey mist rolled round them and thin streams of water trickled down their bark. Some of the trunks were coated with a thick growth of sodden moss.

Nothing could be seen at a distance of more than thirty or forty cubits in that awful forest; to make any progress the travellers had to cut a path for themselves at the foot of those forest giants.

The piled-up barriers of fallen giants disheartened even the most hardened travellers. The worst thing of all was the impossibility of judging direction since there was no means of checking up.

The Negroes shivered in the cold mist, frightened by the unbelievable might of the forest; the Libyans were completely discouraged. They all had the feeling that they had entered the domain of the forest gods, a place forbidden to man, from which there was no way out.

Cavius made a sign to Pandion; they armed themselves with heavy knives and began frantically to carve a way through the wet branches. Gradually the others began to take heart and they worked in shifts, relieving each other; climbing over gigantic barricades of fallen trees; losing their way in their efforts to find a path through the enormous roots and again plunging into green thickets. The hours passed; overhead there was the same white gloom; the water continued to drip slowly and heavily from the trees; the air did not grow any warmer and it was only by the greyish-red hue of the mist that they realized that evening was drawing nigh…

“There’s no way out in any direction!” With these words Kidogo sat down on a root, pressing his head between his hands in despair. Two other guides had returned earlier with similar information.

For a distance of about a thousand cubits a narrow glade stretched across the path they had cut. Behind them stood the gloomy giant forest through which they had been hacking their way by superhuman efforts for the past three days. Before them stood an impenetrable growth of bamboo. The polished, jointed stems rose to a height of twenty cubits, gracefully bowing their thin feathery heads. The bamboo grew so thick that there was no possibility of penetrating that dense throng of jointed stalks as straight as spear-shafts, that stood like a solid wall before the travellers. The polished surface of the bamboo was so hard that the travellers’ bronze knives were blunted by the first strokes. Axes or heavy swords would be needed to attack that wall. It seemed that there was no way round the bamboo; the glade was bounded by dense forest thickets and the stand of bamboo stretched in both directions far into the misty distance of the plateau.

The customary energy of the travellers had been sapped by the cold, by insufficient food and the struggle against the awful forest; the latter part of their journey had been too much for them. Nevertheless they could not contemplate the possibility of having to turn back.

To get through those awful forests it was not sufficient to keep their former general direction of south-west; it was not enough to hack and carve their way through the dense vegetation; they also had to know where the path could be cut. The right way could only be indicated by those who lived in the forest. So far they had not met any people in the jungles and a search for them might well end up on the gridirons of a cannibal barbecue.

We haven’t made it! was the thought that was reflected in the faces of all nineteen men, in their knitted brows, in their grimaces of despair and in the mask of mute submission.

When Kidogo recovered from his first attack of despair, he threw back his head to look up at the giant branches that stretched over the glade at a height of a hundred cubits. Pandion went quickly over to his friend, guessing at what was in his mind.

“Do you think it’s possible to climb them?” he asked, looking at tree-trunks that were perfectly smooth to a tremendous height above the ground.

“We must, even if it takes us a whole day,” answered Kidogo, despondently. “We must go either forward or back, but there must be no more guesswork, there’s nothing left to eat.”

“That one,” said Pandion, pointing to a white-barked giant that rose high above the glade, its crooked branches spreading like a star against the background of the sky. “You can see a long way from that tree.”

Kidogo shook his head.

“No, the trees with white or with black bark* are no good. (Any of the many African hardwood trees such as ebony, ironwood, Macaranga or polyscias, all of which have either black or white bark.)

The wood is as hard as iron, you can’t drive a knife into them let alone a wooden peg. If we can find a tree with red bark and big leaves we’ll climb it.”

The men spread along the glade in search of a suitable tree. Soon somebody shouted that he had found one. The tree was lower than the iron giants, but it stood close against the bamboo wall, rising a goad fifty cubits above it. The travellers with the greatest difficulty cut two bamboo stalks, split them into pegs a cubit long and made a point at one end of each of them. Kidogo and Mpafu took heavy clubs and began driving the pegs into the soft wood of the tree-trunk, climbing higher and higher until they reached a liana twining round the tree in a spiral. Kidogo and his companion belted themselves around with thin lianas, pressed their feet firmly against the tree-trunk and, leaning far back from the tree, began climbing to a prodigious height. Soon their bodies became tiny dark figures against the background of heavy clouds that covered the sky. Pandion grew jealous of his companions; they were high up above him, they could see the wide world, while he remained below in the shadow like a reddish-blue worm such as they met in the rain-water gullies in the forest.

He made a sudden decision and seized hold of the bamboo pegs hammered into the tree. He merely waved his hand at Cavius’ shout of warning, scrambled quickly up the tree and reached the twining liana; he out off the end of a thinner liana that ‘hung over his head, belted it round himself and followed Kidogo’s example. He soon found that this method of climbing was far from easy.

The liana cut into his back and the moment he relaxed the tension in his legs, his feet slipped and he banged his knees against the coarse bark. With the greatest difficulty Pandion climbed halfway up the tree. The tops of the bamboos swayed beneath him in an irregular yellow sea, but it was still a long way to climb to the first huge branches of the tree. He heard Kidogo call from above and a strong liana with a noose at the end fell on to his shoulder. Pandion passed the noose under his arms and those above pulled gently on the liana, rendering him the greatest possible help. With his legs all lacerated, tired but joyful, Pandion soon reached the bigger lower branches. Here Kidogo and his companion had seated themselves comfortably between two big boughs.

Pandion, from a height of eighty cubits, looked out towards the distant horizon for the first time in many days. Bamboo thickets formed — a belt encircling the forest on the high plateau; it stretched to the left and right as far as the eye could see, although in width it was no more than four or five thousand cubits. Behind the bamboo rose a low ridge of black rocks stretching due west in a chain of sloping crags some distance from each other. Beyond them, again, the ground began to fall gently. An endless chain of densely wooded hills looked like solid green clouds separated by the narrow slits of ravines filled with curling, dark mists. In these ravines lay endless days of hungry, arduous marching through gloomy twilight, for that was the direction in which the party had to travel. Nowhere could they see any gap in the solid green wall over which floated huge ragged clouds of white mist, no glade and no wide valley. It was doubtful whether the travellers had sufficient strength left to fight their way forward even to that visible distance. Farther, beyond the twilight gloom of the horizon, they might be faced with the same all over again, and, if so, it spelt certain death Kidogo turned away from the countryside that rolled away beneath him, catching Pandion’s glance as he did so. The Hellene saw alarm and great weariness in the dilated eyes of his friend; Kidogo’s inexhaustible vitality had gone, his face was wrinkled in a bitter grimace.

“We must look back,” said Kidogo in a dismal voice; he suddenly straightened up and walked along a branch that stretched horizontally high above the bamboo.

With difficulty Pandion restrained a cry of fear, but the Negro walked on swaying slightly, as though it were nothing at all, until he reached the end of the branch, making the leaves tremble and the bough bend downwards under his weight. Pandion sat dead still with fright as-Kidogo sat down with his legs astride the branch, held himself firmly by grasping thinner branches and began to study the country beyond the right-hand corner of the glade. Pandion did not dare follow ‘his friend. Holding their breath he and Mpafu awaited Kidogo’s report. The other sixteen men of the party, almost invisible to those on the tree, were eagerly following all their movements.

For a long time Kidogo sat swaying on the springy branch and then, without a word, returned to the tree-trunk.

“It’s a bad thing not to know the way,” he said sorrowfully. “We could have got here much more easily. Over there,” the Negro waved his hand to the north-west, “the grassy plain isn’t far from us. We should have gone farther to the right instead of entering the forest… We must go back to the grasslands. Perhaps there are people there; there are usually more people near the forest edge than there are in the forest itself or out in the plains.”

The descent from the tree proved much more difficult and dangerous than the ascent. If it had not been for the help of his companions, Pandion would never have been able to descend so quickly, or, far more likely, he would have fallen and been killed. He had no sooner put his feet on solid ground than his knees gave way under him and he lay spread-eagled on the ground amidst the shouts and laughter of his companions. Kidogo told the others what he had seen from the treetop and proposed setting off at right angles to the path they had mapped out. To Pandion’s great surprise not a single word of protest was raised, although everybody realized that they had suffered defeat in their battle with the forest and that they would probably be detained a long time. Even the stubborn Etruscan, Cavius, was silent, apparently because he realized how the men had suffered in that hard but futile struggle.

Pandion remembered that at the beginning of their journey Kidogo had said that the way round the forest was a long and dangerous one. Strong savage tribes, for whom the nineteen travellers did not constitute a serious force, lived along the rivers and on the verge of the forest…

Grassland, with low trees growing at regular intervals like a planted orchard, sloped down to a fast river, with black rocks huddled together on its far bank. The river had piled up a long barrier of drift-wood against the rocks — tree-trunks, branches and reeds, dried and whitened in the sun.

The party of former slaves skirted a palm grove that had been smashed by elephants and made camp under a low tree. The aroma of the resin that seeped out of its trunk and monotonous rustling of the rags of silky bark, brought drowsiness to the weary travellers.

Kidogo suddenly rose to his knees; his companions, too, were immediately on the alert. A huge elephant was approaching the river. Its appearance might bode no good for them. They watched the loose, sweeping gait of the animal that seemed to be waddling unhurriedly along inside its own thick skin. The elephant drew nearer, carelessly waving its trunk, and there was something in its behaviour that differed greatly from the usual caution of those sensitive beasts. Suddenly human voices rang out, but the elephant did not even raise its huge ears that lay back on its head. The bewildered travellers looked at each other and stood up only to fall down to the ground immediately, as though they had been ordered to do so; alongside the elephant they noticed a number of human figures. Only then did Pandion’s companions notice a man lying on the elephant’s broad neck, his head rested on his crossed arms on top of the animal’s head. The elephant went straight to the river and entered the water, stirring up the mud with its huge tree-trunks of legs. It suddenly spread out its ears which made its head seem three times the normal size. Its tiny brown eyes stared into the depths of the river. The man lying on the elephant’s back sat up and slapped the animal sharply on its sloping skull. A loud shout “Heya!” resounded up and down the river. The elephant waved its trunk, seized with it a big log from amongst the drift-wood, lifted it high over its head and hurled it into the water. The heavy log made a big splash and disappeared under the water to reappear farther downstream a few moments later. The elephant threw a few more logs into the water and then, stepping cautiously, walked out to the middle of the river, turned round with its head against the current and stood still.

The people who had come with the elephant — there were eight of them, brown-skinned youths and girls — with loud shouts and roars of laughter plunged into the cold river. They played in the water ducking each other, and their laughter and loud slaps delivered on wet bodies resounded clearly on all sides.

The man on the elephant shouted merrily but watched the river unceasingly, from time to time making the elephant throw heavy logs into the water.

The travellers watched what was happening in the greatest astonishment. The friendship between people and the enormous elephant was something unbelievable, an unheard of miracle; still, at a distance of no more than three hundred cubits from them, stood the huge, grey monster, submitting to the will of man. How could it have happened that an animal without equal in size and strength, the undisputed ruler of field and forest, had become subservient to weak and fragile man, an insignificant creature compared with the mass of the elephant, six cubits high at the shoulders? Who were these people who had tamed the lord of the African plains?

Cavius’ eyes were gleaming as he nudged Kidogo. The latter turned from watching the merry play of the young people and whispered in Cavius’ ear:

“I heard about this when I was a boy. I was told that somewhere along the line where the forest meets the plain there are people known as the Elephant People. Now I see for myself that the story was a true one. That elephant is standing there to protect the bathers from crocodiles… I have also heard that these people are related to my tribe and speak a language similar to ours…

“Do you want to go to them?” asked Cavius thoughtfully, never for a moment taking his eyes off the man on the elephant.

“I’d like to, but I don’t know…” stammered Kidogo. “If their tongue’s mine, they’ll understand us and we’ll have a chance to find the road we need. If they speak another tongue, things will go badly with us — they’ll destroy us like mice!”

“Do they eat human flesh?” asked Cavius after a pause.

“I have heard that they don’t. They’re a rich and powerful people,” answered the Negro, chewing a blade of grass to hide his indecision.

“I’d try to find out what language they speak while they are here, to avoid going to their village,” said Cavius. “These people are only unarmed youngsters and if the man on the elephant attacks us, we can hide in the grass and bushes. In their village we’d all be killed if we didn’t come to an agreement with the Elephant People…”

Kidogo liked Cavius’ advice. He stood up, displaying his full height, and walked slowly towards the river. A shout from the man on the elephant put a sudden stop to the fun in the water; the bathers stood still, up to their waists in water, looking at the opposite bank.

The elephant turned menacingly in the direction of the approaching Kidogo; his trunk made a rustling noise as it waved over the long, white tusks, and its ears, like huge, pendant wings, spread out again. The man on the elephant’s back looked fixedly at the newcomer; in his right hand he held a broad knife with a hook at the end that trembled slightly as he raised it, ready to use it.

Without a word Kidogo walked almost to the edge of the water, laid his spear on the ground, placed his foot on it, and spread out his weaponless arms.

“Greetings, friend,” he said slowly, carefully pronouncing every word. “I am here with my companions. We are lonely fugitives on our way home. We want to ask for help from your tribe…”

The man on the elephant remained silent. The travellers hiding under the tree waited with bated breath to see whether the man would understand Kidogo’s speech or not. An important turning point in the fate of the fugitives depended on what was to follow.

The man on the elephant slowly lowered his knife. The elephant shifted its weight from one foot to another in the swirling water and lowered its trunk, allowing it to hang between its tusks. Suddenly the man spoke and a sigh of relief burst from Pandion’s breast, while a shudder of joy ran through Kidogo who was standing with his body tensely strained. The speech of the elephant driver contained strong stresses and sibilant sounds that were not to be heard in Kidogo’s melodious language, but even Pandion recognized some familiar words.

“Where are you from, stranger?” came the question that seemed arrogant from the height of the elephant’s back. “And where are your companions?”

Kidogo explained that they had been captives in Tha-Quem and were making their way back home, to the sea coast. The Negro beckoned the others and the whole party of nineteen, downcast and emaciated, came down to the river-bank.

“Tha-Quem?” repeated the man on the elephant, pronouncing the syllables with difficulty. “What’s that? Where is that country?”

Kidogo told of the powerful country that stretched along a mighty river in the north-east, and the elephant driver nodded his head understandingly.

“I’ve heard of it, but it’s a terribly long way away. How could you have come so far?” There was a note of mistrust in the man’s words.

“That is a long story,” answered Kidogo wearily. “Look at these men.” The Negro pointed to Cavius, Pandion and the group of Libyans. “Have you ever seen anybody like them near here?”

With a look of interest the man on the elephant examined faces such as he had never before seen. The distrust gradually faded from his face; he slapped the elephant’s head with his hand.

“I am too young to decide anything without the elders. Come over to our bank of the river while the elephant is still in the water and wait there. What shall I tell the chiefs about you?”

“Tell them that weary travellers ask permission to rest in your village and find out the way to the sea. We need nothing more,” answered Kidogo laconically.

“Never have we heard such things or seen such people,” mused the elephant driver. Turning to his own people, he shouted: “You go ahead, I’ll follow!”

The young people, who had been studying the newcomers in silence, hurried obediently to the bank, looking back and talking amongst themselves. The driver turned his elephant so that it stood sideways across the stream. The travellers crossed the river, breast high in the water. Then the driver made his animal set out at a smart pace and, following the bathers, soon disappeared amongst the scanty trees. The former slaves sat down on big stones to await their fate with some trepidation. The Libyans were more worried than the others, although Kidogo assured them that the Elephant People would not do them any harm.

Shortly after this four elephants appeared, coming across the fields, with wide platforms of plaited branches on their backs. Six warriors armed with bows and exceptionally broad spears sat on each of the platforms. Under this escort the former slaves reached the village which proved to be quite close to the meeting place, on a bend of the same river, some four thousand cubits to the south-west.

There were about three hundred huts dotted amongst green trees on a hilly site.

To the left of the village spread an open forest, and some distance to the right of it stood a huge palisade of gigantic logs with pointed tops, solidly buttressed on the outside with other logs. Around this structure there was a deep moat fenced with a second palisade of pointed logs. Pandion expressed surprise at the size of the structure, but Kidogo made a guess that this was the pen for the elephants.

Just as they had done many days ago in the east, the travellers stood before the chiefs and elders of a big village; again and again they told their marvellous tale of insurgent slaves to which the great feat of a long journey through an unknown land was now added. The chiefs questioned the travellers closely, examined their weapons and the brand of Pharaoh on their backs and made Cavius and Pandion tell them about their countries to the north of the distant sea.

Pandion was astonished at the extensive knowledge of these people; they had not only heard of the Land of Nub, where the travellers had come from, but they also knew many other places in Africa in the north, south, east and west.

Kidogo was delighted. The local inhabitants would show him the way to his home and the wanderers would soon reach their goal by following the true road.

A short meeting of the Council of Elders decided the fate of the newcomers: they were to be permitted to rest for a few days in the village and would be given food and shelter in accordance with the sacred laws of hospitality.

The former slaves were given a big hut on the outskirts of the village where they could enjoy a good rest. They were still more encouraged by the fact that the Elephant People would show them the right way and that their wanderings were coming to an end.

Pandion, Kidogo and Cavius wandered about the village, observing the life of the people who had won their admiration by their power over the gigantic animals. Pandion was astounded by the long fences of elephant tusks where cattle were impounded. (Amongst the Shilluks, on the upper reaches of the Nile, fences of elephant tusks were still to be met with in the middle of the 19th century.)

It seemed to Pandion that this was a display of deliberate contempt for the terrible monsters. What number of tusks must these people possess if they could waste the valuable ivory on such things? When Pandion asked this question of one of the villagers, the latter very importantly suggested that he ask the chiefs for permission to see the big storehouse in the centre of the village.

“So many tusks are stacked there,” said the man, pointing to an open space between two huts, a hundred and fifty cubits in length, and he raised a stick above his head to indicate the height of the stack of tusks.

“How do you make the elephants obey you?” asked Pandion, unable to repress his curiosity.

The man frowned and looked at him with suspicion.

“That’s kept secret from strangers,” he answered slowly. “Ask the chiefs about it, if you want to know. Those who wear round their necks a gold chain with a red stone in it are the elephant trainers.”

Pandion remembered then that they had been forbidden to approach the compound bounded by the moat, and said no more, annoyed with himself for the mistake he had made. At that moment Kidogo called him; the Negro was in a long shed where several men were working. Pandion saw that it was a potter’s shop where potters were busy making big earthenware pots for grain and beer.

Kidogo could not retain himself… He took a big lump of moist, well-kneaded clay, squatted on his heels, lifted his eyes to the reed-thatched roof and then began modelling. His big strong hands longed to be back at their favourite work and his movements were full of confidence. Pandion watched his friend at work; the potters laughed amongst themselves but did not cease their work. The Negro’s competent hands slowly cut, squeezed and smoothed the soft clay until the formless mass began to take on the shape of the wide, sloping back with folds of skin hanging like sacks from the shoulders that are typical of the elephant. The potters soon ceased their chatter, left their pots and gathered around Kidogo, but the Negro was so engrossed in his work that he did not even notice them.

The thick legs stood firmly on the ground, the elephant had raised its head with its trunk extended in front of it. Kidogo found some twigs which he stuck fanwise into the clay and on this framework moulded the elephant’s ears, stretched like sails on either side. Exclamations of admiration burst from the lips of the watchers. One of the potters, unobserved, left the shed.

Kidogo was working on the animal’s hind-legs and did not notice that the throng of watchers had been joined by one of the chiefs, an old man with a long thin neck, a fleshy, hooked nose and a tiny grey beard. On the chief’s breast Pandion saw the gold chain of one of the chief elephant trainers.

In silence the old man watched Kidogo finish his work. Kidogo stood back and rubbed the clay off his hands, smiling and critically examining the model of an elephant a cubit high. The potters treated him to cries of admiration. The old chief raised his thick brows and the noise stopped immediately. He touched the wet clay like one who knew the business and then made a sign to Kidogo to come to him.

“I see you must be a great craftsman,” said the chief, giving his words great significance, “if you can do so easily something that not one of our men can do. Tell me, can you make a statue of a man and not only of an elephant?” And the chief tapped himself on the breast.

Kidogo shook his head. The chief’s face grew dark.

“But there’s a craftsman amongst us who is better than I, a craftsman from a distant northern country,” said Kidogo. “He can make your statue.” The Negro pointed at Pandion who was standing nearby.

The old man repeated his question to Pandion, who, seeing the imploring eyes of his friend, agreed.

“But I must tell you, chief,” said Pandion, “that in my country we make statues from soft stone or carve them from wood. I have neither tools nor stone here. I can only make your statue from this clay and up to here.” He passed his hand across his chest. “The clay will soon dry up and crack; your picture will last only a few days…”

The chief smiled.

“I want to see what the stranger craftsman can do,” he said. “And let our potters watch him.”

“All right, I’ll try,” answered Pandion. “But you must sit before me while I work.”

“What for?” asked the astonished chief. “Can’t you model the clay like he did?” And the old man pointed to Kidogo.

Pandion was put out by this and tried to find words to answer him.

“I just made an elephant,” put in Kidogo. “But you, who are a trainer of elephants, know that one elephant does not resemble another. Only a man who does not know them thinks that all elephants are alike.”

“You speak the truth,” the chief agreed. “I see immediately the soul of any elephant and I can forecast his behaviour.”

“That’s just it,” Kidogo took him up. “If I want to make a particular elephant, I must see him before my eyes. My friend’s the same; he’s not going to make just a man, he’s going to make you, and he must look at you while he’s working.”

“I understand,” said the old man. “Let your friend come to me during the afternoon siesta and I’ll sit before him.”

The chief went away and the potters placed the clay elephant on a bench where ever-increasing numbers of villagers came to admire it.

“Well, Pandion,” said Kidogo to his friend, “our fate is in your hands. If the chief is pleased with your statue, the Elephant People will help us…”

The young Hellene nodded his head and the two friends returned to their house, with a crowd of children close on their heels.

“Can you talk to me?” asked the chief, taking his place on a high and uncomfortable seat, while Pandion was hurriedly arranging the clay the potters had brought on a block of wood. “Will it interrupt your work?”

“I can, but I don’t know your language very well,” answered Pandion. “I shall not understand everything you say and must answer with few words.”

“Then call your friend, the man from the seaboard forests; let him stay here with you. I’ll soon get tired of sitting silent like an inarticulate monkey!”

Kidogo came and sat with his legs tucked up under him beside the chief’s chair, between Pandion and the old man. With the Negro’s help the chief and Pandion were able to converse quite freely. The chief asked Pandion about his country and his penetrating glance gave Pandion a feeling of confidence in the elephant trainer, a wise man who had seen much.

Pandion told the chief about his life in his own country, about Thessa, about his voyage to Crete, his slavery in Tha-Quem and his intention of returning home. As he spoke his fingers moulded the clay, and Kidogo translated what he said. The sculptor worked with unusual inspiration and persistence. The statue of the chief seemed to him to be a finger-post pointing to the haven of his native land. Memories of the past gave rise to impatience, and the enforced stay with the Elephant People already began to pall.

The old man sighed and began to fidget, apparently he was tired.

“Say something in your own language,” the chief suddenly asked.

“To ellnuiksou ellevthepoy!” exclaimed Pandion.

These were the words that his grandfather loved to repeat when he told the boy stories of famous Greek-heroes; they sounded strange when uttered in the heart of Africa.

“What did you say?” asked the chief.

Pandion explained that those words expressed the dream of all the people of his country — “Whatever is Hellenic is free!”

These words apparently gave the chief food for thought.. Kidogo mentioned discreetly to Pandion that the chief was tired and that what he had done would be enough for that day.

“Yes, that’s enough!” exclaimed the elephant trainer, raising his head. “Come tomorrow. How many days more will it take?”

“Three days,” said Pandion confidently, despite the signs of warning that Kidogo made to him.

“Three days, that’s not too much, I can bear that,” agreed the old man and rose from his seat.

Pandion and Kidogo covered the clay with a damp cloth and put it into a storeroom close to the chief’s house.

On the second day the two friends told the chief about Tha-Quem, its might and its colossal buildings. The old chief frowned, he was hurt by the stories of the people of Aigyptos, but still he listened with interest. When Pandion told him of the narrow, monotonous world of the Egyptians, the chief brightened up.

“Now it’s time you learned something about my people,” he said importantly. “You’ll take news of them to your own distant countries.”

The chief told the friends how they made use of the strength of the elephants to make long journeys throughout the country. The only danger that threatened them was the possibility of meeting herds of wild elephants; a tame elephant might, at any moment, decide to return to its wild brethren. But there were certain ways of preventing even that.

The chief told them that farther to the east and the south of the place where the former slaves lived as the guests of an hospitable people, beyond the swamps and mountains, there were big freshwater seas. The seas were so big that they could only be crossed on special boats and that the crossing took several days. These freshwater seas* formed a long chain, one after the other, running in a southerly direction, and were surrounded by mountains that belched smoke, flames and rivers of fire. (The freshwater seas — the great lakes of East Africa). Beyond these seas, however, there was dry land, high plateaux with numerous wild animals, while the real edge of the earth, the shore of the endless sea, lay still farther to the east, beyond a fringe of swamps.

On the plateaux stood two gigantic, blindingly white mountains, not very far from each caber, the beauty of which cannot be conceived by a man who has not seen them for himself. (Mounts Kenya and Kilimanjaro, two of the highest peaks on the African continent.)

These mountains, he said, were surrounded by dense jungles inhabited by savage peoples and mysterious animals of an ancient type that were very rare and quite impossible to describe. The Elephant People had seen canyons filled with the bones of huge animals mixed with the bones of human beings and fragments of their stone weapons. In the thickets that surround the northernmost white mountain there were wild boars as big as a rhinoceros, and once they had seen an animal there as big as an elephant and much heavier, with two horns placed side by side at the end of its jowl.

People lived in floating villages ( Villages built on huge rafts are still to be seen on the great East African lakes) on the freshwater seas where they could not be reached by their enemies; these were savage people who gave no quarter to anybody.

Pandion asked the chief how far to the south the land of Africa ran and whether it was true that there the sun was again lower.

The old man livened up at this question. It turned out that he had commanded a big expedition to the south when he had been less than forty years old. They went on twenty selected elephants for gold and for the precious grass of the southern plains that gives strength to the aged and health to the sick.

Beyond the great river (The Zambezi with the Victoria Falls.) that flows from west to east, where there are giant waterfalls and a permanent rainbow plays in the high columns of spray, there are endless blue grass plains. Along the fringes of these grassy plains, along the seacoast, in the west and in the east, there are mighty trees whose leaves seem to be made from polished metal and glitter in the sun like a million mirrors.

The grass and leaves in the south, said the old man, are not green but grey, pale blue and dove-coloured, which makes the country look strange and cold. It is true, too, that the farther you go to the south the colder becomes the climate. The period of the rains, he added, which coincides with our dry season, is unbearably cold for northern people.

The old man told Pandion about an extraordinary silver tree that is found in the mountain gorges far to the south. The tree grows to a height of thirty cubits, has thin bark with transverse wrinkles, many branches covered with leaves shine like silver and are as soft as down; the tree, he said, is possessed of a magic beauty that charms all who see it.

Barren stony mountains, he continued, rose up like gigantic purple towers with vertical walls, at the foot of which crouched twisted trees, covered with large bunches of bright red flowers.

On the barren parts of the plain and the stony slopes of the hills ugly, twisted bushes and low trees grew.

(Various kinds of aloe-trees from the Liliaceae family, also dragon-trees.)

Their fleshy leaves, filled with poisonous sap, were attached like outspread fingers to the ends of twin branches that shot straight up into the air. Other trees had the same sort of leaves, reddish in colour, growing in the form of a cap curving downwards at the end of a curved stem, four cubits high, on which there were no branches.

Near the rivers and on the fringe of the forests, there were the ruins of ancient buildings made of huge dressed stones, apparently the work of a powerful and highly skilled people. “Today,” said the old chief, “there is nobody living in the vicinity of these ruins except the dangerous wild dogs that howl there in the moonlight. Nomad herdsmen and poor hunters wander the plains. Still farther to the south there are people with light grey skins, who have huge herds of cattle, but the expedition of the Elephant People did not go so far.” (Tribes of the Hottentot type were much more widespread in times of antiquity than at present. There is some reason to believe them related to the ancient Egyptians.)

Pandion and Kidogo listened avidly to the old chief’s stories. His tale of the blue plains seemed like fancy interwoven with fact, but still the old man’s voice sounded convincing; he frequently stared into the distance, his eyes flashing with excitement, and it seemed to Pandion that pictures of the past, retained in his memory, were passing before the old man’s eyes.

Suddenly the chief broke off.

“You’ve stopped working,” he said, “and I’ll have to sit before you for many more days!”

Pandion hurried although it did not seem as though haste were essential; he felt that the old chief’s bust was more successful than anything he had ever done before. He had acquired his skill gradually and imperceptibly, despite all he had gone through; his tremendous experience and his observations in Aigyptos stood him in good stead.

On the third day Pandion compared his bust with the face of the chief several times.

“It’s ready,” he said with a profound sigh.

“Have you finished?” asked the chief and, seeing that Pandion nodded in confirmation, got up and went over to his portrait.

Kidogo looked in admiration at Pandion’s work, scarcely able to restrain words of approval.

The clay, despite its uniform colour, had taken on all typical features of that stern, wise and imperious face, with its firm, protruding jaws, its wide, sloping forehead, heavy lips and thick nose with distended nostrils.

The old man turned to the house and called out softly.

His call was answered by one of his wives, a young woman, with a large number of tiny plaits cut short like a fringe on her forehead. She gave the chief a mirror of polished silver, obviously northern work, that had got into the centre of Africa by some unknown ways.

The chief held the mirror at arm’s length against the cheek of the statue and began to compare his reflection with Pandion’s work.

Pandion and Kidogo awaited the old man’s judgement. The chief was silent for a long time, and then he put down the mirror and said:

“Great is the power of man’s ability… You, stranger, possess this ability more than anybody in our country. You have made me better than I am — that means that you think well of me. I’ll pay you in your own coin. What reward do you want?”

Kidogo gave Pandion a push, but the young Hellene answered the chief with words that seemed to come from his very heart.

“Everything I own you see before you. I have nothing but the spear that was given to me…” Pandion stammered and continued jerkily: “I need nothing here in a strange land. I have my own country; it is far away but still it is my greatest treasure. Help me get back home.”

The elephant trainer placed his hand on the Hellene’s shoulder with a paternal gesture.

“I want to talk with you again, come tomorrow with your friend. Now we’ll finish this off. I’ll order our potters to dry the clay so that it will never crack. I want to keep this picture of myself. They’ll take out the surplus clay from inside and will cover it with a special pitch — they know how. The only thing I don’t like is the blind eyes. Can you put some stones in them that I’ll give you?”

Pandion agreed to this. The old man called to his wife again; this time she brought out a casket covered with a Leopard skin.

The chief took a fairly big bag out of the box and shook out on to his hand a heap of big, faceted stones, oval in shape arid as transparent as water. The unusually brilliant glitter of the stones attracted Pandion’s attention; each stone seemed to concentrate in itself the full power of the sunlight, at the same time remaining cold, transparent and pure. (Diamonds.)

“I’ve always wanted to have such eyes,” said the chief, “so that they would concentrate the light of life but themselves would never change. Select the best of them and put them into the bust.”

The young sculptor obeyed him. The portrait of the chief acquired an aspect that defies description. The iridescent stones gleamed in place of eyes in the wet, grey clay; their gleam filled the face with magic life. The contrast had at first seemed unnatural to Pandion but later it filled him with amazement. The more he looked the greater the harmony he found in the combination of transparent eyes and the dark clay of the sculptured face.

The elephant trainer was very pleased.

“Take these stones as a souvenir, stranger craftsman!” exclaimed the chief and poured a number of them into Pandion’s hand. Some of them were bigger than a plum-stone in size. “These stones come from the southern plains and are found in the rivers there. There’s nothing in the world that’s harder or purer than these stones. When you’re back in your distant land, you can show people the marvels of the south acquired by the Elephant People.”

Pandion thanked the old man and went away, hiding the gift in the bag that held Yakhmos’ stone.

“Don’t forget, come tomorrow!” the chief called after him.

Back in their hut the former slaves talked excitedly about what would happen as a result of the success that attended Pandion’s work. Their hopes in the early continuance of their journey were strengthened. It seemed that there was every reason to expect the Elephant People would let them go and show them the true road.

At the appointed hour Pandion and Kidogo appeared at the house of the chief. The old man beckoned to them to come up. They sat at the feet of the elephant trainer, hiding their excitement with difficulty.

For some time the chief sat in silence and when he spoke he addressed them both at once.

“I’ve taken counsel with the other chiefs and they agree with me. Half a moon from now, after the grand hunt, we shall be sending a big expedition to the west for Coaling nuts and for gold. Six elephants will go through the forest and farther to the upper reaches of a big river, seven days march from here. Give me that stick,” said the chief to Pandion.

The old man drew the outlines of a big gulf where the sea cut deep into dry land, and Kidogo gave a faint cry. The chief drew a wavy line to indicate a river with two branches at its head and placed a cross in a junction of the waterways.

“The elephants will go this far, you’ll follow them and will pass easily through the forest. From there you’ll have to go alone, but it will take you five days more to reach the sea…”

“O father and — prince!” exclaimed the excited Kidogo, “you are our saviour. That river flows within the bounds of my country, and I know the plateau where the gold is found…” The Negro jumped up in ecstasy.

“I know,” continued the old chief, with a somewhat supercilious smile, “I know your people and your country and was at one time acquainted with one of your strongest chiefs, Yorumefu.”

“Yorumefu!” exclaimed Kidogo. “He’s my mother’s brother!”

“Good,” said the chief, interrupting Kidogo. “You will give him my greetings. Have you understood everything I’ve told you?” Without waiting for an answer he finished by saying, “Now I want to speak to your friend.” The chief turned to Pandion. “I feel that you’ll become a great man in your own country if you succeed in returning home. Ask me whatever you will and I will answer you.” “For a long time I’ve been thinking of asking you how you subdue the elephants,” said Pandion. “Or perhaps it’s a secret,” he added doubtfully.

“The training of elephants is a secret to fools alone,” smiled the old chief, “Any man of wisdom can easily guess how it’s done… Apart from the secret, however, it implies hard and dangerous work and unlimited patience. Brains aren’t sufficient, there’s real hard work as well. There are but few tribes in this land that possess the three qualities my people have — intellect, industry and unbounded courage. You must understand, stranger, that a full-grown elephant cannot be trained. We catch them when they’re still quite young. A young elephant is trained for ten years. Ten years of persistent labour are required for the elephant to begin to understand the commands given him by man and to do the necessary work.”

“Ten years!” exclaimed the astounded Pandion.

“Yes, not a moment less, that is, if you have correctly judged the character of the elephant. And if you make a mistake you will not manage the task even in fifteen years. There are stubborn animals and stupid ones amongst the elephants. And then, you must not forget that the capture of young elephants is a matter of great danger. We have to capture them with our own hands, without the aid of trained elephants because they may go back to join the herd. The trained elephants help us when the herd has been driven off and the youngsters are made fast. Several of our bravest men are always killed during an elephant hunt.” The old chief’s voice took on a note of sorrow. “Tell me, have you seen the exercises that our young warriors perform? You have. ‘Good. These exercises are also necessary training in the art of elephant hunting.”

On several occasions Pandion had seen the unusual games played by the Elephant People. The warriors planted two high posts on a level open space and fixed a bamboo cross-piece between them at a height of about five cubits from the ground.

They would then take a long run, make a peculiar sort of sideways leap into the air and fly over the cross-bar. The jumper’s body would double up, almost in two, and fly into the air with the right side forward in the direction of the jump. Pandion had never before seen anybody jump so high. Some of the best jumpers could leap to a height of almost six cubits. Pandion was filled with astonishment at the great skill of the Elephant People but could not understand what use they could put this ability to. The words of the stern old chief did something to explain the significance of these exercises.

After a short pause the chief continued in a louder’ voice:

“Now you see how difficult a matter it is. There are other tribes that hunt elephants. They kill them with heavy spears hurled down from trees, drive them into pits or creep up to them when they are asleep in the forest. I’ll do this for you.” The old chief slapped himself on the knee. “I’ll order the elephant hunters to take you with them on; the next hunt. It will be soon, before our expedition leaves for the western forests. Do you want to witness the glory and the torment of my people?”

“I do and I thank you, chief. And may my companions go with me?”

“All of you would be too many. Invite one or two to go with you, more would hamper our hunters.”

“Then let my two friends go with me — he can go,” Pandion indicated Kidogo, “and one other…”

“You mean the morose-looking man with the thick beard?” asked the chief, meaning Cavius; the young Hellene affirmed the correctness of his supposition.

“I also want to have a talk with him, tell him to come to me,” said the old man. “I suppose you’re in a hurry to tell your companions that we are willing to help them. When we appoint the day of the hunt you will be informed.” The old chief dismissed the two friends with a gesture.

To the menacing rumble of tom-toms the tribesmen assembled for the hunt. Some of them were mounted on elephants, loaded with ropes, food and water, the remainder went on foot. Pandion, Kidogo and Cavius, armed with their heavy spears, joined the latter party. Two hundred hunters crossed the river and set out across the plains in a northerly direction, making for a range of bare stony hills faintly visible in the blue haze above the horizon. The hunters moved so fast that even such experienced walkers as our three friends had difficulty in keeping pace with them.

The ground that lay to the south and east of the range of hills was perfectly flat, with huge expanses of level, burnt-up grassland. The wind raised clouds of dust over the yellow plain, obscuring the dull greenery of the trees and bushes. The nearer cliffs were clearly visible, but the rocks beyond them were almost hidden by a greyish-blue mist. Steep rounded peaks jutted up like the skulls of gigantic, phantom elephants; while the lower rocks were hunched up like the backs of huge crocodiles.

The Elephant People spent the night under the southern end of the chain of rocks and at dawn moved off along their eastern slope. Over the plain ahead of them hung a reddish mirage in which quivered the diffused silhouettes of trees. An extensive swamp spread away to the north. A young man left the hunting party and ordered the three strangers to follow him up the rocky ridge.

Cavius, Pandion and Kidogo climbed up to a ledge two hundred cubits higher than the surrounding plain. Over their heads rose a sheer stone precipice that breathed intense heat, its bright yellow surface scored by the zigzags of numerous cracks. The hunter led the friends to another ledge that overlooked the swamp, ordered them to take cover behind tufts of coarse grass and stones, made a sign implying silence and left them.

For a long time the three friends lay still under the blazing sun, not daring to say a word. Not a sound came from the valley that spread out below them.

Suddenly from the left faint squelchy noises came floating towards them, growing louder as they drew nearer. From behind his stone Pandion looked out cautiously through the scarcely moving grass and held his breath.

The dark grey cloud of thousands of elephants covered the swamp. The huge animals were crossing it diagonally from the side of the rocks and, passing over the boundary between swamp and grassland, were making for the south-east.

The bodies of the animals stood cut clearly against the yellowish-grey grass. They were moving in herds with anything from a hundred to five hundred head in each, herd following herd with a short interval between them. Each herd formed a solid mass of animals pressed close against each other; viewed from above, it looked like the movement of a grey island whose surface, undulating with hundreds of backs, was scarred by the white streaks of the tusks.

In the swampy places the herd stretched out in a thin line. Some of the elephants left the herd, ran to one side and stood there spreading their great ears and placing their hind-legs apart in a funny way; they soon, however, rejoined the general stream.

Some of them, mostly the huge bulls, moved unhurriedly, their heads and ears lowered; others advanced gravely, holding the forepart of the body high and crisscrossing their hind-legs; a third kind waddled along sideways, their thin tails jutting up above them. Tusks of the most varied shapes and sizes — some short, others so long that they almost reached the ground, some curved upwards and others quite straight — flashed white against the grey background.

Kidogo brought his lips close to Pandion’s ear. “The elephants are moving towards the swamps and rivers,” he said. “The grasslands are burnt up.” “Where are the hunters?” Pandion asked. “They are waiting in hiding for a herd that contains a lot of young elephants; such herds are always at the end. You can see there are only full-grown elephants here.”

“Why is it some elephants have long tusks and others short?”

“The short ones are broken.”

“Fighting amongst themselves?”

“I have bean told that elephants rarely fight amongst themselves. They mostly break their tusks when they pull up trees. They use their tusks to overturn trees so that they can eat the fruits, leaves and thin twigs. The forest elephants have much stronger tusks than the plains elephants; that’s why hard ivory goes to the markets from the forests and soft ivory from the plains.”

“Are these forest or plains elephants?”

“They’re plains elephants. Look for yourself.” Kidogo pointed to an old elephant that was hanging back not far from the rocks where the friends were hiding.

The grey giant, knee-high in the grass, turned directly towards the watching friends. Its ears were spread out widely on either side, their skin stretched taut like sails. The elephant lowered its head. This movement brought the animal’s sloping forehead forward, deep pits appeared between the eyes and the crown of the head, and the whole head took on the appearance of a heavy pillar that tapered towards the bottom, unnoticeably changing to the vertically pendant trunk. Deep transverse folds, like dark rings, marked the trunk at regular intervals. At the base of the trunk two tubes jutted out at a sharp angle on either side, from which very short and thick tusks spread outwards.

“I can’t understand how you knew that it was a plains elephant,” whispered Pandion after carefully examining the calm old giant.

“Do you see his tusks? They’re not broken, they’re worn away. They don’t grow on an old elephant like they do on one in the prime of his life, and he has worn them away because they are soft. You never see such tusks on a forest elephant, they are mostly long and thin.”

The friends conversed softly. Time passed and the leading elephants disappeared beyond the horizon, the entire herd turning into a dark strip.

From the left came still another herd. At its head marched four bull elephants of enormous size, almost eight cubits high. They waved their heads as they walked, their long, slightly curved tusks rising and falling and at times touching the grass with their sharp points.

There were many cows in the herd; these could be distinguished by their sunken backs and the huge folds of skin on their flanks. Baby elephants, pressing close to the hind-legs of the cows, toddled along uncertainly; while to one side, keeping to themselves, was the merry throng of the elephant youth. Their tiny tusks and ears, their small long heads, their big stomachs and the equal length of their fore- and hind-legs distinguished them from the grown-ups.

The friends realized that the decisive moment of the hunt had come. It was difficult for the baby elephants to march through the swamp, and the herd moved farther to the right on to a strip of hard ground between the bushes and occasional trees.

“Why is it that such a heavy animal as the elephant doesn’t get stuck in the swamps?” asked Pandion.

“They have special feet,” began Kidogo, “they…”

A thunderous noise, made by the hunters banging on sheets of metal and tom-toms, accompanied by their frenzied howls, spread so suddenly across the plain that the friends gasped in amazement.

The elephant herd, panic-stricken, rushed for the swamp only to find there another line of men with tomtoms and trumpets that rose out of the grass. The leading elephants held back, checking the pressure from those behind. The piercing trumpeting of the frightened elephants, the thunder of metal sheets, the crackle of breaking branches — through all that hellish noise the thin, plaintive whine of the calves could occasionally be heard. The animals dashed here and there, at first bunching together, then again spreading out. The figures of the men could be seen in the dust clouds in the midst of that chaos of milling giants. The hunters did not approach the herd but ran from place to place, reformed their ranks and again beat their metal sheets. Gradually the friends began to understand what the hunters were doing; they were cutting the young elephants off from the adults and forcing them to the right into the open mouth of a dry watercourse that cut into the stone cliff and was protected by a strip of forest. The grey giants ran after the hunters, trying to trample on enemies that had appeared from they knew not where. The men, however, leaping high into the air, hid in the bushes and behind the trees. While the infuriated animals were waving their trunks and seeking their hidden enemies, new rows of hunters, screaming wildly and rattling their metal sheets, appeared from the other side. The elephants turned on the newcomers who repeated the same manoeuvre in an effort to cut off the young elephants.

The herd moved farther and farther into the grasslands, grey bodies disappeared behind the trees and only the deafening noise and the clouds of dust that rose high into the air indicated the hunting ground.

The astounded friends, amazed at the bravery and skill of the hunters in avoiding the maddened monsters who charged down on them, and continuing their dangerous business no matter what happened, gazed in silence at the empty land with its crushed bushes and broken trees. Kidogo’s face wore a worried frown as he listened to what was going on, and he said softly:

“Something’s wrong. The hunt isn’t going the way it should!”

“How do you know that?” asked the astonished Cavius.

“They brought us here because they expected the herd to move to the east. The herd has moved off to the right, I suppose that must be bad.”

“Let’s go over there, back along the ledge, the way we came,” suggested Pandion.

Kidogo pondered over the suggestion for a moment and then agreed. In the bustle of the hunt their coming could not make any difference.

Bending low and keeping concealed behind stones and grass, the three friends moved a distance of a thousand cubits back in the direction from which they had come until they were again opposite the open plain.

They could see the gully in the rocks where the hunters had driven more than a dozen young elephants. The hunters were darting about amongst the trees, skilfully dropping nooses over the animals and fastening them to the tree-trunks.

A line of warriors armed with broad spears closed the entrance to the gully. The noise and shouting was now at its height some two thousand cubits away; apparently the greater part of the herd was over there.

Suddenly the loud trumpeting of elephants came from in front and from the left. Kidogo shuddered. “The elephants are attacking,” he whispered. A man let out a long moan, the angry cries of another sounded like words of command.

On the far side of the open space in front of them, where two wide-spreading trees cast a huge patch of shadow, the friends could see some movement. A moment later a huge elephant appeared from there with his ears outspread and his trunk stretched out in front of him like a log. He was followed by two other similar giants. Pandion recognized in them the monsters who had led the herd. The fourth, accompanied by several other elephants, was a little distance behind. From the bushes on the right hunters ran out to cut off the elephants. They ran between them and as they ran they threw spears at the elephant that had last appeared. The latter trumpeted furiously and turned on the men who were running as fast as their legs could carry them towards the swamp. The other elephants followed him. The three leaders paid no attention to the hunters’ scheme to separate them from their fellows, and continued their race towards the valley between the rocks, most probably attracted by the cries of the young.

“That’s bad, that’s bad, the leaders have turned in the other direction,” whispered Kidogo excitedly, squeezing Pandion’s arm till it hurt.

“Look… Look, there’s bravery for you,” shouted Cavius, forgetting himself.

The hunters that barred the entrance to the valley stood firm and made no attempt to conceal themselves from the infuriated monsters. As they moved forward, strung out in a long chain, the low, burned-out grass offered them no cover.

The leading elephant rushed straight at the middle of the line of hunters. Two men stood stock-still while their neighbours on either side sprang forward towards the approaching giant. The elephant slackened his pace, raised his trunk high into the air, trumpeted maliciously and set out to trample the hunters underfoot. No more than ten cubits separated the brave men from the elephant when they leapt aside like lightning. At that same moment two men rose out of the grass beside each of the elephant’s hind-legs; two of them thrust their broad spears into the animal’s belly and the other two leaned back to strike at the elephant’s legs.

A high-pitched, whistling note escaped the leader’s raised trunk. Lowering it the elephant turned his head towards the nearest man on the right. The hunter could not escape him or was too slow in his movements.

Blood spurted from his body and the three friends could see from their vantage point the bare bones of his side and shoulder. The wounded man fell to the ground without a sound, but the elephant also collapsed heavily on to its hind-quarters and began slowly crawling away sideways. The hunters that had stopped the leading elephant then joined their comrades who were engaging the other two. These were either cleverer or had previous experience of man; they dashed from side to side, giving the hunters no opportunity to creep up behind them, and crushed three men underfoot.

The clouds of dust that hung over the scene of the hunt turned red in the rays of the setting sun. The elephants looked like huge black towers at the base of which fearless men were darting to and fro. They leaped into the air to escape the long tusks, met the animals’ trunks with spears thrust shalt downwards into the ground and with loud shouts ran behind the elephants, attracting attention away from other hunters who would otherwise have been trampled to death.

The frenzied animals kept up their incessant trumpeting. When they turned their heads towards the rocks on which the three friends were sitting, they seemed extraordinarily tall, their widespread ears waved high above the hunters. Seen from the side the elephants, their heads lowered, looked smaller, their tusks almost raked the ground, ready to gore their enemies. Pandion, Cavius and Kidogo realized that they were looking — at only part of the battle; it was going on far away beyond the trees where the herd was concentrated, and away to the left in the swamp where the hunters had drawn off the fourth leader and the elephants that had come with him. The three friends had no idea what was going on there, but they had no time to think about it, for the bloody struggle being enacted before their eyes demanded all their attention.

From behind the trees came the rumble of approaching tom-toms as several dozen hunters came to the aid of their comrades. The leaders of the elephant herd halted in indecision, the men shouted and waved their spears, and the elephants retreated. They ran to the third, wounded leader, stood one on either side of him, pushed their tusks under his heavy body and lifted him on to his feet. Squeezing him between their huge bodies, they dragged him behind the trees, dropped him, picked him up again and made off. Several of the hunters started out to follow up the elephants, but they were stopped by the chief hunter.

“He won’t get away… they’ll soon leave him… you’ll infuriate them again…” Kidogo translated his words.

The noise away to the right died down, apparently the battle had been won. A group of hunters that appeared from the north, from the direction of the swamp, were carrying two inert bodies. Nobody paid any attention to the three friends who made their way cautiously down to the plain to survey the field of battle. They went towards the place where the main herd was concentrated. As they pressed their way through the bushes, Kidogo suddenly jumped back in fright — a dying elephant, the tip of its trunk still quivering, lay on the crown of a tree that he must have broken down by falling against it. Farther on, where the trees were sparser, a second elephant lay in a grey heap on its belly, with bent legs and its back hunched up. As it scented the approach of men it raised its head; the deep folds of skin that lay around its dull, sunken eyes gave the animal an expression of the infinite weariness of old age. The giant lowered its head, leaning” on its tusks, and then with a dull thud fell on its side. The hunters were calling to each other all round. Kidogo waved his hand and turned back — another herd of elephants had appeared from the south. The friends hurried back to the rocks, but this time it was a false alarm — the trained elephants of the Elephant People were approaching.

The young elephants tied to the trees stuck up their tails and made frantic efforts to get at the men, trying to reach them with their trunks. The elephant drivers placed their trained animals one on either side of the captives. They squeezed them between their bodies and led them away to the village. As a precaution ropes were fixed to the neck and hind-legs of every young elephant; fifteen men in front and behind held the ropes. The tired faces of the hunters, haggard from the terrific strain of the hunt, were filled with gloom. Eleven motionless bodies had already been laid out on the wattle platforms on the backs of elephants, and hunters were still beating the bushes in search of another two missing men.

The elephants with the captives were led away, and the hunters sat or lay on the ground resting after the fray. The friends went up to the chief hunter and asked him whether there was anything they could do to help. The chief hunter looked at them ‘angrily and said brusquely:

“Help? What can you do to help, strangers? It’s been a hard hunt and we’ve lost many brave men. Wait where you were told and don’t get in our way!’’

The friends went back to the rocks and sat down apart from the hunters, afraid to quarrel with people on whom their entire future depended.

Cavius, Pandion and Kidogo lay down to wait until they were called, and talked softly amongst themselves. The sun was going down and long shadows from the battlemented rocks stretched out into the plain.

“Still I can’t understand why the huge elephants don’t kill all the people in battle,” said Cavius thoughtfully. “If the elephants were to fight better, they could crush all the hunters to dust…”

“You’re right,” agreed Kidogo. “It’s the good luck of man that the elephant is fainthearted.”

“How can that be?” asked the astonished Etruscan.

“It’s simply because the elephant isn’t used to fighting. He’s so big and strong that no other animal ever attacks him; he’s not threatened with danger since only man is bold enough to hunt him. This is why the grey giant is not a reliable fighter, his will is easily broken, and he can’t stand up to a long fight if he doesn’t crush his enemy immediately. The buffalo is a different case. If the buffalo possessed the size and intellect of the elephant, all those who hunt him would be killed.”

Cavius muttered something indefinite under his breath; he did not know whether to believe the Negro or not; but then he recalled the indecision which he himself had seen the elephants display at the most decisive moment of the battle and said no more.

“The spears the Elephant People use are quite different from ours; the blades are eight fingers wide,” put in Pandion. “What enormous strength must be needed to strike with such a spear.”

Kidogo suddenly stood up and listened. Not a sound came from the side where the hunters had been resting. The sky, golden in the setting sun, was rapidly darkening.

“They have gone away and forgotten us,” exclaimed the Negro and ran out from behind the rocks.

Not a soul was to be seen anywhere. In the distance scarcely audible voices were calling to one another; the hunters were on their way back to the village without the three friends.

“Let’s follow them immediately, the journey is a long one,” said Pandion hastily, but the Negro held his friend back.

“It’s too late, the sun will disappear soon and we’ll lose our way in the dark,” said Kidogo. “Better wait until the moon comes up, it won’t be long.”

Pandion and Cavius agreed and lay down to rest.