A Parisian Sultana, Vol. 2 (of 3)

CHAPTER IX.

Chapter 91,388 wordsPublic domain

It was about two o'clock in the afternoon when the explorers entered the forest, followed by their escort of Nubians and Dinkas, who had by that time turned up again. Several natives, foregoing all claim to any share in the defunct elephants, volunteered to act as guides to the white folk, hoping that the strangers would persevere both in their successful hunting and their generosity in waiving their right to the spoil. The forest extended for some ten leagues in a south-easterly direction, and the marshy nature of the ground, though at this particular time it was dry enough, had imparted considerable luxuriance to the vegetation. The acacia, mimosa, tallan, tamarind and sycamore trees attained a noticeable altitude, and the sterculia, whose trunk tapers off gradually towards its top, reached a height of a hundred feet. The intervals between these trees, for the most part very large, were choked by papyrus tufts growing out of small pools of water, remnants of the former marsh, by sturdy climbing plants, by impenetrable patches of high grasses, and by the calamus with its formidable spines.

The heat beneath this dense foliage was excessive, resembling that of a hot-house, but the Europeans, lost in admiration of their surroundings, forgot to complain. For a short time they followed the course of a species of rivulet, clear as a spring, covered with a delicate net-work of creepers, and bordered by clumps of the amomum, with its scarlet fruit and yellow and white flower. The sun's rays flickered on the foliage and flowers, and sparkled in the rivulet. Suddenly the scene changed, and they came upon a clearing, rendered as green as a field in Normandy by the water which disappeared beneath it, and the leafy shade surrounding it on all sides. The Europeans and their escort halted here to rest, whilst the negroes disappeared in the thickets in search of elephant tracks.

After the lapse of half-an-hour, the scouts returned in a state of great excitement. The majority of them, without paying any attention to the strangers, fled in all directions towards the largest and loftiest trees, up which they swarmed with remarkable agility. Others, more mindful of their duty, ran to their guests, and told them that a very numerous herd of elephants was making for the clearing. Some said that there were a score of animals, male and female; others put the number down at a hundred, and a few went as far as to say that there were a thousand at least. This habit of exaggeration amongst the Africans is very curious, and, without having the faintest notion of arithmetic, they are wonderfully expert in multiplication. Whilst making due allowance for their exaggeration, it was nevertheless certain that a tolerably numerous herd of elephants was approaching the spot selected for a halt.

"I propose," said Delange, "to leave the elephants to their own devices, and to take to our heels with these people."

"What!" exclaimed Miss Poles, indignantly. "We have the chance of looking upon a tableau possibly unique, and as soon as the curtain rises, we are to leave our seats!"

"My dear Miss Poles," said Périères, "allow me to remark that we have not visited Africa for the express purpose of hunting the elephant. We have a rather more noble end than that in view, and we have no right to waste our strength, or expose our lives, until that end has been attained."

"Nobody mentioned a word about hunting," replied the obstinate Englishwoman. "I labour under the impression that I am not quite a fool, and I certainly never dreamt of opposing an army of elephants. But we may, I imagine, remain here for a few moments without any risk, and have a look at our visitors. If they seem disposed to attack us, our horses will very soon carry us out of harm's way."

"It is all very well to say so," replied M. Périères, "but our horses could never gallop through this underwood; to walk through it would be as much as they could do just at present. The elephants, on the contrary, do not care one jot for thickets, trees, or thorns, and they would overtake us in a second, if they were to take it into their heads to pursue us."

"Your remarks are so far true, my dear Périères," ^aid M. de Morin, who up to this time had refrained from giving any opinion, "that I do not intend to remount, having far more confidence in my own legs than in those of my steed."

"You are determined to stay here, then?" asked M. Delange.

"Certainly, if Madame de Guéran does not order me to move away."

"I assure you," said the Baroness, "that I should very much like to issue such an order, but it appears to me that it would be too late. Our horses are no longer intent on cropping the grass of the clearing. Their heads are all turned towards one point, their ears are pricked, and they are trembling in every limb. Their instinct tells them that a powerful enemy is advancing against them. See! they are careering off in all directions."

And so it was. The horses left, according to the Arab custom, at liberty in the clearing, were galloping off.

"There is still time to beat a retreat," said M. Delange. "You know I am no coward, but in some cases courage is useless."

"Evidently so," added M. Périères.

Madame de Guéran raised her eyes to the last speaker, and in her look there was something akin to reproach, as if she were annoyed with M. Périères for siding with the Doctor and declining to face the danger.

She, doubtless, was in that frame of mind which renders women bold. She was, perhaps, feeling the false position she occupied towards these two men, both of whom adored her and were yearning to tell her so, but whose protestations she was bound to repress. She was asking herself whether the ordeal which she had imposed and they were undergoing was not beyond both their strength and hers. Possibly she went so far as to confess to herself that she was in imminent danger, with a gloomy future before her. Would it not be better for them, for her, and even for him whom she was anxious to rejoin, that the situation should be brought to a head without further delay, at that very moment, in the forest, on the spot where they now were? Why brave fresh dangers to which they would succumb sooner or later? Was it not better to die a sudden death in that lovely scene than to waste away by inches from sickness and fatigue? At all events she could die now with an easy conscience, without remorse of any sort; could she answer for it that she would not in the immediate future have some weakness wherewith to reproach herself, some fault to deplore?

But all these thoughts we are, in our analytic character, ascribing to her, and which had, no doubt, occurred to her at some time or other, could scarcely have crossed her mind at this juncture, for she had scarcely raised her eyes to M. Périères in silent reproach at his desire to retreat, when that retreat became an impossibility, and the current of her ideas was rudely diverted into another channel.

From the other side of the clearing, rather more than two hundred yards from where the Europeans were standing, a loud, rushing noise was heard. It resembled the hoarse murmur of a tempestuous sea, the roaring of the waves, as impelled onwards by wind and tide they break on the rocks and engulf themselves in some vast cave. A continuous wail seemed to escape from the forest; the foliage, the very trees appeared to groan; all nature trembled and quivered in the air; flocks of birds, roused from their leafy nooks, flew screaming upwards; a herd of buffaloes, hidden hitherto in the long grass, sprang up with distended nostrils, and, snorting in alarm, took to flight with an impetuous rush. At length the earth itself seemed to tremble under the enormous weight it had to bear, and fifty elephants, with heads up-reared above the brakes, laying low the tallest plants, were seen to emerge into the open.