The Memoirs of a White Elephant

CHAPTER XVIII

Chapter 18763 wordsPublic domain

RETRIBUTION

The sun had set; Parvati was returning slowly to the shore and preparing to resume her silken robe, when she uttered a piercing shriek, and covered her face with her hands--trembling in every limb. I followed the direction of her glance, and a shudder seized me also, when I perceived, coiled in the tall grass, a serpent of the most venomous species, which had fixed its gaze on Parvati, prepared to spring as soon as she should place foot upon the bank.

Oh! how was I now punished for my wrong-doing! The pain which pierced my heart at seeing Parvati in danger led me to realize how Saphire-of-Heaven and Alemguir must have suffered at not seeing their beloved daughter return at the accustomed hour.

Had I then sunk to the level of a selfish brute--a being without reflection--a mere elephant? having had the shameful idea of stealing the Princess away from her family and her Court.... Now she was perhaps lost forever--and I with her; for I was resolved not to survive her if she perished from the venom of this frightful reptile.

These distracting thoughts rushed with terrible rapidity through my head, and almost deprived me of my presence of mind. Fortunately, it returned to me. I uttered a sudden roar, and at the same time leaped towards the serpent, who, surprised and alarmed, quickly unwound its coils, and hid itself in the leaves.

It now turned towards me--spitting and hissing--and this was what I desired, to distract its attention from the Princess. She now left the water, and climbed once more onto the bank; she was safe. But, clasping her hands, she called to me, imploring me to be careful of the bite of the fearful creature, and urging me to escape with her rather than to risk a battle.

I could not answer and tell her that my thick leathery skin had nothing to fear from the bite of the serpent, except around the eyes or lips, and I was far too angry at the fright it had caused me to refrain from taking summary vengeance.

The enemy did not move; it fixed the shining gaze of its lidless eyes upon me, and darted its forked tongue in and out, like a black flame; then it coiled again, in readiness to spring.

The upper portion of its body was now half hidden under the leaves, the middle was wound around a tree, but the creature was so long that a part still trailed on the ground. I put my foot on that portion, and bore down upon it with all my weight.

Then the snake quickly stretched itself to its full length, whipping the leaves and the branches of the tree with furious hissings. It was struggling to escape, and not succeeding, it came at me again with such a lightning-like spring that I was unable to avoid it. It twined itself around my legs, and around my neck, biting furiously with wide-opened jaws, but only breaking its fangs on my tough hide. The danger for me was of an altogether different kind. With gigantic strength it tightened more and more its clasp about my limbs, and what was more serious, twisted itself around my throat in a way that threatened to stop my breath.

It was impossible to reach it with my tusks--it was too close--and I was in a truly pitiable situation.

What, alas! would become of Parvati, left alone in the wood, if I should be strangled by this monster?

And closer, and still closer, the living rope tightened about me.... I could no longer move in spite of my efforts, and the blood roared in my ears under the increasing and suffocating pressure.... I threw myself desperately on the ground, rolling madly over and over, seeking to crush my enemy beneath my weight. I rubbed and ground it on the rough earth and the thorny bushes. The battle was long. But at last I felt the cold slimy coils soften, relax, and finally let go their grasp.

I rose, panting.

The serpent lay full length on the ground, still squirming a little, and looking like a river of blood and ink.

I fell to work, and stamped on it, and tore it to ribbons with my tusks--till it was completely destroyed.

When my rage was thoroughly appeased I turned, proud and pleased, to seek Parvati. Ah! how bitterly did I now repent of the crime I had committed in carrying her off!...

My Princess lay on the ground, pale and motionless--and to all appearance dead.