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Memoirs of a White Elephant

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<h5>CHAPTER I</h5> <h4>THE STUDENT OF GOLCONDA</h4> First of all I must tell you how I learned to write. This knowledge came to me somewhat late in my long life, but it has to be mentioned at the outset, for although you men have taught my race to perform many laborious tasks, you have not been in the habit of sending us to school, and an elephant capable of reading and writing is a phenomenon so rare as to seem almost incredible. I say rare, for I have heard it stated that my case is not entirely unique. During my long association with mankind I have come to understand much of their speech. I am even acquainted with several languages; Siamese, Hindustani, and a little English. I might have been able to speak; I attempted to do so at times; but I only succeeded in producing such extraordinary sounds as set my teachers laughing, and terrified my companion elephants, if they chanced to hear me; for my utterances resembled neither their own language nor that of mankind! I was about sixty years old (which is the prime of youth with us), when chance enabled me to learn letters, and eventually to write the words which I was never able to pronounce. <hr class="tb" /> The enclosure reserved for me in the Palace of Golconda, where I was permitted to roam entirely at liberty, was bordered on one side by a wall of bricks enameled in blue and green. It was quite a high wall, but it reached only to my shoulder, so that I could, if inclined, look over the top very easily. I spent much of my time at this place, owing to some tall tamarind trees, which cast a fresh and delicious shade all around. I had plenty of leisure, indeed, I was actually idle, for I was rarely called upon except for processions. So, after my morning bath had been taken, my toilet made, and my breakfast finished, my guardians, or rather my servants, were at liberty to sleep, or to go about visiting and amusing themselves—while I stood motionless under the trees, going over in my mind the many experiences of my past life. Every day there arose from an adjoining courtyard merry shouts and laughter, which would be followed by a silence, and then by a monotonous chanting. It was a class of little boys who were reciting the Alphabet, for a school was being taught there. Under shady trees, on turf covered here and there with small carpets, a number of children with red caps romped and played, when the Master was not there. As soon as he appeared all was silence, and he seated himself upon a larger rug, under an old tree. On the trunk of the tree was fastened a white Tablet, on which he wrote with a red pencil. I looked and listened, at first without much interest, noticing chiefly the mischievous antics of the children, who made faces at me, and glanced over with all sorts of grimaces—exploding suddenly with laughter for which no cause was apparent.... Punishments rained! Tears succeeded laughter! And I, who felt myself somewhat the cause of the disturbance, no longer ventured to show myself. But my curiosity was awakened. The idea of trying to learn what was being taught to the small men became fixed in my mind. I could not speak—but who knows?—I might learn to write! Concealed in the foliage from the eyes of the frolicsome little urchins, I gave an extreme attention to the lessons—sometimes making such violent efforts to understand that I trembled from head to foot. All that was required was simply to pronounce the letters of the Alphabet, one after another, and trace them on the white Tablet. At night now, instead of sleeping, I exercised my memory; and when in spite of my endeavors I could not recall the form or the sound of a letter, I uttered such cries of despair that my guardians were aroused. One day there stood before the Tablet a boy who was quite large, but extremely stupid. He had stood for some minutes with his head hanging down, his finger in his mouth, shifting himself from one foot to the other in a sulky manner—He did not know! All at once an impulse seized me. I extended my trunk over the wall, and taking the pencil gently, with the tip of my trunk, from the hand of the little dunce (somewhat excited by my own audacity), I traced on the white Tablet a gigantic "E"!!!! The stupefaction was such that it could only be manifested by profound silence, and gaping mouths. Emboldened by success I seized the wet cloth with which the Tablet was cleaned, and effaced the "E" which I had drawn. Then, in smaller characters, and doing my very best, I wrote the entire Alphabet, from end to end. This time the Master fell on his face, crying out, "A Miracle" and the children ran away, terrified. As for me, I expressed my satisfaction by moving backward and forward my big ears. The Teacher now rose trembling, detached the Tablet (being careful not to obliterate any of the writing), and, after saluting me most humbly, went away. A few moments later I saw my Mahout advancing towards me, and, without mounting, he led me through the great avenues of the park to the Entrance of the Palace. Here ordinarily was seated my dear Mistress. But now she had left her couch, and, kneeling on a cushion, was examining the Tablet covered with letters which the Schoolmaster had brought her. Standing around her were visitors, also looking on—several Hindus and an Englishman. As soon as she saw me she ran to me, clapping her hands. "Is it true? Is it true?" cried she. "Iravata, did you really do it?" I replied by winking my eyes and flapping my ears. "Yes!—He says yes!" said my sweet Mistress, who always understood me. But the Englishman shook his head, with an air of incredulity. "In order to believe such a thing," said he, "I should have to see it with my own eyes—hearsay is not enough." I attempted to efface the writing. "No, no," said the Schoolmaster, removing it out of my reach. "I saw the Miracle, and I implore the Royal Soul which inhabits the body of this Elephant to allow me to retain the proofs!" Upon a sign from the Princess the Scribes were sent for. They came and unrolled before me a long scroll of white satin, and gave me a pencil dipped in gold ink. The Englishman, with a singular grimace, put a morsel of glass in front of one of his eyes, and became observant. Secure now of myself, not permitting myself to be embarrassed by the scrutiny of the company, I clasped the pencil firmly with the tip of my trunk, and slowly, and with deliberation, I wrote very neatly the Alphabet, from beginning to end. "Iravata!—my faithful friend!" said the Princess, "I knew that you were more than our equal!"... Then, with her lovely white arms she clasped my ugly trunk, and leaned her cheek against my rough skin. I felt her tears falling upon me, and trembling myself with emotion, I knelt down and wept, too. "Very curious!... Very curious!" murmured the Englishman, who seemed much excited, and continually let fall and replaced the bit of glass in the corner of his eye. "What have you to say, Milord? You, who are one of the most learned men in England?" inquired the Princess, drying my eyes with the corner of her gauze scarf. The philosopher recovered his composure. "Quintus Mucius, who was three times Consul, relates that he saw an elephant draw in Greek characters this sentence. "It is I who have written these words, and have dedicated the Celtic Spoils" And Elien mentions an elephant who was able to write entire phrases, and even talk. I was formerly unable to credit these statements. But it is evident that, such things being possible, we must bow to the authority of the Ancients, our predecessors, and apologize for having doubted their word." My Princess decided that the Schoolmaster should now be attached to my person, and entrusted with the responsibility of teaching me to write syllables, and words (should that prove possible). The good man performed his task with reverence, and with a patience worthy of a saint. For my part, I made such struggles to learn that I grew thin in a way to cause anxiety to those who loved me, and my skin at last floated about my bones, like a mantle that is too large. But when they spoke of interrupting my lessons I uttered such shrieks of despair that it was not to be thought of. I was compelled, however, to regulate my hours of study, and above all not to omit my meals, which had often happened in the fever of learning which had taken hold of me. At last I was rewarded for my diligence. I was able at length to write the beloved name of my Princess! It is true it was instantly blotted out by the tears with which I deluged the paper! From this moment it seemed as if veils had been removed from my understanding. I made rapid progress, and with the greatest ease. So much so, that my Professor was not considered to be sufficiently learned for his position, and a celebrated Brahman was called upon to complete my education. I learned that all Golconda thought of nothing but me. And it was expected that, when I should become proficient in writing, wonderful revelations would be made by me, concerning the successive migrations of the Royal Soul which at present inhabited my person. But what I have written has been simply the Story of my Life, portions of which my dear Mistress was unacquainted with. The work was at once translated from the Hindustani, in which I had written it, into all the languages of Asia and Europe, and sold by hundreds of thousands. This honour (which has excited much envy in the minds of authors whose works were not so successful), did not inspire me with vanity. My reward—my recompense—was Her joy, and Her pride: the rest of the world was of no account to me; for all that I had achieved was solely and exclusively for Her. <hr class="chap" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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