Back Aa

Memoirs of a White Elephant

Close

<h5>CHAPTER XV</h5> <h4>SCIENCE</h4> The education of Parvati had begun, to her great displeasure—and to mine. For long hours she had to listen to the Brahmans, instead of playing with me, or going to harangue the happy little vagabonds of the city. Music, dancing, poetry, writing—it was all terrible! and I could hear my beloved weeping—screaming—stamping, in the midst of her respectful but stern teachers. I stood at the door of the schoolroom, helpless, with drooping head, replying with groans to the furious outcries of the rebellious pupil. Sometimes she escaped, all in tears, and ran towards me, encircling my trunk with her little arms, and crying: "Take me away! Let us run to the forest, away from the wicked Brahmans!" But the head Brahman in his white robe would appear, and hiding a kindly smile under an outward appearance of severity, take the naughty girl away from me.... At last she obtained permission to learn her lessons in the basket hanging from my neck, while I walked slowly along under the trees of the park. I remember especially a Fable which gave us a great deal of trouble to learn, the birds and the butterflies so distracted our attention during those hours of Study! But we succeeded at last, and if I could only have spoken I could have prompted the little Princess many a time when she made mistakes in her recitations. It was a very pretty Fable and was intended to teach us that one cannot be too cautious in this life. And, as I still remember it, I will give myself the pleasure of writing it down from beginning to end, without the least fear of making any mistake. It was called: The Crane and the Crawfish In a beautiful forest there was a great Pool, inhabited by all kinds of fish; on its banks a Crane had her dwelling. This Crane was old, and could no longer catch the Fish to feed on them. Therefore, with a throat contracted by hunger, she stood on the edge of the Pool and wept; she moistened the ground with her tears, which glistened like innumerable pearls. Standing on one slender leg which looked like the stalk of a flower, and with her neck curved downwards, the sly Crane deceived the silly Fish, who took her for a Lotus. Now, a Crawfish, accompanied by many others of the Water-people, approached, and pitying the distress of the Crane, inquired respectfully: "Friend, why is it that you are not, as usual, seeking your dinner, and why do you utter these tearful sighs?" "My child," said the Crane, "what you have observed is true. I do, indeed, make my dinner ordinarily of fish, but behold! I have renounced all appetite for food, and intend to let myself die of starvation; so that no matter how near they come to me I shall never eat fish again!" When the Crawfish heard this she said: "Friend, what is the reason for this renunciation of all appetite?" "My child," said the Crane, "I was born and brought up on the borders of this Pool. I have learned that a terrible calamity threatens it; an absence of rain for twelve years is about to occur." "How did you learn this?" asked the Crawfish. "An eminent Astrologer informed me," replied the Crane. "Alas! this Pool is shallow, it holds but little water, and will soon be empty; and when it is dry all those with whom I grew up and played, will perish for lack of water. I have not the courage to witness such a catastrophe. That is why I am fasting thus, until death takes place; and I weep to think that not one of you will escape!" When the Crawfish heard this she repeated to the other inhabitants the words of the Crane; and all the Fishes, the Tortoises, and other Water-people felt their hearts quake with fear and anguish. They all gathered around the Crane and cried: "Friend, is there no way of saving our lives?" "There is," said the Crane, "not far from here, a fine Lake full of deep water, and embellished with quantities of lotus. Even if Pardjania, the God of rain, should refuse to permit showers to fall for twenty years, that Lake would not become exhausted. If, therefore, any of you care to mount up on my back, I will carry you to that Lake." Now the Fishes had confidence in these words, and assembled from all sides, calling out: "Take me!... Take me!... Me first! Me first!"... The wicked Crane made them climb one after another onto her back, then she flew towards a great Rock situated a short distance off, and threw them all down on it—and devoured them at her ease. "Friend," said the Crawfish, "it was with me that you had your first friendly conversation—why do you leave me behind, and take the others? Will you not save my life along with the rest?" When the wicked Crane heard this, she thought to herself, "I am tired of eating fish, so to-day I will take this crawfish for a change!" So she allowed the Crawfish to mount on her back, and began the journey to the Rock of sacrifice. The Crawfish saw from a distance a great pile of bones on the Rock. She recognized them as the remains of the Fishes, and asked the Crane: "Friend, how much further is this Lake? Are you not fatigued by my weight?" "Crawfish," replied the Crane, "what makes you think that there is another Lake? I invented it, in order to preserve my life. Now then, call upon your tutelar Divinity—for I am going to throw you down on the Rock, and eat you!" But no sooner had she finished speaking than her neck, which was as white and as tender as a lotus stem, was seized and pinched by the claws of the Crawfish—and her life was ended. The Crawfish then bit off the neck of the Crane, and quietly returned to the Pool. "Oh, Crawfish! Why have you come back?" asked all the Water-people on seeing her. "Has anything happened? And where is the Crane? Why has not she returned? We are disappointed at not seeing her!" When they had spoken thus the Crawfish laughed, and said: "Fools that you are! The deceitful Crane has betrayed all the Fish, and has thrown them all onto a Rock not far from here, and eaten them. Fate decreed that my life was to be spared, and I discovered her treachery, and cut her throat. You need have no further anxiety; we Water-people will now be able to live happily hereafter...." Now, I think that was a very nice Fable. <hr class="chap" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

1 of 2

2 of 2