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Memoirs of a White Elephant

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<h5>CHAPTER XVII</h5> <h4>THE ABDUCTION</h4> One day a most culpable idea came into my head. Parvati had for some time past shown herself extremely irritated by the constantly increasing demands of her position as Princess; by the Receptions, the Parades, the long dissertations of the Brahmans upon the present and the future Life, and the interminable Poems, recited in a monotonous voice by the court Poet in reference to the most insignificant events that occurred at the palace. "Oh!" said she, "to be free! to be only a simple mortal! To do only what one likes to do! without being obliged to wear a mask, and force oneself to smile, when one feels like weeping—or to be solemn, when one wants to laugh!"... To be free! I also thought of it during the long days when I was deprived of her companionship.... Well! It was easy enough! We had but to steal away to the depths of the forest, and never return! I refused to consider the wickedness of such a scheme. I repelled all the objections that might have suggested themselves, and one day, leaving the palace of Golconda as if for an ordinary promenade, I was firmly resolved never to return to it. I gained the forest more quickly than usual, and pushed on to portions far beyond those where we had previously ventured. At this distance I felt safe. I was quite sure they could not pursue us, for it had not rained for a long time, and the dry ground showed no trace of my enormous feet. Still, in order to make sure, I marched for half an hour along the bed of a shallow stream, to throw the dogs off the scent, and when I again stepped onto the ground I felt confident that I was now, indeed, to be for a long time alone with my dear little Princess Parvati. At last I had quitted that Court where everything combined to separate me from my little friend—ceremonies, etiquette, the great festivals, and the thousand demands of the toilette, which occupied her at all hours of the day, in order that she might never appear in public twice in the same costume. Now, there would be no more of all that. She was going to live quietly and happily in the forest, like a little Hermit, served and waited on by a great White Slave! And I would take such good care of her—serve her so devotedly—with such thoughtfulness, such affection, such love!... She was so light on my back that I did not feel her any more than if she had been a green fly, or a little blue-bird that had lighted on my rough skin. But I could hear her singing—and her voice delighted me. She was singing a very long and very beautiful song which one of her Maids of Honour had taught her; it was called the "Gita Govinda" and I think she did not understand it very well, but she liked it all the better on that account. From time to time I raised my trunk and she clasped the tip in her little fingers, and laughingly "shook hands" with me! She was delighted with this excursion, for it was the first of the kind she had taken. Of course, she had heard of the deep parts of the forest, filled with bright flowers, and she knew that she had not been allowed to come here for fear some heavy fruit might fall on her from a tree, or a venomous serpent dart out upon her. She was not fond of contradictions—nor of being thwarted by obstacles of any sort, and being forbidden to enter it, she was all the more desirous to do so; it was, therefore, with great glee that she permitted her good friend Iravata to conduct her to the Forbidden Forest. At the expiration of a couple of hours we had penetrated to the very heart of the wild wood. The trees overhead were of a prodigious height, and their tops so full of leaves that the sunlight could not pass through. No plants grew at their feet, and there were neither bushes nor vines; nothing but an endless number of tall slender trunks without branches; it was as if we had entered the colonnade of an immense temple. Parvati was a little afraid now of this vast solitude—this profound silence. She no longer sang, and when she spoke her voice sounded sad.... I hastened, therefore, to go in another direction. I remembered that a short distance from where we were the ground rose gently till it formed a little hillock, which was celebrated for its beauty; so I turned in that direction, and soon reached the spot. A perfumed breeze wafted from it the sound of birds singing in the branches, and Parvati began again her song. This new forest was wonderfully beautiful. There were so many flowers growing here that as I walked on and crushed them, my feet were stained as red as if I had been walking in blood. The trees bore more flowers than leaves, and swarms of bees buzzed among the branches. Little blossoms of blue and yellow bloomed even on the trunks of the trees, having pierced the bark with their tiny roots. There were great beds of tall plants which bore rich and fragrant blossoms. These were the Sacred Flowers, the dwelling place of the Good Fairies, who bestow great joys, and fulfill desires and hopes. Parvati wished to dismount and gather some of them. I wrapped my trunk around her slender waist, and placed her—like another flower—among the crimson blossoms. She picked seven of the handsomest, made an opening in the centre of each, and threaded them on a thin stem, which held them together without crushing them. Then she unfastened her hair and shook it down over her shoulders, and arranged the wreath upon her head as best she could. I had never seen her look so pretty; her royal head-dresses were too heavy and elaborate and weighed down her delicate head. I would have preferred always to see her crowned only with this wreath of flowers which she herself had made without the aid of either slaves or mirrors. I replaced her gently on my back and resumed my march through the forest. The vines had now become so numerous and so tall that I could no longer step over them; sometimes I had to rise on my hind legs and place my forefeet upon a tangle of green creepers that barred the way. The weight of my body was barely sufficient to break through these natural barriers and open a path before us. Often too, the trees grew so close together, and the branches hung so low that my dear little Parvati might have been struck and scratched by the twigs and briars; at such times I lifted my trunk and held up, out of her way, all that might have touched her—-on whom I would not have permitted so much as a flower to rest and annoy her! All that she saw delighted her. Great birds flew by with wonderful feathers, and she regretted not being able to catch them and make fans of their beautiful red and green tails. She longed to possess the little monkeys that chattered when they saw her, and threw down little nuts and fruits that lodged in her hair. She wanted the big insects that glittered in the sunshine, and hummed about the clustering flowers.... Alas! I could not give her any of them! What is more, I would not have cared to continue the excursion with a whole menagerie on my back! To tell the truth I was rather jealous of the attention Parvati gave to all these things, so much more beautiful than I.... The sun was about to set and the forest was transfigured in the red evening rays, when we reached the borders of a lake, all surrounded by trees, and so overgrown with lotus flowers that the water could hardly be seen. Parvati wished to dismount; I assisted her—but soon repented of my imprudence, when I saw her unfasten her long robe of silk and gold, throw it on the bank, and plunge into the shining water.... Like a careful nurse, I was alarmed lest my little mistress should catch cold, and I made desperate signals to her with my trunk to come out.... But she only looked at me coaxingly, took a lotus in each of her hands, and crossed her arms on her breast, as they do before the statues of Lachmi, when asking favours or returning thanks. So I let her remain.... I was weak enough to permit her to do so.... She was so joyous and full of spirits! I could see just her little round head among the lotus flowers, as she pushed them aside, walking on the bottom of the lake; only her laughing mouth and brilliant eyes showed under her wet drooping hair. She left behind her a trail of perfume on which floated the blue powder and the santal that had been scattered over her to give her the colour of the skies. And soon she might have been taken for any ordinary little girl had it not been for a look of royalty that shone in her eyes. <hr class="chap" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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