Impressions of Africa (French Literature Series) (26 page)

O
F ALL THE EMPEROR’S
sons, the twelve-year-old Rhejed was the most mischievous and rambunctious.

He spent his days inventing odd and rather outlandish games whose seeming intent was to put his life in danger.

The Behuliphruen, the usual scene of his hijinks, provided ample opportunity to give his impetuosity free rein. Sometimes the agile black child scaled a tall tree to pluck nests from the highest branches; sometimes he threw stones to chase away birds or quadrupeds, which he also knew how to catch with ingenious traps.

One day, emerging into a narrow clearing, Rhejed noticed a red-furred rodent that seemed to be sniffing the ground to find its way.

The child was holding a heavy stick he’d recently torn from a bush. With a sharp throw of the primitive weapon he slaughtered the rodent, which fell to its side on the bare ground.

Moving closer, Rhejed noticed an abundant puddle of drool leaking from the corpse’s mouth that gave off a remarkably strong and peculiar odor; disgusted by the sight, he crossed the clearing and continued on his way.

Suddenly he heard a violent beating of wings; turning around, he saw a formidable bird of prey with long waderlike claws, which, after describing several concentric circles, alit next to the rodent.

Rhejed retraced his steps, thinking he might also kill the bird, which was already attacking the carcass with its beak.

Wanting to get a bead on the especially vulnerable head, he softly approached from the front while the bird’s neck was lowered.

The boy was then surprised to see two olfactory openings above the beak that, no doubt picking up the smell of the strange drool from a distance, had alerted and then guided the bird in its rush to taste the promised feast.

Still armed with his stick, Rhejed ran up and struck the bird full in the occiput; it dropped without a sound.

But when he went to examine his new victim more closely, he felt himself held fast to the ground by a powerful magnetic force.

His right foot was resting on a heavy flat stone covered in the rodent’s drool.

Already half dry, this substance formed an irresistibly powerful glue, and Rhejed was able to dislodge his bare foot only at the price of violent efforts that left deep, painful abrasions on his sole.

When he was finally free, the little scamp, fearing he’d be trapped a second time, thought only of getting away from that dangerous place as fast as possible.

But a moment later, a distant shuddering of wings made him turn his head, and he saw in the sky a second raptor of the same race, which, attracted by the ever more pungent odor, was speeding toward the enticing bait.

Rhejed then conceived a bold plan, based on the adhesive properties of the astonishing drool and on the effect its smell clearly had on certain kinds of birds with mighty wingspans.

Some freshly trampled herbs showed him the path the rodent had recently taken.

At one point along these tracks, which another animal of the same species would likely soon follow, Rhejed dug a small hole that he concealed with delicate branches.

The next day, delighted by the success of his trap, the boy pulled from the tight excavation a red-furred rodent identical to the first, which he brought back alive to his hut.

Inspired by Fogar’s project and wishing to do something similar, the adventurous Rhejed planned to enliven the gala by having one of the nostril-birds that nested throughout the Behuliphruen lift him into the air.

The rodent, killed at the last moment, would furnish abundant drool that would both attract the required raptor and help quickly fashion an aerial harness.

This latter condition required a flat object that could hold the animal adhesive, which if simply spread on the ground would have been useless.

Exploring the wreckage of the
Lynceus
, Rhejed discovered a lightweight cabinet door perfectly suited to his purposes.

The boy revealed only a portion of his plan; fearing the inevitable paternal veto, he kept to himself anything related to his voyage into the wild blue yonder.

I
T HAD BEEN TWO MONTHS
since Seil-kor’s departure and we were impatiently awaiting his return: with preparations for the gala now complete, we feared that boredom, thus far kept at bay by rehearsals or playing our stock market, would soon regain its hold.

Fortunately, a wholly unexpected event provided a powerful distraction.

One evening, Sirdah came to tell us of a serious incident that had occurred earlier that day.

At around three o’clock, an ambassador from King Yaour, crossing the Tez in a dugout, had been admitted to Talou’s hut, where he relayed some glad tidings: the sovereign of Drelchkaff, having got wind of events in Ejur, keenly desired to hear the emperor sing in falsetto, dressed in his fabulous attire. He would unconditionally grant Sirdah’s cure if the blind girl’s father consented to get up on the Incomparables’ stage for him and sing Dariccelli’s
Aubade
in his female voice.

Flattered by the request and delighted at the prospect of restoring his daughter’s sight so cheaply, Talou was already formulating an affirmative reply when Gaiz-duh—for such was the Negro ambassador’s name—came forward and whispered some secret revelations. The supposed desire so ardently expressed was merely a ruse to allow Yaour to freely enter Ejur at the head of a sizeable entourage. Aware of Talou’s pride and predicting that his fearsome neighbor, wishing to dazzle his guest, would receive him surrounded by his entire army, the king planned to catch the enemy forces in a trap in the relatively confined space of Trophy Square. While the populace of Ejur would be drawn to the esplanade by the performance, the Drelchkaffian army would cross the Tez on a makeshift bridge of dugout canoes, then spread around the capital like a human cincture and invade the square from all sides at once. Just then, Yaour would give his entourage the signal to attack, and the Ponukelean warriors, squeezed as if in a vise, would be massacred by their fierce aggressors, who among many advantages would have that of surprise. As clear victor, Yaour would proclaim himself emperor, reducing Talou and all his lineage to slavery.

Gaiz-duh thus remorselessly betrayed his master, who had been rewarding him poorly for his services and often treated him cruelly. As to the price for this information, he deferred to Talou’s generosity.

Taking advantage of this forewarning, the emperor sent Gaiz-duh back with the mission to summon King Yaour the next day at sunset. Scenting in advance a magnificent recompense, the ambassador went off filled with hope, while Talou was already formulating in his head an entire plan of defense and attack.

The next day, on the emperor’s orders, half the Ponukelean troops hid in the vegetation of the Behuliphruen, while the rest took shelter in small groups in the huts of Ejur’s southernmost quarter.

At the appointed hour, Yaour and his entourage, led by Gaiz-duh, stood in a dozen dugouts and crossed the Tez.

Posted on the right bank, Rao, Mossem’s successor, awaited their landing; he led the king to Trophy Square, where Talou was waiting for him unarmed, decked out in his feminine toilette and surrounded by only a handful of guards.

On his arrival, Yaour glanced about him, looking disconcerted by the absence of the warriors whom he expected to catch unawares. Talou walked before him, and the two monarchs exchanged greetings that Sirdah, who remained with us, translated in a murmur.

First, Yaour, ill concealing his discomfiture, asked if he wouldn’t have the pleasure of seeing the handsome Ponukelean troops, reputed far and wide for their courage and proud bearing. Talou replied that his guest had come a little before the designated hour, and that his warriors, presently adjusting their finery, would assemble on the esplanade momentarily to enhance the splendor of the performance with their presence. Reassured, but fearing he’d roused the emperor’s suspicions with his imprudent question, Yaour immediately feigned preoccupation with trifles. He began extravagantly admiring Talou’s outfit and announcing his keen desire to own one just like it.

At these words, the emperor, who was seeking an occasion to gain time until the enemy army’s arrival, abruptly turned toward our group and, through Sirdah, ordered us to find in our trunks an outfit similar to his.

Accustomed to playing Goethe’s
Faust
on all her tours, Adinolfa ran off and returned after a moment, cradling in her arms the gown and wig she wore as Gretchen.

At the sight of the gift he was being offered, Yaour emitted yelps of joy. He laid his weapons on the ground and, thanks to his extremely svelte build, easily donned the gown, which fastened above his loincloth; then, putting on the blonde wig with its two thick braids, he took several majestic steps, evidently thrilled by the effect his bizarre get-up produced.

Suddenly there came the sound of an immense clamor outside the square, and Yaour, sensing a betrayal, quickly leapt to his weapons and tried to flee with his entourage. Only Gaiz-duh, switching to the ranks of his enemies, joined with the Ponukelean warriors who flew off in pursuit of the king, following Talou and Rao. Immediately attracted by the exciting spectacle taking place before our eyes, all of us ran in the same direction and soon reached the southern border of Ejur.

We could easily piece together what had just occurred. The Drelchkaffian army, following the royal directive, had crossed the Tez on a bridge of canoes; just as the last man set foot on the right bank, Talou’s forces, with a rallying cry, had surged simultaneously from the huts of Ejur and the bushes of the Behuliphruen to encircle the foe on all sides, profiting from the very tactic Yaour had envisioned. Already the ground was littered with Drelchkaffian casualties, and victory for the emperor’s men seemed assured.

Yaour, still decked out in his gown and wig, had bravely thrown himself into the fray and fought alongside his men. Armed with a lance, Talou rushed him, carrying his train on his left arm, and a strange duel was fought by these two monarchs of carnavalesque appearance. At first the king managed to parry several thrusts, but soon the emperor, after a clever feint, drove his shaft into his opponent’s breast.

Disheartened by the killing of their chief, the decimated Drelchkaffians lost little time in surrendering and were brought to Ejur as captives.

All the corpses except Yaour’s were thrown into the Tez, which dutifully washed them out to sea.

S
HORTLY BEFORE TALOU’S VICTORY
, an astonishing piece of news had spread as far as Ejur: people were talking of a European couple at Yaour’s side, a young woman and her brother whose meanderings had led them across the Tez.

The brother seemed to keep a discreet profile, but the beautiful and captivating female traveler was openly conducting an affair with Yaour, on whom her powerful charms had produced a deep and lasting effect.

After the battle, Talou had the two strangers brought to him, leaving them free to circulate unguarded while he decided their fate.

The attractive explorer, a Frenchwoman named Louise Montalescot, quickly struck up a friendship with us and, delighted to find herself among compatriots, related the many twists of fate that had led her and her brother to this distant African land.

Of humble origins, Louise was born in the outskirts of Paris. Her father, who worked in a ceramics factory, earned a steady living by making various models of vases and containers; this work required a true sculptor’s talent, but the good man remained the soul of modesty.

Louise had a younger brother, the object of her most ardent affections. Norbert—that was the boy’s name—had trained under his father since early childhood and could easily model fine statuettes in the guise of flasks and candlestick holders.

Sent to school at an early age, Louise demonstrated a remarkable aptitude for work; thanks to her excellent grades, she was awarded a scholarship to attend a private girls’ school and could thus pursue her studies more seriously. At twenty, having earned her diplomas, she lived comfortably off the lessons she gave, and meanwhile spent her days developing her knowledge of the arts and sciences. Consumed by a passion for hard work, she lamented the time she had to waste sleeping and eating.

She was especially fanatical about chemistry, and during her long nights of study she grimly pursued a certain grand discovery that had been germinating in her mind. She was trying to obtain, by a purely photographic process, a mechanism precise enough to guide a pencil or paintbrush with absolute steadiness. Already Louise was nearing her goal; but she was still lacking one essential oil, which thus far had eluded her. Every Sunday she went to collect samples in the woods around Paris, searching in vain for the as yet unknown plant that could perfect her mixture.

Reading in various explorers’ memoirs many enchanting descriptions of tropical flora, the young woman dreamed of crossing the torrid lands of central Africa, convinced that its unparalleled vegetation would increase her slim chances for success a hundredfold.

To take her mind off her obsession, Louise devoted part of each day to writing a brief treatise on botany, an attractive, well-illustrated tome aimed at a general readership that highlighted the astounding marvels of the plant kingdom. She made short work of the volume, which went through a large printing and earned her a small fortune. Finding herself with this unexpected windfall, the young woman thought only of undertaking the great voyage she so ardently desired.

But for some time already, she had been experiencing a pain in her right lung—a kind of sharp, insistent pressure that felt like a supply of air she could not exhale. Wishing to get an authoritative opinion before setting off on her travels, she consulted Dr. Renesme, whose celebrated work on chest illnesses she had read and admired.

The great specialist was struck by the rarity of the case. An internal tumor had formed in Louise’s lung, and the atony of the affected area interfered with the expulsion of inhaled air.

According to Renesme, the illness was surely caused by certain toxic gases that the young woman had absorbed while performing her chemical experiments.

It was now urgent to create an artificial outlet for the air, for without this precaution the tumor would continue to swell indefinitely. Moreover, the breathing tubes would produce a sound to let her monitor their good working order at all times—for the slightest obstruction of even one of her main organs would allow the tumescence to make irreversible progress.

Admirably endowed physically, Louise, despite her natural seriousness, was not above a certain coquetry. Perturbed by Renesme’s diagnosis, she looked for a means of rendering as elegant and aesthetically pleasing as possible the surgical instrument that would henceforth be part of her body.

Taking as pretext her imminent departure for perilous horizons, she decided to wear men’s clothing, which was better suited to the hardships of her intrepid journey.

She settled on an officer’s uniform, which would allow her to disguise the sound-producing tubes as aiguillettes, much as one conceals a hearing horn in the armature of a fan or umbrella.

Renesme gamely accepted this whim and built his device according to the desired specifications.

The operation succeeded to perfection; the tumor, located at the base of the lung, could now escape through a narrow opening, to which the doctor fitted a stiff tube subdivided into several hollow, whistling aiguillettes.

Thanks to the beneficial effects of this safety valve, Louise could henceforth indulge in all sorts of strenuous activities without fear. Every evening she had to block the opening with a metal stopper after removing the device, which the calm, regular breathing of sleep made superfluous.

When she first saw herself in her officer’s costume, the young woman felt somewhat consoled for her misfortune. Her new outfit was in fact quite becoming, and Louise admired the effect produced by her magnificent blonde mane, which she let fall in natural ringlets beneath her thin policeman’s kepi jauntily cocked over one ear.

Even during her busiest periods of study, Louise had never neglected her brother Norbert.

Her affection for him had grown only more attentive after the disappearance of their parents, who had died at almost the same time during a terrible winter that spawned several lethal epidemics.

Norbert now occupied his father’s place at the ceramics factory, where his marvelous dexterity allowed him to rapidly execute many graceful, lifelike figurines. But apart from this genuine talent the young man had little skill, and he was completely under the excellent influence of his sister.

Louise wanted to share her sudden wealth with Norbert and resolved to bring him with her on her magnificent journey.

The young woman had recently taken an interest in a tame magpie found under strange circumstances. The bird had appeared to her for the first time one Sunday, in the middle of the Chaville woods. Noon had just sounded in the distance, and Louise, after a tiring morning of gathering plant samples, had sat down beneath a tree to have her frugal lunch. Suddenly, a brazen and greedy magpie came hopping toward her as if begging for breadcrumbs, which she immediately tossed its way in abundance. The grateful bird hopped still closer without any fear, letting itself be petted and picked up by the generous benefactor, who, touched by this trusting sympathy, took it back home with her and began training it. Soon the magpie came at the slightest call to perch on its mistress’s shoulder and pushed obedience to the point of fetching in its beak any light object she pointed at.

Louise was now too attached to her winged pet to leave it in someone else’s care, and it was therefore with her on the day when, full of hopeful exuberance, she and her brother boarded the express for Marseille.

Carried to Porto Novo by a rapid steamer, the siblings hastily recruited a small escort of whites and headed south. Louise’s plan was to reach the Vorrh, which several explorers’ accounts had mentioned; it was especially there that she imagined she’d discover all sorts of marvelous plants.

Her hopes were not disappointed when, after a long and wearying trek, she entered the imposing forest primeval. She began her research straightaway, feeling immense joy upon seeing, at virtually every step, some flower or plant that constituted a new and unknown treasure.

Before embarking on her trip, Louise had concocted a corrosive liquid to facilitate her chore. A droplet of this acid, poured onto the right kind of plant, would reveal the indubitable presence of the desired essence by causing a small combustion and some light smoke.

But despite the infinite variety of specimens that crowded the Vorrh, her persistent trials remained fruitless. For many days Louise pursued her task with courage, advancing ever forward beneath the remarkable foliage. Sometimes, spotting some strange and attractive leafage on a tree, she pointed it out to the magpie, which plucked it and brought it to her in its beak.

In this way they crossed the entire Vorrh from north to south without result. Louise, in despair, had reached the point of conducting her experiment only mechanically, when all of a sudden a droplet of her concoction, dribbled onto a new kind of plant simply out of habit, provoked the brief combustion she’d vainly awaited for so long.

The young woman experienced a moment of exhilaration that made up for all her past disappointments. She gathered up a copious amount of the precious delicate, red-colored plant, whose seeds, cultivated in a hothouse, should ensure her future provision.

It was at nightfall that the explorer had made her momentous discovery; they set up camp where they’d halted and everyone lay down to sleep, after a decent meal during which they made plans for an immediate return to Porto Novo.

But the next morning, Louise and Norbert awoke to find themselves alone. Their companions had betrayed them, making away, after cutting its strap, with a certain bag that the young woman always wore slung across her shoulder, whose various compartments contained a weighty supply of gold and banknotes. To avoid capture, the scoundrels had waited until they reached the farthest point of their journey, so as to leave the two abandoned siblings with no provisions and no hope of getting back.

Louise had no desire to tempt fate by trying to reach Porto Novo; instead she continued south, in hopes of encountering a native village where she could get repatriated against the promise of a ransom. She gathered an ample provision of fruits and soon emerged from the Vorrh, having crossed the whole of the vast forest without seeing a trace of Velbar or Sirdah, whom the fire would soon evict from their retreat.

After several hours of walking, Louise reached the Tez, whose course, at a certain distance from Ejur, veered distinctly northward. A tree trunk was drifting randomly down the rapids. At a sign from his sister, Norbert grabbed onto the long flotsam and, pushed by a strong branch that acted as a scull, the two exiles could ford the river, straddling the wet bark as best they could. The young woman was glad to put this barrier between her and her former guides, who might have second thoughts about leaving their victims alive and return with villainous intent.

From this point on, the two siblings invariably followed the left bank of the Tez and thus fell under the sway of Yaour, who was profoundly moved by Louise’s beauty.

During her studies, the girl had circulated in a world of students whose very advanced attitudes had rubbed off on her; she openly displayed her disdain for certain social conventions and sometimes went so far as to advocate free love. Yaour, who was young and had a striking face, had a powerful effect on her imagination, with its love of the unexpected. As she saw it, two individuals drawn to each other by mutual attraction should let no prejudice hinder them. Happy and proud of the romantic side of the adventure, she gave herself unreservedly to this strange king whose passion had been ignited at first glance.

All plans for returning home were postponed by this unplanned denouement.

During their treacherous flight in the heart of the Vorrh, the guides had left behind a certain bag, whose contents, worthless to them but invaluable to Louise, included a host of objects and ingredients related to her great photographic discovery, as yet unfinished.

The young woman resumed her labors with renewed purpose, sure of her success now that she had the unobtainable essence furnished by the red plants from the virgin forest.

Still, her task demanded many more long and painstaking efforts, and she had not yet reached her goal when the Battle of the Tez broke out.

Concluding her story, Louise confessed her violent grief over the death of the unfortunate Yaour, whose glorious memory would forever hover above her entire existence.