by Ralph Helfer
Kelly became a frequent visitor, bringing fruit, nuts, and gifts from the city. They were walking through the Elephantarium’s facilities when Kelly pointed to a gold-domed structure standing high above the trees in a nearby section of the forest.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“Sabu told me it’s where they keep the Royal White Hathi; that means ‘elephant’ in Hindu. Nobody is allowed to see him unless granted permission by the maharajah himself.”
“Maybe someday he’ll let you see it,” said Kelly.
“That would be a fantasy come true, ’cause I don’t believe it really exists. If it does, I can understand why it’s so very sacred and respected by the Hindu people. Maybe it’s just for their eyes.” Bram thought about it for a moment and then changed the subject. “I still don’t understand how we ended up in Calcutta. This is way off the course the ship normally takes. At least that’s what I was told.”
“Well,” said Kelly, “that storm was powerful! Once we rounded the tip of India, the hurricane blew us off course, and the current from the bay pulled us in.”
“Good thing it did or we might never have made it.”
“When you think of all those people lost…”
“…and the animals,” Bram added.
“I know. It seems impossible.”
“We’re very lucky, Kelly. The Indian people here call it good karma. They say we were saved to do something special here on earth.”
“Well, whatever it is I’m supposed to do will happen in the good old U.S.A.”
“What? When?”
“Probably next week. I received a telegram from the circus saying how badly they and all the people back there feel, and the sooner I return, the better.”
“Did it mention anything about the animals?”
“No, an earlier wire said they were sorry that most of the people and animals were lost.”
Bram stopped for a moment. He placed his hand on Kelly’s arm. “Kelly, this is very hard for me to say and I never wanted anybody to lie for me in my life, but if they should ask about Mo or read something…”
“What’s a Mo? I don’t know anything about a Mo.” Bram looked at Kelly. He didn’t know what to say. “Hey,” said Kelly, “no big deal, okay?”
“Okay.”
Kelly threw his arm around Bram’s shoulder, and together they finished their tour of the compound.
Bram asked everyone he met if he’d heard about any survivors, hoping to hear some news of Hands. There was only one small newspaper in town that appeared once a week. By the second week, the sinking was old news, and just a small article appeared on the back page, retelling the same facts.
Everybody knew that the ship had gone down in the worst typhoon to hit the area in the last decade, and that there had been only a few survivors. Wreckage was found up and down the coastline; the bodies washed up on shore included that of a male elephant, but no news about any living person or animal had been reported.
Sabu noticed that Bram was quiet most of the afternoon, staying away from the others, staying close to Modoc. He approached respectfully and placed his hand on Bram’s shoulder. Bram looked up.
“You seem most sad today, Bram. What has happened?”
“It’s…the elephant they found on the shoreline was Krono. Another friend lost. It makes me sad when I remember all my friends who…died.”
“They say that no one ever dies. We simply move into another form to live again. In our country there is no death, only the changing from one into another, much like the caterpillar into the butterfly. I’m sure your friends have all come back in their new and brilliant forms.”
“Thank you, Sabu. I would love to see Krono and the others again, no matter what form they are in.”
Later that day Bram checked with the hospital to see if there was any news of Hands. No one could understand what might have happened to him. Bram spent the night with Modoc and held tightly to her, so that he could feel her form close.
The next day a courier brought a message written in gold ink, saying that the maharajah would be pleased if Bram would accept an invitation for lunch at the palace. Folded over the messenger’s arm was a smart-looking red and brown kurta, insignia and all—a gift for Bram to wear at the luncheon. It was exciting for Bram to even think of seeing and speaking with such a powerful man—a man who apparently loved elephants the way Bram did.
Bram was escorted to the palace by Sabu, who told him all the things he should and should not do in the ways of diplomacy and etiquette at the palace.
“Never sit higher than he sits. Never interrupt his speaking. Remember to thank him for his courtesy. Always answer his question before asking your own…”
By the time they arrived, Bram was a nervous wreck. “I’ll never remember all that!”
Sabu smiled. “I’m sure it will be there when you need it.”
They entered the palace through the purple and white marble great hall. Its length was equal to the distance from the barn all the way down to the mailbox back home, thought Bram. They were met by one of the maharajah’s assistants, who escorted them to a large, airy, open room adjoining what appeared to be a veranda.
The setting had captured nature’s beauty, with clear blue pools, rock crystal waterfalls, tropical plants from the jungle. Pink flamingoes, kiwi birds, and atlas deer were free to roam the grounds.
A table at the edge of the pond had been set for four. Long-stemmed Italian red crystal goblets, hand-painted china dishes, intricately folded napkins appealingly graced the table. The assistant who had vanished for a moment returned carrying a gold tray with two clear crystal glasses filled with an iridescent purple drink. Bram followed Sabu’s gesture by taking a glass. Cautiously sipping, he found it so delicious that he had to fight the temptation to gulp it all at once.
The echoes of two men talking could be heard as they entered the room. Both appeared to be in their forties, both slightly gray at the temple. The first wore a turban encrusted with jewels and was dressed in a white velvet coat, adorned with pearls; the larger pearls dripped off the collar and cascaded down the front of the fitted jacket. Smaller pearls outlined the pockets and seams. Matching velvet pants ended at a pair of velvety smooth suede shoes.
The second man was British and wore an expensive bush jacket adorned with epaulets. English riding jodhpurs and highly polished oxblood riding boots completed his wardrobe.
Sabu turned and lowered his head slightly as the two men approached, and Bram followed his friend’s actions.
“Ah! Welcome, my boy. Sabu, good to see you.” The man in the velvet jacket stepped forward to shake both their hands. This was undoubtedly the maharajah. He continued, “I would like you both to meet Mr. John Rudyard, my good friend from the teak forest of Burma.”
All parties shook hands. The maharajah turned to Bram. “I want you to know that I have had a detailed account of your actions at sea, and I commend you for your bravery and loyalty to your dear friend, Modoc.”
Bram, a bit embarrassed by the compliment, lowered his head and whispered, “Thank you.”
The maharajah continued, “Mr. Rudyard will be staying with us for a short time, using our facilities to train some of his elephants for his forest operation.”
As the men returned to the patio, four waiters appeared to draw back their chairs for seating.
“If I can be of any service during your stay, Mr. Rudyard, please don’t hesitate to inform me of your needs,” offered Sabu.
“That’s very kind of you, I must say,” answered Rudyard. He turned to Bram. “You, young man, have done an extraordinary thing, keeping your…what’s her name? Modoc? Yes, Modoc, afloat for such a desperately long period of time.”
“She has a strong heart, sir,” Bram replied.
“More like a loving one, I’d say, hmm?” interjected the maharajah.
Bram fiddled with his napkin. Sabu, seeing his predicament, came to his rescue. “Young Bram has done a remarkable job with Modoc, Your
Highness. He seems to have that special ability with elephants to control them through their emotions, rather than forcibly.”
“Yes, I have heard of what has happened since your arrival, and find it most interesting.” Then, turning to Rudyard, the maharajah added, “John, perhaps Bram would like to see how you prepare elephants for work in the teak forest.”
“Of course, it would be my pleasure.”
The sumptuous feast in no way resembled a simple lunch. Bram and Sabu left the palace with Bram talking a mile a minute. The palace, the food, meeting the maharajah and Mr. Rudyard, and soon going to see elephant training for something he never knew existed was more than he could have imagined. All his young life Bram had been told how to train elephants to perform. Certainly there were times when they were needed to help with heavy work around the circus, but this was different. These elephants spent their lives working, as circus elephants did performing. Bram talked all the way back to Modoc’s quarters, and then he had to repeat it for her!
19
A FEW DAYS HAD PASSED when a small Indian man wearing a sailor’s uniform came to see Bram. As the man approached, Bram recognized him as one of the sailors who had been in the water with them. The sailor walked slowly toward him, then, taking his hat off, looked down and greeted Bram in a heavy Indian accent.
“My name is Vinod Shah. I am a seaman in the British navy. I was on the ship and later in the ocean with you. I have come to beg your forgiveness for the horrible thing that I have done.” Bram had no idea what the man was talking about. The man continued, “When we were rescued on the first ship, Hands wanted to try to bring Modoc on board, maybe drag her in the water, but it would have been unrealistic! It was wrong of me to hit him, but I was thinking of myself…and the others!”
The man was overwrought, completely shaken by his confession.
“Sit down, Mr. Shah.” Bram offered him a chair. “Explain, what do you mean by ‘hit him’?”
“I picked up a piece of wood and hit him over the head, hard. He…he fell. I killed him.” The man’s weeping became uncontrollable. “He was an inspiration to us all. I tried to find out what happened to his body but no one could help me. We never knew that you and Modoc were saved.” Vinod’s face flushed at the remembrance.
“Did you check the newspapers?” questioned Bram. “There might have been something.”
“It is quite possible,” Vinod said. “But in this country the news on one side of the street may not be that which is talked about on the other.” Mr. Shah got up from his seat. “I wanted to thank you and Modoc for saving me…all of us. I will leave you now.”
The next week brought news that many bodies had washed up a hundred miles to the east. The current had been strong and swept them out to sea, only to be carried back to shore by yet another current. It sent shivers up Bram’s spine to think it could have been him and Mo. Listed among the dead were Captain Patel, Cook, and some of his crew. Also six Americans including Jake, the elephant trainer.
Bram knew he would never hear about the big cats, the bears, or the chimps. They had been kept in heavy cages, which would have sunk immediately. Poor little Oscar, how he must have panicked; Emma, Krono…and Tina, never getting anything right…Maybe it was just as well, he thought, as they didn’t suffer a slow death like so many of the humans in the water. His heart went out to Appelle, the clown, and Himmel, the bear trainer, and the rest. He hoped they never found out. Losing loved ones was one death, drowning at sea was another…one too many.
As the months passed, Dr. Scharren and Bram worked diligently to bring Modoc back to health. Even the depression that had so worried Bram now seemed to be gone.
He decided he was ready to move into his new quarters overlooking the elephant training area. For Bram it was like going to heaven. No other place like this existed in all the world.
A spiral staircase led up to his apartment. His quarters featured a wonderful view of the training arena. The entire residence was made of carved teak, sanded and polished to perfection.
Bram’s gifts from the maharajah, the carved bed, table, and chair, fit perfectly into his new lodging. A beautiful hand-woven machar dani—mosquito netting—hung in a large knot from the ceiling above the bed. Even the floor was made out of teak limbs and leaves, treated and woven into a pattern trampled by elephant feet until firm and flat. The big, gracious double window overlooking the ring opened to a small balcony where one could sit and relax with a cool drink while watching the elephants down below.
The arena itself was made out of huge teak logs. The tongue and groove construction formed an indestructible fence for even the might of an elephant, were it to choose such an exit.
A nearby storage facility held various-sized pedestals, solid drums, pull harnesses, drag chains, headpieces, and equipment of different shapes and materials neatly arranged according to the trainers’ needs.
Modoc was kept underneath the apartment in a specially constructed area so she and Bram could be within voice and touch of each other. She learned quickly that she had only to rub against the staircase to alert Bram, as he could feel the vibrations throughout the house.
He looked forward to working with Mo in the arena, and to trying out the different equipment. Just as exciting was the prospect of watching Mr. Rudyard train his hathis.
Bram heard that this maharajah owned more elephants than any before him. He had a genuine love for them and used any excuse to have a parade to show them off.
The maharajah’s favorite elephant was Atoul, the sacred white one. Bram had heard of such an animal, but still believed it to be just a story.
“Ah, but it is true, Master Bram,” Sabu told him, “and I feel that someday the maharajah will allow you to see him. He is kept away from the others in a golden temple located in the forest, on the grounds of the palace. No one is allowed to go there. Atoul is the largest of all elephants, with tusks that weigh seventy-five kilograms each. Their base are gray as the mourning dove, the tips milky white. His color is the white of snow, and he has deep-set black eyes. His nails are painted bloodred, and the hair of his tail is braided into the pattern used by the ancient mystics to bring togetherness to the people. Only one man, Jagrat, a mystic holy man, has been trained to handle him. It is said that he has learned the way into the elephant’s heart and found peace and contentment there.”
“Maybe someday Modoc could meet him,” said Bram, aglow with the wonder of it all.
“Maybe,” said Sabu.
Bram’s quarters were a delight, and he would sit many hours at the window watching the mahouts bring their animals in for training. One day he saw the arena being cleared for the next session. Twenty-five huge, heavy timbers were rolled in by many assistants and laid in a row along with some heavy-duty harnesses and chains. Into the arena strode a man leading two fairly large elephants. It was Mr. Rudyard. He waved to Bram. Bram returned the gesture and moved to the balcony to get a better view. Each elephant sported a fine pair of ivory tusks. Bram watched as Mr. Rudyard put the elephants through a procedure of pushing, pulling, lifting, carrying, and dragging the logs from one pile to create another.
Sabu arrived and watched with Bram for a while. “Their names are Dindhi and Kali,” he told Bram. “He trains elephants to work the teak up in the forest region of Burma. He’s quite good, and the forest villagers respect and trust him.”
“Isn’t it hard work for the elephants?” asked Bram.
“Yes, but it also builds them into strong and healthy animals. They work only four hours a day and receive superb care. It is a privilege to be a teak elephant, as he can master the needs of the mahout. And it is just as difficult to become a mahout, as everything you see being done here must eventually be controlled from the top.”
That night Bram lay in bed thinking of what it must be like to live in the forest, working with the other trainers, having the elephants hauling and pushing those great logs. In many ways he felt better about it than training elephants to perform for the pub
lic, which sometimes seemed disrespectful to the elephants, having them sit up and roll over like a well-trained pet. Yet he knew that kind of thinking came from people who were judgmental of others. If the animal doesn’t know what it is doing is foolish, then only the person who thinks it is suffers those feelings. As long as the animal enjoys what it’s doing, and is not forced into something it doesn’t want to do, then it’s okay.
The early morning sun found Bram lying with his head at the foot of the bed, looking up at the carved headboard. In the center was the finest carving of them all. It was of Atoul. One front foot held high, trunk lifted, ears alert, tusks speared forward—he appeared as a spiritual elephant god. Bram’s gaze was so intense, his eyes burned. He squeezed them shut for a fraction of a second, then opened them, readjusting the focus. His skin became cold and clammy. Atoul was staring at him!
The dark eyes were set into a brow of white, and the moon gave them the appearance of moving. They became disjointed and left Atoul’s body, coming toward Bram! Bram rolled away, landing on the floor. He peered back over the bed at the headboard and found everything in order, as it had been.
