The Day of Resis

The elephants were sadly emaciated, for they had now been seven days without food or water. Their great bodies looked gaunt, and their little eyes were sunken well into the head. Their bodies were nearly half covered with the ashes, and together with this and the fact that they were so weak they could only move their heads, turning them from side to side, showing that there was still life in their huge bodies.

“Yes, if we could get these elephants to the villa,” said Onrai, “they could well take the place of those which were killed.”

“But even if you were to get them there, they would, with returning strength, grow as wild as ever, would they not?” said Mr. Bruce.

“No,” said Onrai, “hunger always tames an elephant, and if he is taken while hungry, and given food and placed with tame elephants, he is generally as docile and manageable as any of those which have been in captivity all their lives.”

“This is strange,” said Mr. Graham.

“Yes,” replied the King, “it is, but nevertheless true. Elephants do not seem to have the fear of human beings that many other animals have, but seem rather to like the association of man. I have seen wild elephants follow us from out of the jungle, right down to the gate of the Hunting Reserve, as gentle and seemingly as tame as the ones we were riding, and I have no doubt that if we had let them through the gate, they would have followed us to the city, and would have been just as happy and contented with their tame companions as they had been running wild in the jungle.”

“It seems a pity, then, that we have to leave them here,” said Mr. Bruce, “when with help they might be gotten to where they could be nursed back to life.”

“It would take considerable time and trouble, though, to do so,” said Onrai. “Still, if we had men with us they could bring them food and water and in this way put life enough into them to get them to the villa. But come, the sun is nearly hidden behind the cliffs, and we have a long ride before us.”

As if the dying elephants knew that their would-be rescuers were leaving them, they turned their heads and watched them as they rode away, the most pitiful expression coming into their little black eyes. There were easily a hundred of them, and they made a great black spot on the plain with their bodies, which were only half covered.

Our friends now hurried toward the villa, and after a ride of two hours, again pulled up in front of the terrace. They had entered the villa, and were just about to seat themselves to the evening meal, when the tramping of many zebras’ hoofs were heard, and our friends, going to the front entrance, looked toward the now covered avenue, and there saw in the half light, a band of not less than two hundred mounted men. When they saw the lights of the villa they turned and came toward it. Silently they picked their way between the trees and up to the terrace, where, recognizing the King, they gave a loud shout and then began a chant, which Onrai explained to his companions, was a chant of praise. After the chant was finished, the King stood on the terrace steps and said:

“Onians, my countrymen, the sight of your faces, coming so unexpectedly, pleases me greatly and draws from my heart some of the sadness which the events of the past short while have caused. Your presence makes me feel that if some of our dearly beloved men have gone, there yet remains their sons and brothers and fathers, who will make this fair Land of On yet the same as we knew it before the fearful eruption. We have met with a terrible loss, but our men died in a good cause, and died bravely.”

“We do not understand you, oh King,” said one of the foremost.

“Ah, I forgot,” said Onrai, “but enough to-night. Find quarters for yourselves and beasts, and on the morrow I will explain further. Prepare yourselves, however, for sad news, for such you will hear.”

The men turned from the terrace and the King and his guests again went into the villa. Onrai seemed much depressed, for how was he going to tell these men that their fathers, sons and brothers had perished by the hands of a band of negroes, and the terrible shower of ashes. They would not understand either unless they could realize that this new covering of ashes had overtaken their friends unexpectedly, and had buried them. But then it would be hard to make them understand the eruption and what caused it. They were too far away at the time to see or know anything of the awful overflow, unless it be a black cloud which they could possibly see. They may have felt the shocks of earthquake, but even this they might not have experienced. Then they could know nothing of how their friends had met death, nor could they understand the means by which they had fallen.

So the King had a hard task before him in the morning and it worried him fearfully. Enola had seen his downcast countenance, and guessing the cause, had followed him out on the terrace. Taking hold of his arm, as he paced up and down, she said:

“Onrai, do not give up at the outstart. This is a sad task which you have to perform. But it is only the first one of a number like ones which will come later, when the mothers and sisters and wives of the unfortunates will come to gain information from you, when you will be in the city. So if you give up now what will you do after awhile? Be strong and make these men understand as well as possible, the real condition of things. Try and impress them with the greatness of the deed which made such heroes of their dead comrades, and of the fearful consequences if they had failed to act so nobly and bravely. Say not too much about the eruption, but leave the impression that it buried and burned the hated negroes who had invaded this country, and had slaughtered so many of their countrymen. Impress them with the fact that all of these brave Onians were killed in defence of their country and their loved ones, and then, if you can make them understand why these negroes were here, and how they entered the country, they will better appreciate the great sacrifice of life which has been made for them. Let them still retain their old belief that theirs is the only world on this sphere, letting them think that the negroes came from another world far away. They can better understand the latter for they have seen us and believe that we came from another planet, and this too, would leave the old belief unshaken, and would insure less unhappiness, than if their life-long teachings were destroyed.”

“You are right,” said Onrai, “as you always are, and I will act upon your advice. But Enola, have you thought of the time when we will be married? We are about to return to the city and the word has gone forth that on the Day of Resis you will marry me.”

“The day has then been fixed?” questioned Enola. “I had not learned this.”

“Yes, it has been decided upon,” said the King. “On that great day when so many of my countrymen will meet, with joy and loud songs of praise, on the evening of that day, after the ceremonies have been performed, you will become my wife.”

Enola had expected that Onrai would make some such announcement soon, but she had no idea that he would name such an early day, for, as she understood it, the Day of Resis, was but a short time away.

“When is the Day of Resis?” asked Enola.

“Four weeks from to-day, according to your calendar,” said Onrai.

“Is not that very soon, Onrai?” asked Enola.

“Too soon?” exclaimed Onrai; “how can you ask such a question, Enola? If you love me as I do you, you would wish, as do I, that the day was to-morrow. The time to me seems a long way off. Our days will not be too many after our marriage, and it is well we should add to these as many as possible. And again, my people have so decreed that we should be married on that day.”

“What are the ceremonies of the great Day of Resis?” again questioned Enola.

“Hush, Enola, you must not ask me. The secret of the day is never divulged, or even spoken of among those who know its secrets. But once seen, the secret is then yours, and you will then know the meaning of the Day of Resis. It is a glorious day, a day of great rejoicing and happiness. Not one on that great day but feels a wonderful happiness, even those who are not direct participants in its great ceremonies. It falls to the lot of all, though, to be principal participants in the proceedings of the day, one day of his life, and this is the greatest day of all his or her days. Their joy is supreme, and their happiness knows no bounds.”

“It must, indeed, be a great day,” said Enola, “and the people have chosen this day to be my wedding day. How they must love their King!”

“Yes, the King and the fair stranger whom he is to marry,” said Onrai.

“I doubt the latter,” said Enola, “for they were too ready to kill both her and her friends when they thought that she had been the cause of the storm.”

“Don’t, don’t, Enola, mention that fearful time. I would blot it from my mind. It was the one time in my life that I lost confidence in my people, and the one time when I would have turned against them. I feel, though, that they have now bitterly regretted their action, for they have seen the folly of it.”

“Will we be married in the Temple?” asked Enola, wishing to take Onrai’s mind from such a painful subject as the one she had mentioned.

“Yes,” said Onrai; “in the Temple, surrounded by my people, and the ceremony will be grand in the extreme. I am, I suppose, the first King who has ever been married, but this, of course, I cannot say positively, for we know nothing of the reign or history of past Kings. Still, the high priest has said as much. Our marriage ceremonies are mostly of a religious nature, and are accompanied by much song and music. Our marriage garments are made of pure cloth of gold, and those who will be with us, will be robed much in the same way.”

“Shall we live in the Temple?” again asked Enola.

“Yes,” said Onrai; “but in apartments which you have never seen; apartments grand beyond description. These apartments were made by the builder of the Temple, for the King in whose reign an unusual event would occur. So says the high priest; and he further says that my marriage is an event never before heard of, and that it must have been this which the founder of the country foresaw when he had these chambers planned and held for this purpose. None but the high priest has ever entered them, but they must be sublime from what he has told me of them.”

“And what will be my life as the King’s wife?” questioned Enola.

“Your life will be much the same as it is now, but you will be called upon to take a part in all duties which belong to the King. In the ceremonies of the Day of Resis, for instance, you will stand near me and perform the same duties which alone belong to myself, and in this way, sharing the duties of my office, we go down to our death, happy, knowing no sorrows or troubles and assured of that great happiness in the eternity beyond.”

“And do we then go together?” asked Enola, as she remembered the mode of death of some of the women of India.

“Yes; it is so decreed,” said Onrai.

The horror of this made Enola faint for a moment, and she made a resolve to leave this land as soon as possible. Until beyond the rocky cliffs again, all happiness for her had flown.