Swimming with the Elephants (draft)

A story inspired by this photo. Click the pic to see where I found it.



Of all the stories my grandfather told us, this was my favorite. The first time I heard it all nine of us grandchildren were up in the summer cabin where he spent all four seasons. There was a cold spell very early that year, and the city-raised of us young ones were already in awe when our grandfather tucked us into blankets in front of the fireplace like a row of little sausages to roast.

"Now I will tell you the story," my grandfather said, "of the only time I was ever afraid."

"This was the summer I spent in India, traveling with a few close friends. We exhausted the places that we had read about in newspapers. There were four of us from home, five if you count the fellow countryman that we met on the road to Bombay. Rajeev was the sixth in our little band. We hired him to be our guide in the wilder parts of the country, but six headstrong young men from London as we were are unlikely to be content following for long.

"In a matter of days we started taking roads that Rajeev did not recommend and knocking on doors that he hung back from. But he stayed on to be our translator anyways. It's still a mystery to me." My grandfather broke off here to smile into a dim corner of the room. "Maybe he was awestruck by the glamor of traveling with strapping young men." We could hear someone shaking with mirth in that dim corner, but us young ones were entranced by our grandfather's voice and did not turn to look. "Or maybe he was awestruck at the lengths we would go to prove that we were not mortal.

"On the day this story takes place we awoke in a small village on the bank of a great river. We had arrived so late the night before that none of the villagers had met us yet, but there was a great buzz of gossip when we emerged from a hut.

"Rajeev was in the thick of it, surrounded by several men and children. Though in western style clothes, he crouched in the dirt with the locals, speaking their language and paying close attention as they spoke rapidly and motioned with their hands. When he spotted me coming into the sunlight, Rajeev straightened quickly and came to meet me.

"'Alex! Alex! I've found your way to cross the river!' Rajeev was very animated, very exited as he came to greet me. 'You shall all travel here as the local people do. You will travel on elephants!' At the last word he swept one arm into the air, indicating the great size of the beasts.

"This was exciting news to my friends and me. We had been fascinated by the elephants we had seen and the men riding them, but had not been able to ride them yet, and Rajeev knew we had this wish. He had never steered us into trouble before (though he had been pulled there by us), so his judgment was trusted as sound.

"When all of us had woken, Rajeev took us into another hut and breakfast was brought for us. It was the most unusual dish I tried that summer, a mix of fruit, spices, and flavors I could not rightly identify. Henry asked what it was, and Rajeev translated for us that it was a special meal eaten by elephant tamers. A small crowd was waiting outside after we ate, but they did not address us. The villagers only followed as we were led to where, Rajeev said, 'the elephants wait.'

"We asked why the locals followed us. Rajeev said they were sad to see us go, but the feeling in the air was much more like a parade. We asked why there were only five elephants. Rajeev told us one for each, that he would find a different way to the next town. We asked who would lead us. Rajeev said the elephants knew what to do, as though they were a train of animals, that we would be taken care of at the next town. We asked how why the elephants did not have the colorful harnesses we saw the ones in other places wearing. We asked how we were supposed to hold on atop the elephants. We asked how we were supposed to climb onto the elephants. To each of these questions, Rajeev merely said that we had the opportunity to experience elephant riding like true tamers."

My grandfather paused, resting in his chair. We were all silent, waiting breathlessly to hear what would happen. After a moment of collecting his thoughts, my grandfather's voice rose again to fill the room.

"I was the first to climb aboard. The crowd watched silently as we jumped and stretched, trying to reach the backs of those ten-foot high beasts. I solved the problem by climbing up a nearby tree and leaping onto the closest elephant. It lurched beneath me, taking a few agitated steps, but my friends and I laughed. So did Rajeev. The man who had fed us breakfast, however, did not. There was a sharp look on his face, and he called out in his language.

"His words made the elephants still, as all of them had shifted anxiously. More words brought the elephants to their knees, even mine. My friends were quiet as they saw how easy it was to climb an elephant this way. Even the villagers were silent as each of us mounted our rides. The atmosphere of fun returned, however, when at the trainer's command, the elephants stood again, and began their lurching, swaying walk to the edge of the village near the river. Rajeev was laughing and talking loudest of them all.

"By the time we reached the water, each of us riders had found our own way to deal with the jolting gait of the elephants' stride. They did not stop or slow, but continued straight into the river, single file. All the people of the village, the elephant tamer, and Rajeev stopped behind us, cheering and waving as the elephants splashed on. I watched the people until I felt the first sharp dip forward, then turned my attention to the river we were beginning to cross.

"The water looked calm there, and the opposite bank was very long stone's throw away. I guessed in my mind that the water would be six feet deep in the middle; too deep for a man to cross, but no trouble for a massive elephant. We were only a quarter way across, no longer single file, when I began to feel that guess was dangerously wrong. Already the water had risen to my elephant's chin, and he still walked on. I scooted, as did my friends, from the beast's neck to the peak of his back, hoping to keep out of the rising water.

"A third of the way across the river the struggle to stay dry was lost, and the only struggle that remained was to maintain hold on the elephants. We were shouting to each other, but had no way to help, let alone reach, our friends. Rory was the first to lose his grip, lose hold of the elephant completely. I remember his shout, a wordless cry of fear, as the weight of water in his clothes dragged him into the river. The water was too deep, the ride was too rough, the elephants hides too slick and too steep. The elephants were swimming, and soon their riders were, too.

"Henry didn't fall in like the rest of us. He was standing, barefoot, braced on his ride's back. But Henry, such a good friend, couldn't simply watch his friends thrashing in the water. Henry jumped in, too, reaching out to help the weakest of the swimmers: me.

"The elephants weren't close together as they swam across that river, but that mattered little when we were under the water. Their massive feet swung back and forth, churning the river as they swam. Every movement created a powerful current that pushed me into one leathery body or pulled me towards another. I could sense the limbs kicking all around me, twisting me and holding me down in the frothy water.

"Henry jumped in, joining the struggle, but at first he was little help. We tumbled from the turmoil between two elephants straight towards another that swam behind them in the crossing of that great river. Henry tried to move me, pull my body out of the way, but I was flailing, sodden driftwood in his grasp. He couldn't twist me, wrench me out of the way of the great head that came toward us, tusks bobbing through the choppy water. All Henry's effort and might saved my head to my hips, but he could not prevent the spear of ivory from gouging my leg.

"My scream was lost underwater, and the river rushed into my mouth.

"They tell me it was many minutes later, but I only remember being on my back, on the hard earth of the bank, the next moment, having the life squeezed into me. There was laughing. I heard it faintly across the water."

The narrative broke off, and he was silent for a moment.

"Rajeev wasn't laughing. He stopped even before he saw that I was injured.

"He pulled a boat out of the reeds at the riverbank. Our things were already in it. When the elephant man tried to climb in with him, to retrieve his animals, Rajeev shoved him backwards, toppling the man over. He came to us and took me to a trustworthy doctor." He looked into the corner again. "He hasn't left me since." My grandfather's voice had a soft note of respect.

"Dad!" My mother's voice came suddenly from the doorway. "What kind of story are you telling those children?"

"A true one," he replied.

"And what message do you think it's going to send them?"

I could hear a laugh in my grandfather's voice as he answered, "It's important to know how to swim!"