NABU’S FIRST LESSON

Timaru Herald, Volume CXLV, Issue 21216, 10 December 1938, Page 6 (Supplement)

NABU’S FIRST LESSON

Nabu felt a great longing to sleep in the blue shade of the forest, to frolic and swing in the branches among his fellow-monkeys. He was becoming dissatisfied with being led about on a string with playing to amuse the Rajah’s children, and he longed to escape. It had been so since Teeza, the little forest monkey, had come into the gardens one night, intent upon stealing, and as she had passed, made fun of Nabu, huddled on the floor of his cage, and had thrown dirt at him. But when Nabu had looked at her with his solemn, human old eyes, she had suddenly started to cry, then had shaken the bars in a fury, before she scuttled off into the night.

If it hadn’t been for Teeza, Nabu might never have bothered to escape when the chance offered, never thought more of the forest, and gone on taking his life in captivity for granted. But Nabu did escape—by the easy method of testing his monkey strength against the feeble lock of his cage door. The forest was silent in the hot morning sunshine. Tara, the black snake, stirred in the long grass and peered at a strange figure advancing his way. It was a hot, hurrying old-man monkey. Now Tara loved monkey for dinner, and this seemed easy prey. As the monkey neared her, the snake rose up and hissed fiercely, ready to strike. Instead of screaming and turning to run, Nabu (for it was he) picked up a branch, and started to attack Tara with it, chuckling and clucking as he sprang to avoid the powerful blows of the snake’s tail, beating the great writhing body at every opportunity until there was no breath left in Tara’s body, and she lay as dead. For Nabu, born in captivity, and

bred among humans, knew human habits, and had never learnt the first 'lesson, called Fear, that monkey mothers tell their children. Suddenly as Nabu was . triumphantly regarding the body, there was a great clatter and shouting among the tree-tops, and, looking up, Nabu saw many little wizened faces like his own staring at him. The monkeys of the tree-tops had seen the victory, and applauded. A great baboon descended and addressed Nabu in monkey language. Nabu, the fearless, was offered the leadership of the monkeys, and ascended to the tree-tops with his brethren. But this is not by any means the end of the story of Nabu, for Tara, the black snake, had not been killed by the blows from Nabu’s stick, and when he recovered he slunk off, vowing vengeance. For nearly a moon now Nabu had led the monkey pack. He was different in every way from his fellows. Where they were bright-eyed, thoughtless, gossipy, Nabu was solemn as an owl, always lost in thought. He had learnt to sit still in the long hours of captivity ind how to use what little brain he was endowed with. To the others he seemed fast in flight and leadership, but it was because he was using his eyes when they lost their wits and ran in circles. But perhaps Nabu’s supremacy was mostly due to one thing. It was because he had never learned the lesson of fear. One still morning, Nabu and his pack were pelting a lumbering hippo with ripe nuts when they heard trumpeting in the distance. Nabu stopped and listened with his head on one side. He was sitting hunched up on a low branch, and slowly

there came before his eyes the vision of a rajah's garden, with the great grey elephants in their colourful harnesses, the screaming of peacocks, and the black-eyed children playing in the dust. He did not hear the monkeys scatter, did not see a wicked black head rise slowly from the grass and stretch up till its eyes fixed his own. Helpless, Nabu looked into the eyes of Tara the snake, and learnt his lesson of fear. And Tara, knowing it, and knowing that he was no longer a human monkey, swayed back and forth, fixing him with her beady, icy gaze, to prolong fear and death for Nabu.

If the two creatures had not been so absorbed they would have felt the approach of the great lumbering she-elephant as she came upon them. Tara was nearer, nearer, ready to strike, when the great forefoot of the elephant crushed her long black back. She shuddered in her stroke and fell limply.

.Nabu continued to stare, his senses dulled. his mind went back to what he had been thinking before, and he remembered the garden—the elephants. Suddenly the monkey was on a level with the elephant’s little blinking eyes. Jumping on a branch, he shouted and gesticulated as he had seen the riders doing. He had no doubt that the elephant would understand. And he did. With one loud trumpet, he had caught Nabu and swung him through the air on to his back.

Then they were off at an easy, quick swinging trot, the great beast trumpeting until the forest rang with the noise, and Nabu chattering excitedly, banging the great head with a leafy branch.

Strangely enough, the elephant was a tame one that had been missed from an elephant drive among the hills. Its keepers had not given chase, for they knew it would come back safely when it had satisfied the instincts that had made it set out alone.

The Rajah and his son were seated at breakfast when they heard a great commotion among the elephants. His Highness at last climbed to the top of his summerhouse to see what it could be about. He beheld a strange sight. All the stabled elephants were lined up trumpeting, and Koora, the runaway elephant, was galloping into the lines. With his son, he hastened down, just in time to see a wizened oldman monkey, waving a branch excitedly, slide to the ground from Koora’s back. The Rajah’s son gave a gurgle of surprised delight. He ran towards the animal and grabbed him. “Look father,” he cried to the Rajah. “It is the grey monkey, Nabu returned at last!” Bowing to Nabu he said. “Since you have returned, oh, intelligent one, in such a ceremonious manner, you shall have freedom in the garden of the Rajah, to roam at

will without a string about you!” So Nabu was free to wander where he chose, but though he could easily have sped back to the jungle playground, the inclination to do so had gone—gone and left him fear with the memory of a snake’s awful gaze. So Nabu stayed and at night he slept within his cage. But when Tecza, the little forest monkey, crept past, he turned his back, pretending to be asleep, and she gave him but one curious glance before she was gone, fearful of the very shadows.