ill ask, if I have never been the companion of man, by what
means have I obtained that superior intelligence and knowledge of his
arts, for which our tribe are pleased to give me credit? I answer,
simply by keeping my _eyes_ and my _ears_ open, and by remembering what
I have _seen_ and _heard_. Follow my example, my dear children, and if
you ever arrive at my age, you will no longer wonder at the extent of
my information.
Now let me endeavour to remember some of the most remarkable incidents
of my life. I have but a confused recollection of my very early
childhood, or of anything that happened before my thirteenth year, but
about that time I well remember I was in terrible distress at the loss
of my first tusks, and that my mother could hardly make me believe that
they would ever be replaced by others. But when these long-looked-for
second tusks really made their appearance, and had reached about the
length of my present miserable stump, I used to plague all my
acquaintance, by asking them whether they thought my tusks had grown
lately, or whether they would ever be as large and strong as our
leader's. At last I met with a cutting reproof from a surly old fellow,
who had often been pestered by me in this manner.
"You impertinent young scamp," said he, "what do I care about your
tusks, or whether they grow or not? One thing I know, and will tell you
for your comfort. If, when you grow up, your head should be as
deficient in _ivory_ as it is in _sense_, you need have no fear
whatever of the hunters, for I am sure you would not repay them for
the trouble of killing you."
This was very severe; but I must tell you that the old brute was
particularly cross on this occasion, for the day before he had been
terribly disappointed by not being chosen leader of the herd, and he
had found out, as I was afterwards informed, that he had lost his
election by the influence of my mother and some others of our family.
Well, my children, if I was once proud of my tusks, I have no cause for
such foolish vanity now with this hideous stump, though the other is
still nearly half as long again as any in the herd.
I will now relate to you how I first became acquainted with that
contemptible little animal, who has the vanity to call himself "the
lord of the creation." I think it was in my twentieth year, just at the
end of the rainy season, that our herd had approached within less than
fifty miles of the Dutch settlement, for the purpos
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