Mr. Munchausen 

  VIII

  AN ADVENTURE IN THE DESERT

  "The editor has a sort of notion, Mr. Munchausen," said Ananias, as hesettled down in the big arm-chair before the fire in the Baron'slibrary, "that he'd like to have a story about a giraffe. Public tastehas a necky quality about it of late."

  "What do you say to that, Sapphira?" asked the Baron, politely turningto Mrs. Ananias, who had called with her husband. "Are you interestedin giraffes?"

  "I like lions better," said Sapphira. "They roar louder and bite morefiercely."

  "Well, suppose we compromise," said the Baron, "and have a story abouta poodle dog. Poodle dogs sometimes look like lions, and as a rulethey are as gentle as giraffes."

  "I know a better scheme than that," put in Ananias. "Tell us a storyabout a lion and a giraffe, and if you feel disposed throw in a fewpoodles for good measure. I'm writing on space this year."

  "That's so," said Sapphira, wearily. "I could say it was a story abouta lion and Ananias could call it a giraffe story, and we'd each beright."

  "Very well," said the Baron, "it shall be a story of each, only I musthave a cigar before I begin. Cigars help me to think, and theadventure I had in the Desert of Sahara with a lion, a giraffe, and aslippery elm tree was so long ago that I shall have to do a great dealof thinking in order to recall it."

  So the Baron went for a cigar, while Ananias and Sapphira winkedenviously at each other and lamented their lost glory. In a minute theBaron returned with the weed, and after lighting it, began his story.

  "I was about twenty years old when this thing happened to me," saidhe. "I had gone to Africa to investigate the sand in the Desert ofSahara for a Sand Company in America. As you may already have heard,sand is a very useful thing in a great many ways, more particularlyhowever in the building trades. The Sand Company was formed for thepurpose of supplying sand to everybody that wanted it, but land inAmerica at that time was so very expensive that there was very littleprofit in the business. People who owned sand banks and sand lotsasked outrageous prices for their property; and the sea-shore peoplewere not willing to part with any of theirs because they needed it intheir hotel business. The great attraction of a seaside hotel is thesand on the beach, and of course the proprietors weren't going to sellthat. They might better even sell their brass bands. So the SandCompany thought it might be well to build some steam-ships, load themwith oysters, or mowing machines, or historical novels, or anythingelse that is produced in the United States, and in demand elsewhere;send them to Egypt, sell the oysters, or mowing machines, orhistorical novels, and then have the ships fill up with sand from theSahara, which they could get for nothing, and bring it back in ballastto the United States."

  "It must have cost a lot!" said Ananias.

  "Not at all," returned the Baron. "The profits on the oysters andmowing machines and historical novels were so large that all expensesboth ways were more than paid, so that when it was delivered inAmerica the sand had really cost less than nothing. We could havethrown it all overboard and still have a profit left. It was I whosuggested the idea to the President of the Sand Company--his name wasBartlett, or--ah--Mulligan--or some similar well-known American name,I can't exactly recall it now. However, Mr. Bartlett, or Mr. Mulligan,or whoever it was, was very much pleased with the idea and asked me ifI wouldn't go to the Sahara, investigate the quality of the sand, andreport; and as I was temporarily out of employment I accepted thecommission. Six weeks later I arrived in Cairo and set out immediatelyon a tour of the desert. I went alone because I preferred not to takeany one into my confidence, and besides one can always be moreindependent when he has only his own wishes to consult. I also went onfoot, for the reason that camels need a great deal of care--at leastmine would have, if I'd had one, because I always like to have mysteeds well groomed whether there is any one to see them or not. So tosave myself trouble I started off alone on foot. In twenty-four hoursI travelled over a hundred miles of the desert, and the night of thesecond day found me resting in the shade of a slippery elm tree in themiddle of an oasis, which after much suffering and anxiety I haddiscovered. It was a beautiful moonlight night and I was enjoying ithugely. There were no mosquitoes or insects of any kind to interferewith my comfort. No insects could have flown so far across the sands.I have no doubt that many of them have tried to get there, but up tothe time of my arrival none had succeeded, and I felt as happy asthough I were in Paradise.

  "After eating my supper and taking a draught of the delicious springwater that purled up in the middle of the oasis, I threw myself downunder the elm tree, and began to play my violin, without which inthose days I never went anywhere."

  "I didn't know you played the violin," said Sapphira. "I thought yourinstrument was the trombone--plenty of blow and a mighty stretch."

  "I don't--now," said the Baron, ignoring the sarcasm. "I gave it upten years ago--but that's a different story. How long I played thatnight I don't know, but I do know that lulled by the delicious strainsof the music and soothed by the soft sweetness of the atmosphere Isoon dropped off to sleep. Suddenly I was awakened by what I thoughtto be the distant roar of thunder. 'Humph!' I said to myself. 'This issomething new. A thunder storm in the Desert of Sahara is a thing Inever expected to see, particularly on a beautifully clear moonlightnight'--for the moon was still shining like a great silver ball in theheavens, and not a cloud was anywhere to be seen. Then it occurred tome that perhaps I had been dreaming, so I turned over to go to sleepagain. Hardly had I closed my eyes when a second ear-splitting roarcame bounding over the sands, and I knew that it was no dream, but anactual sound that I heard. I sprang to my feet and looked about thehorizon and there, a mere speck in the distance, was something--forthe moment I thought a cloud, but in another instant I changed mymind, for glancing through my telescope I perceived it was not a cloudbut a huge lion with the glitter of hunger in his eye. What I hadmistaken for the thunder was the roar of this savage beast. I seizedmy gun and felt for my cartridge box only to discover that I had lostmy ammunition and was there alone, unarmed, in the great desert, atthe mercy of that savage creature, who was drawing nearer and nearerevery minute and giving forth the most fearful roars you ever heard.It was a terrible moment and I was in despair.

  "'It's all up with you, Baron,' I said to myself, and then I caughtsight of the tree. It seemed my only chance. I must climb that. Itried, but alas! As I have told you it was a slippery elm tree, and Imight as well have tried to climb a greased pole. Despite my franticefforts to get a grip upon the trunk I could not climb more than twofeet without slipping back. It was impossible. Nothing was left for meto do but to take to my legs, and I took to them as well as I knewhow. My, what a run it was, and how hopeless. The beast was gaining onme every second, and before me lay mile after mile of desert. 'Bettergive up and treat the beast to a breakfast, Baron,' I moaned tomyself. 'When there's only one thing to do, you might as well do itand be done with it. Your misery will be over the more quickly if youstop right here.' As I spoke these words, I slowed up a little, butthe frightful roaring of the lion unnerved me for an instant, orrather nerved me on to a spurt, which left the lion slightly more tothe rear--and which resulted in the saving of my life; for as I ranon, what should I see about a mile ahead but another slippery elmtree, and under it stood a giraffe who had apparently fallen asleepwhile browsing among its upper branches, and filling its stomach withits cooling cocoanuts. The giraffe had its back to me, and as I spedon I formed my plan. I would grab hold of the giraffe's tail; haulmyself up onto his back; climb up his neck into the tree, and thengive my benefactor a blow between the eyes which would send him flyingacross the desert before the lion could come along and get up into thetree the same way I did. The agony of fear I went through as Iapproached the long-necked creature was something dreadful. Supposethe giraffe should be awakened by the roaring of the lion before I gotthere and should rush off himself to escape the fate that awaited me?I nearly dropped, I was so nervous, and the lion was now not more thana hundred yards away. I c
ould hear his breath as he came panting on. Iredoubled my speed; his pants came closer, closer, until at lengthafter what seemed a year, I reached the giraffe, caught his tail,raised myself up to his back, crawled along his neck and droppedfainting into the tree just as the lion sprang upon the giraffe's backand came on toward me. What happened then I don't know, for as I havetold you I swooned away; but I do know that when I came to, thegiraffe had disappeared and the lion lay at the foot of the tree deadfrom a broken neck."

  "A broken neck?" demanded Sapphira.

  "Yes," returned the Baron. "A broken neck! From which I concluded thatas the lion reached the nape of the giraffe's neck, the giraffe hadwaked up and bent his head toward the earth, thus causing the lion tofall head first to the ground instead of landing as he had expected inthe tree with me."

  "It was wonderful," said Sapphira, scornfully.

  "Yes," said Ananias, "but I shouldn't think a lion could break hisneck falling off a giraffe. Perhaps it was one of the slippery elmcocoanuts that fell on him."

  "Well, of course," said the Baron, rising, "that would all depend uponthe height of the giraffe. Mine was the tallest one I ever saw."

  "About how tall?" asked Ananias.

  "Well," returned the Baron, thoughtfully, as if calculating, "did youever see the Eiffel Tower?"

  "Yes," said Ananias.

  "Well," observed the Baron, "I don't think my giraffe was more thanhalf as tall as that."

  With which estimate the Baron bowed his guests out of the room, andwith a placid smile on his face, shook hands with himself.

  "Mr. and Mrs. Ananias are charming people," he chuckled, "but amateursboth--deadly amateurs."

  "I reached the giraffe, raised myself to his back, crawledalong his neck and dropped fainting into the tree." _Chapter VIII._]