literature

Man and Girl

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The white man was worried when he realised a little local girl was walking alongside him.  A wild animal might eat her or, even worse (no, he admonished himself, not worse), she might scare all the animals away.  Then what about the savages?  They might have been missing her.  Perhaps, he thought, they would think he had kidnapped her.  How did these people punish kidnappers?  By burning at the stake, probably, while some of them dance a heathen dance around him.

'I say,' he said to the girl, knowing she would not understand him.  'Clear off, can't you?'

'What are you doing?' she asked.

'Good heavens!  You speak English!'

'I speak many languages.'

'Well, you stick with English, young lady.  Try and teach it to your people.'

'There are many things I'd like to teach people,' said the girl.  'But they're hard to reach.'

'Your people are savages, certainly.'  He gave her an encouraging smile.  'But they can be reached.  They are people, after all.  How are you getting with those bibles?'

'You haven't answered my question yet, sir.'

'Hmm?  Oh, what am I doing, you mean.  Well, I'm after some animals for the King of England to give to the King of France.'

'Oh no!' said the girl, though she did not sound surprised.

'Mostly alive,' the man went on.  'Maybe a few tusks and skins and things.  Watch me kill an elephant, if you like.  They're the least dangerous.'

'Pretty dangerous if they trample you.'

'That is why we must be very quiet.'

'This Bible of yours,' the girl said.  'When your god said that people were to rule over the animals of the land and the fish of the seas...'

'Quiet now,' the man whispered.  'There's the fellow.'

'Oh, sir!' said the girl.  'That's just a baby and its mother!'

'Yes.  Baby's not much good.  No tusks, see?'

'So you'd leave it motherless?'

'Don't see why not,' said the man, and he levelled his rifle on the mother elephant.  When he pulled the trigger, nothing happened.

'Hmm.'  He peered down the barrel.  'Never done that before.'

'Maybe this god of yours doesn't want you to orphan that baby,' said the girl.  'Or some other god.'

'No other god, m'dear,' the man said, still puzzling over his rifle.  'Well, let's try another.'

'Do you really think,' the girl said, as they walked on, 'whoever created these creatures...'

'God created them.'

'Well, do you really think he or she -'

'He!  Good heavens, child!'

'- really meant you to hunt them, for rich men to give each other as gifts?  What do these kings have to prove, anyway?'  She giggled.  'Did Mother Nature not bless your king with fine attributes for a man?'

'Humph!' said the man.  'My king is every inch a man, and a big cat or two will prove it!  How old are you, anyway?'

'You can't tell my age by looking at me,' said the girl.  'And it's a ridiculous system if you ask me.'

'You don't need to worry about it.  Just you lot concentrate on living like respectable poor people.'

'Your class system is horrible.  All your systems are!'

'Oh ho?'  He looked at her sharply.  'And yours is better, is it?'

'My system,' said the girl, 'is the system of nature.'

'Well now,' said the man, with a note of triumph in his voice.  'Nature isn't so wonderful, you know.'

The girl stopped walking.  He stopped too, though he couldn't say why.  When he turned to look at her, she seemed very much affronted.

'How can you say so?' she asked.

'Well,' said the man, 'cruel things happen in these exotic places, like insects laying their eggs in chaps' eyes, and animals being eaten alive and such.  Not a bit like England.  If you don't approve of me, miss, I don't mind telling you that a fellow with a rifle and a few poisoned darts is the least of these creatures' worries.  Humph!'

'Well,' said the girl, looking sulky, 'those elephants don't have much else to worry about.'

'You're right there,' said the man.  'Blessed creatures, those.  That's why they need only have one child at a time.  Not much risk of losing it.  But other animals... well, take this, for instance.'  He reached into his pocket and pulled out the shell of a tiny sea turtle.

'Oh, you're awful!' said the girl.  'That comes from a baby!'

'One of a great many babies in its batch,' said the man.  'The mother lays her eggs on the beach, and there they hatch, and not half the little devils survive the walk down to the sea.  If I hadn't got this one, something else would have, sooner or later.  Does that sound like a good system to you?'

Her sulky look deepened.  'I'd like to see you do better.'

'Yes, well,' said the man, 'not that I'm criticising.  Not at all.  Sure He had His reasons, just as He does for all the other rotten things that happen.  When a child dies, it's to be with Him, you know.'

'Including that turtle?'

'Of course not.  Don't be absurd.  Ah, there look – the bull elephant!  With a female.  Hmm.  Perhaps I'd better wait until he's finished.'

'You would want to kill him,' the girl said.  'The bigger the better, yes?'

'Absolutely.  Well, if you're going to be all day about it...'  He raised his rifle.  'Sorry, old fellow!'

The man took aim.  Then, as he fired, he began to choke in a haze of smoke and powder.

'Good heavens!' he said.  'Never blown anything out of that end before!'

The girl, meanwhile, walked off with the baby turtle shell in her hand.  When she had left the man far behind, she raised the shell to her lips and blew on it.  Out of it popped a tiny head and tail, and four flippers.

'There's no life here for you, little one,' she whispered, no longer speaking English.  'But you can stay with me.'
FFM day 30.

A tough challenge today: fantistorical, with elements of satire, including four elephants and a turtle. Hopefully all of that is self-evident, and anyway it'll have to do. (Not sounding too enthusiastic at this stage, am I?)

Word count: 1,000 (including dashes)
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