The Veddas
by Daniel Emmerson
(continued)
An apparent formation occurred just after the leech incident. The Shaman’s son marched up front, cutting down rogue branches and scouting the land for snakes. The largest Vedda, a chubby tribesman with a huge beard and sagging nipples, followed behind him. I was next, and the small boy followed with his father, a thin, brutish fellow with long black straggly hair. Each tribesmen wore a dress constructed of bark, leaves and very little else against their naturally bronze skin. We moved hastily through furrows of long grass and reached an area of thick jungle where the Shaman’s son signalled for us to be very quiet. My camera continued to whir.
Before the night sky closed in, we located a wooden shelter. My feet were cut and raw, my leg hair mangled in a sloppy glooped mixture and I understood none of the dialogue that surrounded me. The Veddas spoke in whisper, pointing and gesturing at the dazzling stars above our heads. The brutish fellow joked with me and his son, playing games with his hands, something like pat-a-cake-pat-a-cake. His palms slapped together rhythmically and I began to doze. The panoply of stars overhead was nothing short of exquisite and I felt guilty for being so tired. It wasn’t long before I drifted into a deep and soothing sleep.
Thud. Thud. Thud. My eyes opened. Thud. Wail. Thud. The wooden shelter was moving. Thud. Wail. Thud. It was still dark. Thud. I was alone. Thud. Wail. Thud. I sifted around the floor of the shelter and found my camera; I stuffed it quickly into my bag. Thud. Thud. Thud. Before I knew what was happening, the brutish Vedda stormed into the shelter. He grabbed me by the arm in a tenacious grip, dragged me towards the entrance and pulled. The moment my bare, blooded feet touched the ground, the apparent source of the thudding became clear. A huge wild elephant was walking in our direction at some speed.
I froze, stricken with panic before being flung at full strength by the Vedda, his eyes remained calm but I could make out beads of sweat upon his brow in the moonlight. We began to move. I was hurled through the air with the Vedda in front of me, pulling as though I weighed little more than a helium balloon. My feet snagged and cracked against the ground. Thud. Thud. Thud. The elephant was not far behind us. Wail. The Vedda turned his head towards me, he flung his right arm forward and pushed me, pointing straight ahead. Wail. His son was still back at the shelter.
I had to make a decision and I had no more than a few split seconds to do so. Either I turn back with the Vedda and help him, or I run in the direction in which he pointed. The elephant stopped still and I caught sight of the chubby tribesman in the distance. I made my decision and ran towards him, leaving the brutish Vedda in almost certain peril, for he was now long gone in the direction from which we had come. As I ran, gashed left foot over right, I thought about how cowardly I was. I could have helped couldn’t I? Despite their being a linguistic communication barrier and me being in the state I was in, I could have surely done something… so why did I continue to run in the opposite direction? It took me no more than a few minutes to catch up with the rest of the tribe, there was no turning back. I felt bruised, battered and broken, a useless pseudo member of the collective.
“I’m sorry” was all I could mutter to the Vedda who caught me as I tumbled towards the soil below.