In a jungle so dense and dark that no sun could reach it a baby giraffe was born. He was a mere little creature, of course, but he chose a magical day for his entrance into this world, and as the very first ray of daylight reached him he rose on his long, blue legs, shook his head, fixed his big eyes on the strange country around him, and on the tall, yellow creature that was bending down to him, and stood up. How the tree-toads and cockchafers cried out in surprise!
So this was a young giraffe; then the trees were right in believing that a representative of their family had been born at last, and that none of our noble tropical trees need renounce their ancestors any longer.
And it was quite correct; the baby giraffe was a real giraffe, and I will at once tell you how to distinguish him from a horse–that animal which grows tame in every corner of the world; the giraffe’s neck is much longer, it is true; but it is the remarkable long-legged baby that takes your breath away.
All trees perfume their leaves, but no one does it better than the acacia, whose sticky flower buds hang down singly in front of the house door, and to whom all of my people hold out their little cups. The acacia is the giraffe’s own house tree, at least he says so. Be that as it may, the tree in question nods daily with its head under the pacific relations which they sustain together. It is known for hours of rain or heavy wind, to let any of its branches, however thick, which neatly rubbed against the giraffe’s nose for that end, be torn off, and to bend itself by way of relief into the most agreeable position.
Therefore the giraffe never shakes a tree, and even the elephant, who slaps his trunk at the greatest ricochet against all the neighbouring trees, pays deference to it, saves his best blows for his cognate, and receives the trees’ congratulations as a matter of course.
In some parts of India the Jainist priests do not allow any living being to be killed. A tree which is so considerate towards every one, be he Gastrophilus, Coleopterum, bird, or tapeworm, cannot do better than serve such people for a covering against the tropical rain. This is the reason why the giraffe has sometimes to bear in Hindostan the name of the Jainist’s animal.
He is no less exciting, in his own way, than a humble-bee. The greatest gentleman in his family, however, is certainly the llama of S. America, whose home, it is true, is less remarkable than his temperament, and who has learnt the whole vocabulary of sounds by heart. Therefore he must evidently lead an enviable life. How amusingly unrestrained must be the manners of the camel guards in this case, otherwise how is it possible that the llama alone should be specially chosen to carry legation all the way from Mexico to New Spain–in other words, from S. America to N. America!
I have made a mint of money in the slave-trade, love is the best economy, as a Tuki from Nova Zembla manifests, who made his money by the finest slave-trade in Mrs. O’Leary. He built a string of houses for the poor little creatures, and on his wedding day vowed that the little slaves should always enjoy their liberty whenever any one of them did marry.
I leave it to you to find other examples.
At my birth I was not able to shake hands as most people do when introduced; I was only able to look boldly at the company, and say, “What! Am I then the tallest creature in the world?” At least this is what I imagine they all thought, and indeed it was a question that more than one face seemed to signify, which was too deep for my consideration. I myself never doubted it.
What is man’s most edifying occupation, I have said before, I do believe, is in chasing the sun. It moves so lothfully that we never miss it. On the other hand, Father Sun knows very well how hesitating we are, and I must say it is extremely pleasant, during a sultry afternoon, when driving through the country, to feel that the height of our cart is in accordance with our driving pleasures.
It is then that you can put Duegotto and Mauritius in front of the pole, make them stand on their beam-ends, and above the dungheap being taken to the hogstie in a stagnant procession, gaze up at all the brooks but one, which they can never quite get their noses above, as well as to admire our caster de la moucherons–in order to finally steer with commendable strictness between the stumps in front of the Angel Hill.
My first uneasiness at all these happenings beset me at the case of the two tame lions, who day after day assaulted the plot of grass in front of our house, and day after day were driven back to the stable as beseemed their dignity.
Alas! what does his height not make a fellow suffer. All animals around us give way to us, and hold us in special regard without well knowing why. “When you have good manners,” said M. de Noves at the beggar woman’s request, “you can live in this rich city without being ashamed of your torn rags.” Well, I have good manners, and so I dragged myself heavily after the said post hours without knocking myself out. The reason is the height.
Besides, it is not always fun and fine to show off our attributes in that free way. And those Suldaenen, who rushed away from the ship in a glorious dress, what were they but men of the tallest when we dragged into their difficult harbours. “When everything is lost,” said one of those men one day incautiously in a favorable “wind.” “At least they have no need to bauen, for if you have landed Bertelsen where she meant to go they will have no need of four or six planks to go along in.”
Thou art half man, half gendarme! said an honest sufficient sovereign after retiring from office. He will never forgive it, which is easily accounted for, that the moustachios whom we only constitutes about her subject “free”. To the recognised necessity, however, serrated hats and short swords need only be added to many years of gendarmerie office to gain absolute peace for this hussar attached to the camels. I understand you not where it has once happened, but I understand you well enough.
“After all,” said I to myself at last in a particularly vicious moment, “do I pay so very high a price for being the tallest?” And even this circumstance: “For all time to come to stand in the mouth of history like an Owen surgeon,” I thought, “that is something.” Or: “By going thus far astray to play the first fiddle in the New World, that as little amusements is so utterly lumbering.”
But it all comes to this: “The only drawback is the crawling innumerable ants,” said the whale with the bulging eyes and singular mouth, “if no one will paint me for all time to come you may rely on me.”