Henderson the Rain King - Saul Bellow [149]
and the pulley started to scream. The lion was incompletely caught, and the king was going to try to work the net over the animal's hindquarters. I called to him, "King, think it over once. You can't do it. He weighs half a ton, and he's got a solid grip on the net." I didn't realize that only the king could remedy the situation and no one could come between him and the lion, as the lion might be the late King Gmilo. Thus it was entirely up to the king to complete the capture. The pummeling of the drums and the bugling and stone-throwing had stopped, and from the crowd there was only a shout now and then heard when the lion was not roaring. Individual voices were commenting to the king on the situation, which was a bad one. I stood up saying, "King, I'll go down and look at his ear, just tell me what to look for. Hold it, King, hold." But I doubt whether he heard me. His legs were wide apart in the center of the pole, which bowed deeply and swung and swayed under the energetic movement of his legs, and the rope and pulley and the block made cries as if resined, and the stone weights clattered on the planks. The lion fought on his back and the whole construction swayed. Again I thought the entire hopo tower would collapse and I gripped the straw behind me. Then I saw some smoke or dust above the king and realized that this came from the fastenings of hide that held the block of the pulley to the wood. The king's weight and the pull of the lion had been too much for these fastenings. One had torn, that was the puff I saw. And now the other went. "King Dahfu!" I yelled out. He was falling. Block and pulley smashed down on the stone before the fleeing beaters. The king had fallen onto the lion. I saw the convulsion of the animal's hindquarters. The claws tore. Instantly there came blood, before the king could throw himself over. I now hung from the edge of the platform by my fingers, hung and then fell, shouting as I went. I wish this had been the eternal pit. The king had rolled himself from the lion. I pulled him farther away. Through the torn clothing his blood sprang out. "Oh, King! My friend!" I covered up my face. The king said, "Wo, Sungo." The surfaces of his eyes were strange. They had thickened. I took off my green trousers to tie up the wound. These were all I had to hand, and they did no good but were instantly soaked. "Help him! Help!" I said to the crowd. "I did not make it, Henderson," the king said to me. "Why, King, what are you talking about? We'll carry you back to the palace. We'll put some sulfa powder into this and stitch you up. You'll tell me what to do, Your Majesty, being the doctor of us two." "No, no, they will never take me back. Is it Gmilo?" I ran and caught the rope and pulley and threw the wooden block like a bolo at the still thrusting legs; I wound the rope around them a dozen times, almost tearing the skin from them and yelling, "You devil! Curse you, you son of a bitch!" He raged back through the net. The Bunam then came and looked at the ears. He reached back and called authoritatively for something. His man in the dirty white paint handed him a musket and he put the muzzle against the lion's temple. When he fired the explosion tore part of the creature's head away. "It was not Gmilo," the king said. He was glad his blood would not be on his father's head. "Henderson," he said, "you will see no harm comes to Atti." "Hell, Your Highness, you're still king, you'll take care of her yourself." I began to cry. "No, no, Henderson," he said. "I cannot be � among the wives. I would have to be killed." He was moved over these women. Some of them he must have loved. His belly through the torn clothing looked like a grate of fire and some of the beaters were already giving death shrieks. The Bunam stood apart, he kept away from us. "Bend close," said Dahfu. I squatted near his head and turned my good ear toward him, the tears meanwhile running between my fingers, and I said, "Oh, King, King, I am a bad-luck type. I am a jinx, and death hangs around me. The world has sent you just the wrong fellow.