Henderson the Rain King - Saul Bellow [21]
mist, like smoke, formed under the trees, which were short and brittle, like aloes or junipers (but then I'm no botanist) and Romilayu, who came behind me through the strangeness of his shadow, made me think of a long wooden baker's shovel darting into the oven. The place was certainly at baking heat. Finally one morning we found ourselves in the bed of a good-sized river, the Arnewi, and we walked downstream in it, for it was dry. The mud had turned to clay, and the boulders sat like lumps of gold in the dusty glitter. Then we sighted the Arnewi village and saw the circular roofs which rose to a point. I knew they were just thatch and must be brittle, porous, and light; they seemed like feathers, and yet heavy--like heavy feathers. From these coverings smoke went up into the silent radiance. Also an inanimate glitter came off the ancient thatch. "Romilayu," I said, stopping him, "isn't that a picture? Where are we? How old is this place, anyway?" Surprised at my question he said, "I no know, sah." "I have a funny feeling from it. Hell, it looks like the original place. It must be older than the city of Ur." Even the dust had a flavor of great age, I thought, and I said, "I have a hunch this spot is going to be very good for me." The Arnewi were cattle raisers. We startled some of the skinny animals on the banks, and they started to buck and gallop, and soon we found ourselves amid a band of African kids, naked boys and girls, yelling at the sight of us. Even the tiniest of them, with the big bellies, wrinkled their faces and screeched with the rest, above the bellowing of the cattle, and flocks of birds who had been sitting in trees took off through the withered leaves. Before I saw them it sounded like stones pelting at us and I thought we were under attack. Under the mistaken impression that we were being stoned, I laughed and swore. It amused me that they might be shying rocks at me, and I said, "Jesus, is this the way they meet travelers?" But then I saw the birds beating it through the sky. Romilayu explained to me that the Arnewi were very sensitive to the condition of their cattle, whom they regarded as their relatives, more or less, and not as domestic animals. No beef was eaten here. And instead of one kid being sent out with the herd, each cow had two or three child companions; and when the animals were upset, the children ran after them to soothe them. The adults were even more peculiarly attached to their beasts, which it took me some time to understand. But at the time I remember wishing that I had brought some treats for the children. When fighting in Italy I always carried Hershey bars and peanuts from the PX for the bambini. So now, coming down the river bed and approaching the wall of the town, which was made of thorns with some manure and reinforced by mud, we saw some of the kids waiting up for us, the rest having gone on to spread the news of our arrival. "Aren't they something?" I said to Romilayu. "Christ, look at the little pots on them, and those tight curls. Most of them haven't got their second teeth in yet." They jumped up and down, screaming, and I said, "I certainly wish I had a treat for them, but I haven't got anything. How do you think they'd like it if I set fire to a bush with this lighter?" And without waiting for Romilayu's advice I took out the Austrian lighter with the drooping wick, spun the tiny wheel with my thumb, and immediately a bush went flaming, almost invisible in the strong sunlight. It roared; it made a brilliant manifestation; it stretched to its limits and became extinct in the sand. I was left holding the lighter with the wick coming out of my fist like a slender white whisker. The kids were unanimously silent, they only looked, and I looked at them. That's what they call reality's dark dream? Then suddenly everyone scattered again, and the cows galloped. The embers of the bush had fallen by my boots. "How do you think that went over?" I asked Romilayu. "I meant well." But before we could discuss the matter we were met by a party of naked people. In front of them all