The Travel Essay

We used to live close to the edge of the desert. When the rains came we were happy. The trees on the edge became green with leaves, the bushes were full and there were puddles of water everywhere. We could play almost anywhere. The dry river bed would overflow and many animals would come out of the woods to be close to the water. But now for many months the rains had failed. The trees were dry and there were no pools of water. The little water that flowed in the river was muddy. There were occasional birds in the evening.

My grandmother called us all together and announced that we would be starting on a journey to another part of the land where there was water. That was how we started on the long journey and arrived at the banks of this large river. We did not know that there were so many other animals that had also decided to do the same. On the journey we met our cousins with their grandmother. They were also going in our direction. So, for a while, we journeyed together, as a large herd of elephants. I met my cousin “Troubles” on this trip. He is about three years old, just a little younger than I am.

One night, while the others in the herd were tearing branches and stripping the barks in a nearby forest, we ambled over to a tawny bush near the river. We were pleasantly surprised to see two little leopard cubs hidden there. One was cuddling a bottle that she had found. The other looked at us in awe. He had never seen elephants before. Troubles and I looked at each other and thought about raising our trunks and blowing the trumpet. Then I remembered the thrashing I got from my mother for doing that in the dark the last time. We, elephants, tried to keep silent in the night so that predators such as lions would not be attracted to us. So we quietly slipped back into our herd as if nothing had happened. We were also frightened that if the mother leopard saw us, she would attack us and that would end up in another thrashing from my mother.

In the morning, Troubles’ grandmother decided that they would branch out and head off in another direction towards the river. My grandmother stuck to her initial plan. So we separated and trooped away in different directions. For a while Troubles stayed with me, playing and jostling. We found a hole in which there was soft mud which we threw at each other. Soon his mother came along and prodded him to join their group. She gave him a gentle thwack with her trunk and he ambled after her. I was now left alone and tried to keep pace with the rest of our group.

It was just after midday that we reached a dirt track. There were large jeeps with many people on board and when they saw us, they stopped. They pulled up by the track to watch us run over to the river bank. As I ran across, I slipped on the sand embankment. My aunt who was following behind lifted me over the road. I could smell the water as soon as I had got across. My uncle who is the biggest in our herd, meanwhile, approached one of the jeeps to see what was happening. He went very close, but the people in the jeep just kept looking at him. Soon he realised they meant no harm and he trudged along on his own to another part of the river.

I was astounded with what I saw when I reached the river. There were hundreds of cape buffalo, giraffes and baboons on the bank, and half-submerged in the river were a number of hippos and their babies. There were many of my cousins gathered there as well. They were in different groups with their grandmothers in charge.

As we formed a line and trooped to the water’s edge, some of the other herds started their journey back into the bush. They had arrived earlier and played in the water long enough. Now they were leaving to let us have our day on the river. We ran as fast as we could to the edge and sucked in large amounts of the sweet water into our trunks and then squirted it into our mouths. We stood as one, in a line along the bank, and drank together. Once we had our fill, we began to spray each other with water. In the nearby distance there was a large crocodile resting on the grass. We were always careful about crocodiles. My cousin, Shambles, was attacked by a crocodile when he was about three years old. The injury left a huge hole in his trunk and he has to drink in small gulps because he cannot hold water in his trunk. He is now five years old and has learnt to live with this handicap. But it is still painful to watch him do this everyday.

When we had had our fill, my grandmother went around and gathered us for the journey back into the bush. We protested and found some excuse to stay at the river bank and to play in the mud pool that had formed beneath a mopane tree. Shambles and I took turns to plunge into the pool and smother ourselves with the brown mud. We were told from an early age that the mud was good for our skin because it kept us cool. The others in the herd, especially my older brothers and cousins, also took turns in plunging into the mud. Soon, in exasperation, my grandmother blew her trumpet and forced us us to leave the river bank. We had to trudge for about four or five hours to get back into the woods where we could be safe during the night.

As we were leaving the bank on this particular day, we saw aunty Ella lying in the sand. I went over and tried to wake her. There were no sounds from her. Her eyelids were closed, and she was lying on her side. She could not move. I tried to raise her trunk but it was too heavy. My mother came over and tried to do the same. Soon all the others came round and tried to raise her. We knew that something was wrong. My grandmother then ambled across and gently caressed her. She then wished us away with her trunk. We knew we had to leave her: she had died. That was the first time I saw tears roll down my grandmother’s cheeks: she had lost one of her daughters. So, with one last look at the bank and my aunty, I joined the rest of the herd for the trek back into the forest.

Tomorrow we would be coming back and doing the same ritual, but I was already looking forward to another day of fun with Shambles.