The Honey Elephant Read online

  However, just as quickly as they had appeared, the peering animals were gone. They were replaced by a voice...

  “Clear off, I say! Away with you, you vermin!” The head of a springbok appeared above the edge of the hole followed by two more heads.

  The springbok spoke again; “sorry about that, man. Have you out of there in a jiffy. My name is Van-der-Poel. Me and my two mates here are a singing group, 'The Lente Veld'. Maybe you have heard of us? We're all brothers, well except for the youngest who is really my sister...Well, I say brother and sister but they are really goats. They do say springboks and goats are related. I don't believe it myself. Good voices but I am still the star.” The brother/sister/springbok/goats nodded in a weary-tired-of-hearing-this-again way.

  When the stork and the Sisters were safely out of the hole, Van-der-Poel explained they had asked a set of travelling badgers to construct a stage for them. In return they, 'The Lente Veld', would give the badgers honey and also sing for them.

  “Huh!” exclaimed Van-der-Poel, “turns out badgers only know how to dig down, not how to build upwards. Instead of a stage we got a pit!” He leaned closer to the Stork and whispered, “beware of the badgers, man. They ate all our honey and it turned them...” He paused and looked around before adding, “Wild! They've got the taste for it now...”

  The stork smiled politely and noticed that Sister Dor and the Sisters had disappeared. Suddenly, an unusual scent caught his nostrils. The springbok, Van-der-Poel, smiled and nodded toward a path that twisted through the trees.

  “You smell it, eh, man? Honey or to be more precise, Elephant Honey.”

  The stork thanked the springbok for his help and headed along the twisting path. Some minutes later he emerged into a small clearing.

  “Oh, I say, its the stork!” The voice belonged to the first tree monkey who, along with the second tree monkey was tied to a tree. “Help us out, will you?” they asked the stork. “Those crazy, wild badgers tied us to this tree when we refused to give them any honey. They tied up that pygmy elephant, over there, too. They think it’s a honey elephant.”

  “And that over there,” the second tree monkey nodded at a pile of stones, “according to the badgers, are honey elephant fossils...of some sort.”

  They stork untied the two tree monkeys and was about to do the same for the pygmy elephant when the clay and earth daubed badgers burst into the clearing and wrestled him to the ground.

  “Stop, stop!” shouted the first tree monkey. “He's a stork, not a honey elephant!”

  The badgers ignored the tree monkey and, holding the stork down, in one voice whispered; “You do know, don't you? Where the honey is and why things are the way they are?”

  “Oh do get away,” complained the stork as he struggled against the badgers.

  The tree monkeys hastily untied the pygmy elephant and directed it to spray the badgers with water.

  Suddenly drenched, the badgers scurried away out of the clearing. “You'll all end up as shaving brushes – cheap ones!” the second tree monkey called out.

  The two tree monkeys helped the stork to his feet and explained, “Honey turns the badgers into crazed things! In the beginning it made them howl and leap and spin and make horrid faces, which for a time was quite funny but now, as you can see, they're just...annoying!”

  The stork nodded and looked around. The clearing they stood in was small and surrounded by trees except for an outcrop of rock that reached up high toward the sky. He nodded at the outcrop of rock; “Is that, by any chance, the same high rocky outcrop where Reginald, Prince of Baboons has his hilltop palace?”

  The tree monkeys nodded. “High up-top somewhere and he has no idea what he is, quite literally, sitting on.” They motioned for the stork to follow them.

  At the base of the rocky outcrop, hidden behind some well-placed bushes, was a cave. The walls of the cave were lined with honeycomb. The tree monkeys explained they had followed the honey elephant for many nights, for that was the only time it showed itself, until they discovered the clearing and the honey elephant's lair. “At least that is what we thought... The honey elephant just seemed to disappear! We did discover a big hive in a tree out in the forest but that seemed to have been filled up. We thought perhaps the honey elephant had then started using this cave. But we have yet to see it here.”

  “Then the badgers arrived,” added the second tree monkey. “And at the same time the singing springbok-goats were passing through...”

  “Before we knew what was going on, the springbok-goats had fed the badgers honey... After that, the badgers wanted more and when we refused to let them into this honey cave, they found the tree hive.” The first tree monkey raised he eyes and shook his head, “the tree hive was already very heavy and with that many badgers in the tree...well… Of course it didn't help that the badgers had also been tunnelling under the tree! The hive and the tree crashed down and collapsed their tunnel!”

  “Have you noticed,” the second tree monkey interrupted; “there seem to be an awful lot of ellipses...”

  “It's the honey,” said the first tree monkey. “It does that...see!” They nodded knowingly to each-other.

  ~~~~~

  Another brief interlude

  A Honey Elephant mythic fact...

  Honey elephants are a rare and special thing and the subject of unwritten history...but as we already know that, here are some (unproven) facts...or myths or indeed mythic facts as they are usually termed...

  The first sighting of a honey elephant was in prehistoric times. However, as this was also a time when no-one understood just what history would become, it went unrecorded. But, sensing the importance of the sighting and having a yearning to try honey elephant honey; prehistoric people made up stories that incorporated the honey elephant and these were handed down mouth-to-mouth and resulted in not only the invention of kissing but the creation of several myths about the honey elephant. Two such being that honey elephant's were early Roman kings and had even ruled part of Egypt, as Bee Pharaohs in pre-dynastic times...

  end of another brief interlude

  ~~~~~

  Back in the clearing the stork asked, “But just what is the honey elephant? Does it actually live in that cave?”

  The second tree monkey shrugged; “We have no idea. We haven't been very far inside the cave to find out – it is quite dark...”

  “The honey elephant,” explained the first tree monkey, “never appears in daylight and all that can be seen at night, is a shadowy figure. It does give off a quiet humming-buzzing sort of noise and, of course, it leaves the scent of honey hanging in the air.”

  Just then Sister Dor and the Sisters of the Sacred Brethren entered the clearing. “The pipeline, as you like to call it,” Sister Dor announced, “is now clear. A tree and a rather large hive had fallen across it” She held a wing tip up to her ear, “listen...”

  The trees swayed and the leaves rustled and a gentle zephyr meandered in slow, circling arcs above the clearing. Sister Dora smiled, “now we must pay pilgrimage to the honey elephant.” She led the Sisters of the Sacred Brethren into the honey cave.

  The tree monkeys and stork watched as Sister Dor and the Sisters disappeared into the cave and for a moment the three stood unmoving and not speaking until... A sudden jolt of colour broke the silence.

  It was Dabbie-the-Arctic-Badger still dressed in her yellow hat and tatty overalls but now wearing a matching yellow jacket too. “Hey, Daddio,” she called out to the stork. “I finished the tunnelling. Hot air out, cold air in and cold air out, hot air in!”

  The stork groaned. He had hoped the Arctic Badgers had been a dream. At least the Jazz Brothers didn't seem to be with her. “We meet again, it seems,” he said. “I wonder, are you by any chance, looking for a tribe of wild badgers?”

  Dabbie-the-Arctic-Badger nodded and smiled, “sounds like my Sissy's clan.”

  From within the darkness of the forest came the muffled cries and shouts of someone getting a
cquainted, in a less than friendly manner, with the wild badgers. The cries and shouts gradually grew louder until...

  “Ellipses!” called out the first tree monkey.

  “Non sequitur!” called out the second tree monkey.

  “I'd quite like a nice simile,” mumbled the stork.

  For a moment everything stopped. The first tree monkey looked at the second tree monkey who looked at the stork who looked at Dabbie-the-Arctic-Badger... Eyes moved from left to right and right to left then back again.

  “Hold it!” said the stork. “Hasn't this been done already?”

  “Almost,” the tree monkeys nodded, “but it goes without saying, no one noticed the first time,”

  The stork shrugged and waited as their eyes moved from left to right and right to left then back again.

  Suddenly in a sonic explosion, the wild badgers burst into the clearing! They were carrying two creatures whose arms and legs or was it legs and legs or perhaps just limbs, had been tied to long poles. As this meant the captive creatures could no-longer walk, the wild badgers were carrying them with the poles slung across their shoulders. Now, as badgers are lacking in height (unless of course they stand upright) the tied-to-a-pole creatures were being dragged rather than carried in the normal sense.

  “Let me go!” The first tied-to-a-pole creature shouted. “I demand you release me! Do you know who I am?”

  The second tied-to-a-pole creature was just as vocal. “I too demand the same. But if you are going to cook and eat us, can we be roasted together at the same time please and served with a suitable sauce and condiments and some nice, clean linen tableware?”

  Spotting the stork, the first tied-to-a-pole creature sensed a chance of freedom. “You there, crane! Tell these weasels who I am!”

  The stork gave a little cough and cleared his throat. “Stork, actually and they are badgers not weasels. Same family though. Although these are, I'm told, rather wild badgers...probably in a family of their own I should think.”

  “Sis!” called out Dabbie-the-Arctic-Badger. “Sis, I'm here! Come on, I've made a lovely home for us.”

  “Never mind all that. Set me free!” demanded the first-tied-to-a-pole creature.

  “Oh very well,” said the stork. “I say, you badgers. Untie that creature. He is Reginald, Prince of Baboons.”

  The badgers dropped both poles. “No, he's the honey elephant,” they said.

  “Do I look like an elephant?” Complained Reginald.

  “You were making elephant noises,” said the second tied-to-a-pole creature.

  “That was wind!” said Reginald, a little embarrassed.

  “Oh by the way,” said the second tied-to-a-pole creature. “My name is Carmel-the-Camel. I am Reggie's partner.”

  Reginald, Prince of Baboons shook his head.

  “Romantic interest?” suggested Carmel-the-Camel.

  Reginald, Prince of Baboons shook his head again.

  “Special friend with benefits?”

  Another head shake.

  “Companion?”

  Reginald, Prince of Baboons shook his head from side to head.

  “If you are going to continue to shake your head then as soon as I am freed, I am returning home to my mother, Consuelo la hija de la llama de la Ribera in the foothills of old Castille!” complained Carmel-the-Camel.

  “No, no,” said Reginald, Prince of Baboons, “I have some honey on my nose and this pesky badger keeps trying to lick it off!”

  Eventually, the badgers set Reginald, Prince of Baboons and Carmel-the-Camel free and left with Dabbie-the-Arctic-Badger in a roughly southerly direction to become Arctic Badgers.

  Reginald and Carmel trudged back into the deepest, darkest part of the Lost Forest to resume their interrupted search for the lake the moon drank from on clear, cloudless nights. Reginald also wanted to trek down the honey elephant and demand rent arrears for the use of the cave at the base of the high rocky outcrop, atop which sat his hilltop palace. He decided the cave was now and always had been, his cellar.

  The stork looked around the clearing. For a moment he listened to the gentle rustling of the leaves and thought of the condors: the Sisters of the Sacred Brethren. He sighed, “craftsmanship.” Then pulled on a flying helmet and began climbing a tree.

  “What are you doing?” enquired the second tree monkey.

  The stork looked down. “I'm going to fly home. I need a long run up and this clearing is too small. If I launch myself from the top of a tree, I should be fine.”

  “This could be good,” said the first tree monkey.

  “Are you thinking a possible contender for next year's 'Do you look like you may have fallen from the sky' contest?”

  The first tree monkey nodded and they both smiled, “irony,” and watched as the stork climbed higher and higher until...

  “Argh!” The stork screamed and shot like a gazelle being chased by a cheetah with a very sharp knife and fork and a craving for a take-a-way, out of the tree and into the sky.

  “Unusual technique,” said the second tree monkey.

  “Seems to work, though,” added the first tree monkey. “Do you think we should be holding up score cards? Bit late, I suppose.”

  “Look,” said the second tree monkey, “there's else something moving in the tree.”

  “Its not moving any more, its falling out of the tree!” exclaimed the first tree monkey.

  “Oh no! It’s the space-invader-alligator-crocodile! Belly-flopping again!”

  “Wait...hold on,” said the first tree monkey. “Which way is that gentle zephyr blowing in from?”

  The second tree monkey licked his finger and held it up. He closed his eyes, nodded to himself and pointed over his shoulder.

  “And in roughly what direction is the oasis...probably?”

  The second tree monkey pointed over his shoulder again. They both nodded and smiled at the floundering, belly-flopped space-invader-alligator-crocodile, as it lay sprawled across the floor, teeth gnashing and snapping.

  “You, my belly-flopping friend, are nothing than a mirage blown here on a gentle zephyr!”

  “Yes,” added the first tree monkey. “A mirage; to be precise, a trans-migratory, fata morgana!” He smiled, quite pleased with himself.

  “A fat what?” asked the second tree monkey.

  “It's in the foot notes, look it up.”

  “Foot notes?” The second tree monkey scratched his head. “Oh, the foot notes!” He sat down and looked at the soles of his feet. The sole of his left foot read in small, neat writing;

  Trans-migratory, fata morgana:

  a mirage that has been projected using

  complex atmospheric conditions.

  He then looked at the sole of his right foot. Inscribed in large friendly letters it said;

  Don't Panic

  He smiled and called out to the mirage of the space-invader-alligator-crocodile; “You, are not real!” The mirage of the space-invader-alligator-crocodile tutted, groaned then shimmered and disappeared.

  “But,” pondered the first tree monkey. “If the space-invader-alligator-crocodile was a mirage, why did the stork scream?”

  Suddenly the head of a leopard poked out of the same tree the space-invader-alligator-crocodile mirage had fallen from. The leopard smiled and waggled a pointy claw in the air, “Hello boys!”

  The tree monkeys looked at each other. “Opa, the Spotless Leopard!”

  “Mmm...That’s me!” She grinned. “I thought I'd better come and find out who let my little Bobby eat Iboga root or was it too much honey? Poor thing thought he could fly.” Her voice changed into a lowering growl; “And, as we all know, Bob-the-Bald-Eagle; my little step son, Bobby, is more of a SOARER!”

  The two tree monkeys looked at each other and shouted, “RUN!”

  “Where!” called out the second tree monkey as he followed the first tree monkey out of the clearing and into the forest.

  The first tree monkey shrugged as he ran; “Not s
ure...perhaps we should have a look up North. Or South, as the stork flies! Yes North! Lets head north, away from here! Away from leopard foster mothers! We could become Arctic Monkeys!”

  The second tree monkey laughed, “Yeah, I bet you'd look good on the ice flow!”

  Back in the clearing, Opa jumped down from the tree and tutted; “Tree monkeys, so easy to frighten. Now, lets try that honey...”

  The sun yawned and stared down and blinked then blinked again. Staring back at it was another sun! For a moment the sun panicked until it realised the other sun was just a mirage... Just you wait until moon-time the sun thought, no mirages at night...

  Somewhere, under a dried up wadi bed, deep inside a mud-brick, a fish tried to work out just when the next rains would arrive... Instead night arrived, early as always. It hung around and after a while was joined by the moon who was enjoying a water reflection of herself when...