Ralph Helfer Read Online Free PDF

air, she raised her trunk to resume the loud gusts of wind in Bram’s direction, showing her definite displeasure at being awakened in the middle of the night by having her nose squeezed.
    “Well, you should breathe more often!”
    “Erruuuuu!”
    “All elephants breathe often.”
    “Wwwuuuuugruuuuu!”
    “I breathe often.”
    “Braa hecuuuu!”
    “So I didn’t get any rest either. You shouldn’t sleep so deeply.”

4
    S ATURDAY MORNING . There was no great fanfare about it. Modoc’s left front foot was resting on a large oak stump while Bram put the finishing touches to the trimming and rasping of her nails. His father had used great patience in teaching him exactly how it should be done, and Bram, perfectionist that he was, had each nail cut and groomed perfectly. There were no splits and all were nicely convex in shape. Bram smiled when he remembered how his father had made a comparison between his mother’s nail kit and Mo’s. Everything was the same except for size. Katrina’s dainty little file, clippers, and trimmers were small compared to the giant ones used for elephants, but the method was similar.
    It had been a sweaty, tough job, and he was in the process of putting some softening salve on the cuticles when an arm appeared over his shoulder and set a package on the stump. Bram looked up to see his father standing behind him.
    “What is it?” he asked, stretching his back muscles that were sore from bending for the past two hours.
    “Sit down, son,” said Josef, asking as an afterthought, “How’s the trimming coming along?”
    Bram had Mo lower her foot to the ground so he and his father could both sit on the log. She stood close to Bram, her trunk playing with the twigs on the ground.
    “Just fine, Papa,” Bram replied, with a sideways glance at the package.
    Bram had become a big help to his father, always taking his responsibilities seriously, never shirking his duties. He’d been given jobs of the utmost importance; he drove the tractor and could make the furrows almost as straight as Josef’s. Bram and Curpo watered, fed, and cleaned all the livestock on the farm. Although his duties were many, his first thought upon awakening, and the last when going to sleep, was when he could spend time with Modoc.
    “There is something I want to give you,” Josef began, “something that has been in our family for many generations. My father gave it to me when I was thirteen. I stopped using it the day you were born. All things have a life expectancy, you see, even material things, and I wanted to be sure that it had many years of wear ahead so you would be able to enjoy using it as I did.”
    Bram looked into his father’s face, watching its serious lines convey the message. For a moment his father appeared very old and tired, and he had to blink his eyes to return to the present. Josef laid a chamois-wrapped article in Bram’s lap. The skin was old and worn but its dark mahogany color still looked rich, and it was as soft as velvet to touch. As Bram began opening the package, he noticed his father looking at his face, rather than at what he was doing. He felt embarrassed, hoping his first impression of the gift was what his father expected it to be.
    He unfolded the chamois to find the most beautiful hand-carved bull hook. It was about a foot and a half long and two inches thick. The handle was made of rare teak root from India.The end piece of tempered steel formed two points, one straight, the other curved back toward the handle, and both points were rounded off at the tips. It was entirely inlaid with sculpted silver elephants, edged in the same exotic wood as the handle. Along the handle were various carved figures of men and elephants, interacting with each other. Running down the inner side of the shaft were a series of engraved initials, of the mahouts who had once owned it. Bram noticed that the last ones were “B.G.”—newly carved.
    “Remember, son, this is a guide, a liaison