A children

AN ELEPHANT IN DISGUISE

THE GREAT KING

Most of the spectators were there to see The Great King, but the children were not. The spectators wanted to see the king not only because he was their king, but more importantly, because he was their new king. The children, instead, had come to see their mother who had been taken from them by the very same king. It was for this reason that Sonchai pushed through the crowd, pulling his sister behind him. He wanted to be in front so as to better see their mother, and more importantly, so that she might see them.

Both children leaned forward, shaded their eyes from the bright sunlight and squinted anxiously in the direction of the palace. All of the king’s household would parade from the palace to the temple at the far end of the grand concourse. Sumalee felt her brother’s hand in hers to remind her that this might very well be the last time they would see their mother. It was when Sonchai squeezed her hand more tightly that the tears came to her eyes.

Behind them in the crowd, their grandfather watched. What he saw was boy of twelve and a girl of ten years. Both full of life: the boy as handsome as his soldier father; the girl as pretty as his own daughter, their mother. Seeing Sumalee’s tears brought a tear to his own eyes. He, too, was reminded that his daughter had been taken from their home into the household of the new king. Usually, this would be an honour, but it was not an honour that this family needed. The children had already lost their father when the same king forced all Thai soldiers to leave the city. It was said that the new king had no patience with Thais, even though as a hired soldiers they had served the old king well. That the Thais in the North continued to take his lands angered him. These events left the boy and his sister with a grandfather maybe too old to care for them. Something had to be done, and Grandfather knew that he had no choice but to send the children out of the city to live with their father in the northern Thai kingdom of Sukhothai. These thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of music announcing the arrival of the first part of the royal parade. He turned his eyes toward the palace as did all those around him.

In spite of themselves, the children did squirm with excitement. Soldiers led the procession with those of them in front dropping to the roadside as the parade passed to create a corridor for those that followed. One of these soldiers forced Sonchai and Sumalee back to the curb with the side of his pike.

The parade was now right in front of them. Colourful flags and banners accompanied the many musicians who struck huge gongs, sounded trumpets, and beat drums. The noise was deafening. Following on foot, were five hundred palace women each wearing a flower-decorated dress, and wearing a fresh flower in her hair, and each carried a burning candle. Another troupe of women came behind with the household riches of gold and silver held high. Then came the women guards of the King’s harem brandishing lances and shields. The last soldiers on foot were the King’s own household guards, strutting boldly in the sunlight. But, as yet, there was no sign of their mother.

Carts large and small came next, each with an attendant, and each drawn by a goat, an oxen or a horse. Behind them a huge entourage of elephants quietly walked into view. Each animal carried a mahout astride the animal’s neck using his feet to prod the elephant on its way. Sitting behind the mahout, was an important minister of government or an army commander dressed in fine clothes which sparkled with gold thread. Above each dignitary, a large, bright-red gold speckled umbrella shaded them from the heat of the sun. The elephants themselves were similarly draped with a rich cloth which hung almost to the ground and created a swishing sound as they passed. There must have been hundreds of elephants in the parade, and their distinct smell was everywhere about.

Both Sonchai and Sumalee were now prostrate as was everybody else who came to watch the parade. Knees together, hands clasped prayer-like on the ground, and foreheads touching their hands, they caught only occasional glimpses of people in the parade, but it would be enough to let them see the one person they had come to see. However, if they were to see their mother that day, it would be soon because it was now that chosen wives and ladies of the court came into view.

Grandfather prayed that the children would get their wish, and that his daughter would, indeed, be in the parade. Some of the King’s women rode horses, slaves carried others in palanquins draped with fine silks, but those most favoured by the King rode atop elephants. With all the finery on display, it would be difficult to pick out his daughter, but for the children’s sake, he hoped they would be able to see her.

Both Sonchai and Sumalee fidgeted and tried to peer through and over the melee of shuffling elephants, gold braid and the hanging drapery of colours covering each animal. “We’ll never see mother!” Sumalee whispered aloud. But luck was with them when a momentary space cleared in the column allowing them to see through the array to the far side of the concourse. “There she is! There she is!” shouted Sumalee raising her head momentarily from the ground. Sonchai, was just as excited, but he noticed the disapproval of the soldier beside them, and put his arm over his sister’s shoulder as a gentle reminder to her to remain calm and to keep her head down.

Sonchai saw what Sumalee saw, and had to admit that his mother looked even more beautiful than usual in the fine garments the King had provided for her. That she was high atop an elephant made her sparkling beauty even more noticeable. No wonder the King had wanted her in his household! Although he tried to keep a cool heart as was expected of him, his emotions overcame him, and he heard himself whispering aloujd, “But, I want her to know that we are here!“ Just as suddenly he found himself standing up so that his mother could see him. This she did and waved and smiled just as he had wanted. Sumalee joined in the waving, and even called out her mother’s name.

But the soldier standing beside them turned and struck Sonchai back down again. “Silly boy, the King is almost here. Get your head down!” Sumalee chuckled quietly through her tears; proud of a brother who would dare to stand when he was supposed to be on his knees. Grandfather echoed his granddaughter’s smile with one of his own.

The King was finally in view. All heads moved more tightly to the ground, and the crowd became silent. He was a new king, and wanted to leave a good impression, especially as he knew people were bound to be wary of a man who had stolen the kingdom from the true son of the old king. But suddenly, there he was in all his splendor, standing upright on a huge elephant, swathed in gold cloth, with feet astride, and both of his hands on the great golden sword of state: Indravarman the Third, King of all the Khmers, King of all of Kamphucha (Cambodia). Sunlight reflected off the gold-adorned tusks of his elephant, and Sonchai tried to be impressed, but found himself pushing his head harder to the ground for fear of showing his heartbreak, and his unhappiness with a king who had broken his family apart.

OLD DAENG

That evening, Grandfather called his old slave, Daeng, into the house. Daeng, like their absent father, was Thai. Long ago he had become indebted to Grandfather, but had never earned enough to buy his release. In truth, he had never really tried to be released from his slavery, because he had never thought of leaving the family of which he had become so much a part.

Daeng prostrated himself before Grandfather and the two children. They all knew what was about to happen. Daeng was to take the children by ox cart as far as the city of Khorat over 200 kilometers distance. Grandfather spoke of their long friendship and momentarily frightened old Daeng by offering to release him if he would take the journey with the children. “But I don’t want my freedom, Master, I am too old, and have nowhere to go. Let me return to your house. Let me come back and die in the house I have known for most of my life.” Grandfather knew, as did the old slave, that it would be so. The two old men needed each other.

“So, it shall be, Old Daeng. Take the children to Khorat and then return here.” Both men smiled at each other knowing that it was never intended to be any other way.

“But how will we to get from Khorat to father in Sukothai?” Sonchai asked the two old men. “Why can’t Daeng stay with us until we are with father?”

“I have given Daeng a written message to old friend in Khorat who knows the road from Khorat better than we do. That friend will take you the rest of the way to Sukothai.”

“But Phee Tha (mother’s father), can’t you come with us?” asked little Sumalee; quite wide-eyed with the thought that grandfather, too, was abandoning them.

“No, no, Granddaughter. I am too old for such a journey. Daeng knows the way of the road and will look after you well. Now get your bundles ready for the cart that waits outside the door. It is dark now, and cool enough to travel. Away you go, Sumalee. You are a lucky young lady to have both Old Daeng and a brave brother to look after you. No more tears, my child.”

Outside, two oxen shuffled impatiently in the yoke of the cart. Sumalee had never ridden in such a thing before, and wasn’t sure whether she could even climb aboard. But Old Daeng lifted her past one of the two huge wooden-spoked wheels and tucked her into some bedding beneath the woven whicker canopy. Both Sonchai and Sumalee clasped their hands prayer-like and bowed their heads to salute Grandfather and waved again and again as the oxen and the cart were led from the yard out into the night. Grandfather was still standing by the fence long after they had disappeared.

In truth, he could have kept the children with him: it was more than just his older years that had forced him to send them away. There were frightening rumours that the new king saw his daughter as his most favoured wife, and if this were true, then the king might want the children of another man out of the way in any succession to the throne. This was the way of lions and of kings who always kill the children of the father they replace. There was no doubt in his mind that the king could decide to do harm to the children. This possibility he had kept from them, choosing only to confide in Old Daeng, and trusting that the faithful servant would make sure the children got safely to Khorat and then on to Sukhothai to live with their father.

Out on the road, both children fell asleep in spite of the loud creaks of the two wheels turning on the wooden axel, and the lurching of the cart as it climbed over the bumps of the countryside. Only then did Daeng climb aboard, leaving the oxen to find their own way along the sometimes dusty and sometimes muddy road north.

THE GREAT KING’S ROAD

The road from the Great King’s city, Angkor, led to the mountains through which they would need to pass. It was a well-kept road raised above the ruts and bumps of the fields around, so the first part of the journey went quite smoothly for the children. They met many ox carts going both ways. Some carried salt to sell in the King’s city, while others carried cloth and pottery imported from China to sell in the North. Luckily for the children, this gentler part of the journey let Daeng prepare them for hardships he knew they would soon face once they got to the mountains.

At night they stopped under trees, and set the oxen loose to forage for food in the grasses around while they sought firewood and some drinkable water in the forest. Sometimes they would barter for food from local villagers using the bundles of cloth Grandfather had given them. The leisurely days before the mountains, and the many things to do, gave both children a chance to get used to the idea that home was now an oxcart taking them to their father.

It was late July with the rainy season well underway. Daeng knew that it was not the best season for travel, but they hadn’t had a choice. The coming pass through the Dang Rek Mountains was bound to be difficult with possible landslides blocking the road. He prayed to the Lord Buddha that all would go well for him and the children.

In the mountains the rain poured down forcing them to huddle under the canopy of the cart. Water dripped from the noses of the oxen, and the cartwheels were often buried over their rims in mud. There were many times when they had to walk beside the cart in the pouring rain as it climbed over hills. Sonchai said nothing of these discomforts, but Little Sumalee often wished out loud that she was back home with Grandfather.

It took two days to get through the mountain pass: two days of misery. Each night the temperature dropped, and it became difficult to sleep. Usually, they let the oxen run free knowing they wouldn’t wander far, but in the mountains with the rain all about, they had to tether them for fear they would wander off into the forest to hide from the weather. Once under cover, Daeng knew the animals would be reluctant to return to harness in the morning.

On the second day, they rounded a corner in the pass to find that a mudslide had partly covered a cart. No other carts were in sight, so Daeng knew that it was he and the children who had to help the people and their tortured animals the best they could. He urged his oxen to the top of the debris, and jumped down to try to pull a man and wife from under the mud. The woman was in pain, trying hard to breathe and crying in agony. Little Sumalee was by her side in an instant to wipe mud from her face and to comfort her with a hug. Meanwhile, Sonchai and Daeng used digging sticks to uncover her. By the time they had freed her, the husband had freed himself, and was trying to right his cart with its two oxen dangling sideways in their harness. Old Daeng joined him, calling to Sonchai to help shoulder the cart upright. Suddenly, the teetering cart tipped back onto its wheels, forcing the two oxen to scramble through the mud to get to their feet. At the same moment, a loud bawling came from further down the muddy slope. “It’s an elephant with her calf,” the other cart driver offered, “I don’t see the mahout. He must be somewhere under the mud.”

Sonchai was the first to see the elephants’ master: “Over there! Over there!” he shouted. Sure enough, the man was lying either dead or unconscious only a short distance from the struggling beasts. He ran to the man’s side, and was relieved to find him still breathing. Sonchai lifted him into the sitting position as the man came to consciousness. “He isn’t dead!” Sonchai shouted back to the others. It wasn’t until then that he noticed the condition of the elephants. The elephant calf, who had escaped being covered by the slide, was running around and around its mother who had her hind legs locked under the mud, bellowing loudly each time she struggled forward to try to extricate herself.

A short time later, there was a great sucking sound as the mother elephant finally loosened her hindquarters to pull her legs from the mud in which she had been trapped. She then staggered forward to stand, wobbling, while her calf ran to her side, bleating a high-pitched cry as only a baby elephant can. The mother stood still for another moment, and then responded by stroking her little one with her trunk, and by uttering low, reassuring mumbles. All was well with the elephants, but the mahout was still coughing up mud. Sonchai slapped the man on his back to assist in the exit of water and mud. “Sumalee, bring the water container for the man!” Sonchai called.

Daeng now had the cart man and wife cleaned up and ready to talk about the event. “Are there others buried under the slide?” he asked.

“No, it was just our cart and that mahout with his elephants. We had just turned the bend into this gap when the mud came down upon us,” he replied. They were lucky to be alive, and they knew it. His wife clasped her hands in prayer to the mountain above them, and quietly told her husband that they must surely stop at the next shrine to thank the gods.

Sumalee and Sonchai got the mahout on his feet, and were being thoroughly investigated in turn by the inquiring trunks of both the mother and the baby elephant. The mahout finally gathered his wits and realized that the children had been his saviors. He smiled, rose to his feet and then prodded his mother elephant down to her front knees to then salute the two children with a raised trunk and a large bellow. Sumalee was delighted with the cleverness of the mother and in return, ran over to hug the baby elephant about its trunk. This meant that she became thoroughly coated with mud on both her hands and face. Everyone laughed, not only at Sumalee’s muddy face, but because the crisis was past.

PHNOM RUNG

The next morning they were out of the mountains, and eventually came in sight of the towers of Phnom Rung. The shrine was high on a bluff overlooking the rice fields through which their path now went. It would take another day to reach there, but by nightfall they should enter the smaller shrine at the base of the bluff. Although they had been traveling alone, the cart and elephants they had rescued now accompanied them, and the children were able to chat as they moved along. Sonchai learned that Boonmee (Lucky), the mahout, was going at least as far as Khorat where he said he might try to sell his elephant and her calf. Of course, it took no time at all for Sumalee to find that the mother elephant was named Chariya (good manners), and her female calf was Charunee (lady-like).

Old Daeng was more interested in the cart owner and his wife who had traveled the same road only a year before. They told him that they looked forward to stopping at Phnom Rung because not only would they be able to visit the temple itself, but would try to sell some of their Chinese pottery to villagers who lived nearby. And besides, the hospital there would care for his wife’s injured arm quite bruised by the slide. As to Khorat itself, their final destination, Daeng learned that Dan Kwein, the huge cart checkpoint outside of Khorat, was still the best place to stay when one had business in city. That the Dan Kwein villagers also made excellent pottery which they could get in trade, also interested the man and his wife because they would be able to return home to Angkor with something to sell.

That evening they arrived at Muang Tam, a smaller temple within sight of Phnom Rung. The sun was well down in the sky, but villagers were still everywhere around the temple site. Some sold water, others firewood and food, and others fodder for oxen and elephants. But Old Daeng chose to save his trade goods, and moved his cart into the forest to camp out as they had done before. Boonmee followed along with his elephants who needed more water and food than he could afford to buy. The mother elephant, Chariya, was taken to gather firewood and a pile of grass before being tethered to a tree for the night. As it hadn’t rained for a day or two, all slept near a campfire under the trees anticipating that in the morning they would climb up the hill to the huge temple just to the north of them.

When they awoke in the morning, Boonmee and the elephants weren’t in sight, which bothered Sumalee because she thought they had gone without them. But a trumpet from Chariya from somewhere over a knoll made her laugh as she ran to see where they were. Sonchai followed and both saw that Boonmee had found a pond of water in which his animals could wallow. Sumalee ran down the slope and screamed in delight when the baby, with trunk raised, squirted her all over with water. Boonmee was on the back of the mother in the pond scrubbing the mud of the journey from behind her ears, and was thoroughly soaked in water himself. It took only a little time for both Sumalee and Sonchai to wade into the pool themselves, adjusting their panungs as they ducked themselves under the water. Sumalee wore her panung wrapped around her and knotted in front above her chest, while Sonchai wore his at waist-level, tucked through the legs and knotted at the back to make two trouser legs. Once in the pool no one wanted to get out, but Old Daeng called from the top of the knoll, and they knew it was time to move on. Soaked to the skin, with panungs just as wet, the children hiked up the hill knowing that the sun would soon dry both them and their clothes.

The cart trail up to Phnom Rung wound around the side of the bluff bringing them to the grand entrance at the bottom of the stairway. What they saw above them was almost as magnificent as their home city of Angkor, maybe even more so because of the way this city-temple overlooked the countryside from atop the hill. Hundreds of carts were already tethered around, with people both going up and coming down the stairs ahead of them. Old Daeng asked the children to leave him with the cart while they climbed up to visit the temple. He asked that they pray for him as well as for themselves. The Hindu gods, Shiva and Vishnu, had originally been honoured by the temple, and still were, but the Lord Buddha and his holy monks had become more important. The children had collected a few lotus blossoms from the pond, and now added a length of cloth from the cart to take as offerings to the shrine. They started up the slope to a terrace where they stopped to wave back at Daeng, continued with hundreds of others through a long causeway, and then up many, many stairs to another terrace where they rested by the side of a pond built into the structure. Looking out over the countryside, they could barely make out which one of the many carts below belonged to Daeng.

From the terrace, they crossed a sandstone bridge guarded by huge carved many-headed snakes, to finally enter the grounds of the temple itself. Vendors all around sold water, fruit and incense sticks that Sumalee insisted they buy by tearing off a small piece of the cloth meant for the temple monks. Sonchai pretended to disapprove, but was as thirsty as her, and quickly made the purchase. The lineups waiting to enter the temple sanctuaries disappointed the children because of the long wait in the hot sun, so they wandered around the side of the building to seek some shade.

As they sat down on one of the protrusions in the temple wall, they noticed an old monk meditating in a corner. He sat with feet tucked under him, and with his palms upwards resting on each knee. Both children brought their hands up to salute him at about the same time as the monk opened his eyes to smile back at them. “May the Lord Buddha bless the both of you,” he said. The children went down on their knees and touched their heads to the ground three times as was the custom when approacjing a Buddhist monk. “Where are you from, children,” he asked.

“We are from Angkor, the Great King’s City, father,” Sonchai replied, “on our way to Sukhothai in the North.”

Sumalee whispered in Sonchai’s ear, “Ask him if our journey will go well, Phee Chai (Older Brother).”

Before Sonchai could even ask the question, the old monk surprised them both by offering them an answer, “I see that an elephant in disguise will join you on your journey,” he said, “and that there will be those who will try to steal what you value most.”

“But father, how can an elephant be disguised?” Sonchai immediately asked, but the old monk had already closed his eyes and returned to his meditation, and Sonchai knew no further answer would be forthcoming. Sumalee joined Sonchai in thanking the monk with her head to the ground, and they backed away to leave the man to his prayers.

Later, they finally got their turn to enter into the inner sanctuary of the temple to pay proper respect to the Buddha image and the senior monk therein. This done, the children made their way back down the slope quite anxious to tell Old Daeng about the mysterious message from the old monk. Sumalee had easily accepted what the monk had said without much thought, but Sonchai was quite disturbed by the whole incident, especially the warning that something of value might be stolen from them.

The children reached the cart and its oxen at noon when the sun was at its hottest. They found Old Daeng asleep in the shade under the cart, and joined him after taking sips from the water container. All three had dozed off when a thunderclap woke them and the daily, heavy downpour of rain started. The oxen shuffled their discomfort with the rain by rocking the cart, which sprinkled the three under it with water. They sat up where they were, and waited patiently for over twenty minutes before the rain let up. It was two in the afternoon and time to move on if they were to get any distance that day.

They were hardly underway when Sonchai remembered the warning they had received from the old monk, and insisted that Daeng hear him out. “How can I take the monk seriously when he talks about a disguised elephant? How can an elephant be hidden from anyone who has eyes to see?” Sonchai asked.

“When a monk speaks, Young Master, the real message is often hidden from you. Something about an elephant is hidden from you I am sure,” Daeng replied. “And thieves are certain to be found everywhere, so the advice he gave must be heeded if you want to reach Sukhothai safely.”

Sonchai’s skepticism upset Sumalee who thought that her brother was showing disrespect towards the words of a monk which would surely bring trouble down on their heads. Grabbing onto Sonchai’s arm, she shook it and tried to stop him from speaking more about what the monk had said to them. “Mother told us to honour those who are Buddha’s teachers,” she said quietly to Sonchai. Her caution brought on a silence that lasted for hours as the cart continued its journey northwards.

DAN KWEIN

It took almost a week to reach Dan Kwein, and in spite of the daily rains, the children looked forward to each day. With Boonmee and his two elephants as traveling companions, they found much to learn and share. What particularly excited them was finding out that Boonmee, like their father, had been siam kruk (a hired Thai soldier) in the Great King’s army.

They were two days out from Phnom Rung, before Boonmee invited the children to take turns riding on the back of his mother elephant. When it was Sumalee’s turn, she often fell asleep as the elephant rocked its way along the road. But Sonchai sat upright with his feet correctly placed behind Chariya’s ears. And much to Sumalee’s enjoyment, even tried to stand tall like a king, tottered over and had to scramble quickly to stop from sliding to the ground.

Each night around the fire, Old Daeng and Boonmee would exchange stories, and the children listened wide-eyed as each man told of his adventures. Sonchai became especially alert when Boonmee told of his soldiering escapades. Boonmee was a swordsman like the children’s father, and actually carried two such weapons with him. Sonchai insisted that Boonmee show them the weapons, right there and then, but Boonmee begged off and told Sonchai that he was too tired to unpack them. In truth, Boonmee knew that soldiers and spies of the Great King, Indravarman, controlled the southern parts of the countryside through which they traveled, and did not wish to arouse any suspicions.

The next day they arrived at the checkpoint. They could see that thousands of ox carts were parked everywhere, but they also saw that Indravarman’s soldiers and taxmen were also there. “We come to sell silk cloth in Khorat,” Daeng told them while both Sonchai and Sumalee remained very quiet under the canopy of the cart. “And we will take Dan Kwein pottery back to the Great City for my master,” he continued, which seem to satisfy the soldier who then asked for a bolt of cloth in payment of the checkpoint tax.

They had just found a place to park their cart, when looking back they saw that Boonmee was being held to one side while others were being permitted to continue through. “He doesn’t have any cloth to pay the soldiers!” Sumalee exclaimed, “We should pay for him,” she insisted.

But Daeng ignored her plea, and whispered, “Quiet little one, or you will make trouble for all of us. Boonmee is no fool: he will know what to do.”

Sonchai laughed, and told Sumalee to take a second look. “Boonmee has already found a way, Sumalee, Chariya is gathering firewood for the soldier’s camp.” They all smiled when they saw not only Chariya carrying wood, but also her baby trying her best to drag a twig along behind.

A CHANGE OF PLANS

The children woke with the sun, and were excited about going into Khorat with Daeng. The plan was to have Daeng pay another trusted cart owner to take them on to Sukhothai. But this plan was not to be.

Boonmee had tied Chariya to a tree near a pond of water not far from where the soldiers and tax collectors had their canopy erected. Sonchai noticed that a few new soldiers had arrived overnight, and that Boonmee was busy chatting with them. “Let’s go say goodbye to Boonmee and his elephants,” Sumalee asked of Daeng and Sonchai.

“No! Stay here,” Daeng whispered his reply. “we don’t want trouble with those new soldiers. Let Boonmee come to us.” Although Boonmee was chatting with the soldiers, he saw Daeng and the children looking his way, and broke off from what he was doing to wander in their direction, taking a circular route stopping here and there to examine merchandise being sold by cart owners. Daeng and the children waited patiently.

“Pretend you don’t know me,” Boonmee whispered when he finally arrived at their cart. He then picked up one of Daeng’s bolts of cloth to examine it as he had at the other carts. “Listen carefully, because you might be in danger,” he said quietly. The children both caught their breath and wondered what it was that Boonmee could possibly have done to put them all in danger.

Boonmee squatted on the ground pretending a strong interest in a bolt of cloth. He looked directly at Daeng, and pretending to bargain for a price, carefully said, “The soldiers are looking for two children who belong to one of the Great King’s wives. They told me that these children have a Thai father who lives in Sukhothai, and that they have orders to see that the children don’t reach their father, and that they don’t return to the Great Kings’ city.” The children gasped, and turned away so that others around would not see their concern.

“Daeng, you shouldn’t go into Khorat. It is too dangerous. Take them northwards towards the Phimai shrine, and I’ll catch up with you tonight. If things go well, I’ll take the children with me to Sukhothai.”

The danger frightened the children, and, although Daeng had known of the possibility, he, too, was quite upset by Boonmee’s message. “Keep calm, children, and quietly collect your belongings to ready for departure,” Daeng whispered to them. Sumalee clung to Sonchai, but was encouraged to start reloading the cart while Sonchai helped Daeng get the oxen back into harness.

The danger was there, but just as important to Sonchai was the prospect of traveling with Boonmee. Here was a soldier like his own father, a soldier who might show him how to become more of a man, and less the boy he had been until now. He felt somehow taller now that it was Boonmee who would take them to Sukhothai.

Just as they steered their cart toward the far end of the camp, soldiers were seen moving from one cart to another interrogating those with children. Daeng wound a circular route through the carts trying to look as if they did not intend an exit from the camp. Every now and then the soldiers would look up from their investigations to scan the assembled carts, but Old Daeng would stop his oxen and pretend to take something from within. It was near noon before the soldiers reached the outer circle of carts, and approached Daeng. The children held their breath, and hid motionless under the cart canopy. Daeng tried to act nonchalant, yet he feared the worst when a soldier headed their way. The soldier was about to speak, when the daily downpour of rain started. Both the soldier and Daeng sought cover, Daeng under the cart, and the soldier running off toward his headquarters canopy at the other end of the camp. With the soldier out of sight, and the children still hidden inside the cart, Daeng led them quietly away through the rain into a grove of trees out of sight of the soldiers. There they remained until late in the day when all others were taking an evening meal. It was then, and only then, that they dared to continue their escape from the camp.

The road to Phimai was under the control of the Great King, but it was less traveled than routes to the west. Daeng had not intended to come this far north with the children, but here he was with only the promise of Boonmee to meet with them, and to take the children to Sukhothai. The rain had stopped, and with distance between them and the soldiers of Dan Kwein, Daeng pulled the cart off the road to make camp for the night.

The children went about their camping chores quietly, not wanting to speak of the fear they had experienced with their near discovery that afternoon. However, once a campfire was going and the rice was cooked, they whispered their concerns to Daeng, and wanted to know more about why they had to flee. It was then that Daeng admitted that Grandfather had told him of the dangers they might face. “But why would the king want us dead?” Sonchai asked in disbelief.

"When a king takes a women into his house, and then chooses to make her his favorite wife, it is the king who doesn’t want children by another man. Such children might challenge his own children when it comes time for a new king,” Daeng explained.

“I told you it was not mother who wants us dead! Our mother would not kill us!” Sumalee stated angrily to Sonchai. A few tears accompanied her angry words.

Sonchai was about to answer when Boomee’s baby elephant came trotting through the bush to their clearing and right to Sumalee’s side. Sumalee immediately rose to greet the little one with a big hug. While Daeng and Sonchai got up to welcome Boonmee who had led Chariya toward them, and was now securing her to a nearby tree. Suddenly, there were smiles all around.

Later that evening, Daeng and Boonmee discussed the arrangements that would take the children on to Sukhothai. When they reached Sukhothai, Boonmee was to seek out the children’s father, Prem, a soldier like himself. They would avoid Phimai and the possibility of more of the Great King’s soldiers by heading westwards to Chaiyaphum. However, other dangers came with this decision; bandits were known to practice their trade in forests south of Chaiyaphum.

All slept under the cart until sunup. Old Daeng was the first to be ready to leave, and the children, particularly Sumalee, had a lot of difficulty saying goodbye. She clung to the side of the cart even as he moved it back to the road. The old man, stopped the cart and once again reached over to hug the child as the “uncle” she saw him to be. Sonchai took her by the hand and stood with her until Daeng and the cart were finally gone.

IN THE COMPANY OF ELEPHANTS

When they turned back to Boonmee and his elephants, they found him carefully unwrapping his two matched swords. He then strapped the scabbards to his back, one crossed upon the other. Waving the children back from him, he reached cross-armed to pull the swords over his shoulders to the raised fighting position. Sonchai found his body mimicking the same movements. This brought a smile to Boonmee’s face who knew how much boys wanted to do man things. Boonmee dropped his arms and gave one of the swords to Sonchai who anxiously heft it in his hand as Boonmee had done. “These swords are much like those of my father,” Sonchai said. And they were, indeed.

His father had been a member of a Krom Darb-Song-Mu (“sword-in-both-hands fighting unit”). Holding the two weapons on high they slashed at the enemy with either one or the other sword. Their feet also came into play with both knees and the extended foot driving at the enemy. The swords were so sharp that a good blow usually removed the opponent’s head in one blow. Sonchai had played the “sword-in-both-hands” game many a time with his friends, using sticks instead of the real thing. And when they tired of swordplay, the same hands-high tactics, with flying feet, were played out as Muay Thai (bare hand combat). That some Thai women were equally good as men on the battlefield, had not interested Sumalee until this moment when she found that Sonchai was getting all the attention.

“Let me hold the sword, too,” Sumalee said.

“You are too young, Sumalee,” Sonchai insisted and pulled away from her.

“She might be young, Sonchai, but it will do no harm to let her hold the weapon for a moment. Besides, when I fought in Sukhothai, the best fighter in our group was a woman. I know it is said that a woman is only the hind legs of the elephant, but when she decides to take the lead, look out,” Boonmee teased.

Sumalee could barely lift the weapon when she finally got it in her hands. In fact, had to use both hands to hold it at all. But her point had been made: she was entitled to be part of the conversation.

“We must be on our way,” Boonmee stated, and then stored his weapons in the lower pouch of Chariya’s saddlebag. Using his probe, he gently brought the huge beast to her knees so that Sumalee could grab an ear and lift herself to a sitting position behind Chariya’s head. Sumalee’s legs dangled behind the huge ears, and she held tight as Boonmee ordered the elephant to stand.

“Where’s Charunee?” Sumalee asked leaning over to get a glimpse underneath her steed. The baby was there as Sumalee suspected, taking the opportunity of the standing Chariya to drink more of her mother’s milk. This “breakfast” was interrupted when Boonmee took the mother by the trunk and led her from the clearing back onto the road. It didn’t mean that the baby wasn’t still trying to get more milk, only that it became impossible as her mother moved along. Sumalee felt the unhappiness of the little animal as it bleated its displeasure with the now moving food supply.

Sonchai walked importantly beside Boonmee scoffing at the opportunity to ride with Sumalee. Every now and then he would raise both arms in Muay Thai style boxing, and kick out at an imaginary opponent. And so it was for hours on end until they came to the forest they would have to enter now that the road north no longer took them toward Chaiyaphun.

THE FOREST

By mid-afternoon they were about to leave the road and enter the forest when they met a hunter carrying two jungle fowl he had killed with his bow. “Bai nai?” the hunter asked.

“We go to Chaiyaphun,” Boonmee replied admiring the birds the hunter carried. “What can I give you for one of your birds, uncle?”

“Right now, I could use a few more arrows. Do you have any? Maybe five arrows for one bird.”

“I am sorry, Uncle, but I can only spare two as I must keep a few to kill game later in our journey.”

“Three would be enough’” the hunter bargained.

“Two is all I can spare, sir,” Boonmee insisted.

"Two it is, then,” the man smiled in reply, “but only because I know the children will need more food than you can find before mealtime. My advice is to eat early while it is still daylight because a nighttime fire will attract robbers.” With these words he waved and continued on his way.

The hunter had hardly gone from sight when Sumalee turned in despair to Boonmee rattling off a dozen questions without giving him a chance to answer even one of them, “What will we do if robbers come? Will they kill us? What can they steal? What can a robber want that we have? And…”

On the other hand, the prospect of standing beside Boonmee with a sword in hand quite excited Sonchai, so he interrupted Sumalee to state authoritively, “We’ll fight them, of course!”

Boonmee saw that Sumalee was not reassured with Sonchai’s blood and death answer, and offered a quieter one, “A good soldier makes sure the battle is one where he has at least a chance of winning, Sumalee. We will eat early and then move on to a quiet clearing to sleep for the night. Robbers will not look for those they do not know are there.”

Sonchai hastily tried to get back his self-importance by agreeing emphatically with Boonmee, “Yes, Sumalee, that would be the soldiers way.”

They did exactly what the hunter had suggested. They first stopped to cook rice and the bird over a fire, and then moved further into the forest to hide for the night.

They slept soundly under a make shift shelter Boonmee built for them, even though a light rain sometimes sprinkled through the imperfect roof. When the rain finally let up, it was beginning to get light, and Sonchai woke before the others. He felt that something had awakened him, and looked about to see that Boonmee and Sumalee both still slept soundly. What was it then that had wakened him? He looked further just outside the shelter and saw that Chariya was swaying back and forth, tugging at her ropes. Little Chanya was whimpering and pressed hard against her mother. Both elephants had their eyes fixed on something on the ground.

There it was! A cobra snake lay partly across Sumalee’s bare legs, and was slithering towards her head. Just then, Sumalee suddenly stirred and sat up on one elbow. Sonchai gasped in terror. “Don’t move! A snake is on you. Stay still!” he said in a whisper. But the snake had already been alerted and was rising to the strike position. It was no ordinary snake, but a King Cobra, a huge reptile the length of a man.

Sumalee was rigid with fright. Sonchai knew he had to do something quickly. The snake now turned toward him, its hood puffed wide, hissing its displeasure at his interference. Sonchai saw one of Boonmee’s swords on the ground, but it was just out of his reach. Watching the snake draw back and raise itself even higher, made him act. He rolled and made a grab for the sword, and rolled again just as the snake struck at him. His roll had put him out of reach, and he now had the sword in his right hand. He swung at the beast just as it started to raise itself for another strike. His swing brought the blade home, half decapitating the animal which now writhed and squirmed itself right out of the shelter to the feet of Chariya. The elephant immediately used her front feet to stomp and kill the snake. Sumalee cheered.

Sonchai’s hair was still standing on end, and snake blood still dripped from the sword, when Boonmee woke and scrambled to his feet to see what danger was about. Once he saw what had happened, he put his arm around Sonchai, to quietly say, “Good boy! You are certainly a soldier’s son!”

The excitement of the morning over, and a breakfast of rice and cold jungle chicken, they packed up and started off through the forest once again. A bright shining sun brought the forest to life with all sorts of animal sounds. Boonmee identified the sound of a barking deer for them, and they all saw a herd of bentang (wild cattle) who stared at them from a clearing.

It was at another clearing that they stopped to let the elephants wallow in a pond. Sunlight in the clearing had brought out thousands of butterflies to hover and drink from the edge of the pond, and when dung beetles found the elephants about, they hurriedly gathered together to claim the elephant dung for their own, marching back and forth between their nests with little balls of dung. Orchids growing in the moss of trees opened their flowers to entrance all three of them with the quietness and beauty of the place.

As they had done before, they bathed in the pool with the elephants, and then sat quietly in the sun to dry. It was then that a low, throaty, growl came from the far side of the clearing, the unmistakable growl of a tiger! “Quick! Up on Chariya’s back,” Boonmee shouted in a whisper knowing that tigers will not attack an elephant, especially one ready to defend her calf. Chariya was already agitated and kept her little one behind her away from where the tiger obviously lay. She backed up, forcing the baby to move with her, and kept backing up, bellowing loud threats at the tiger scent which she kept testing with her waving trunk. Only when she had enough distance from where she thought the tiger lay, did she turn forcing Chanya to her far side while at the same time hastily rushing out of the clearing into the forest. Her passengers held tight as tree branches and leaves scraped over them. Fifteen minutes went by before Boonmee could bring Chariya back under his control, and to a stop and a rest. The danger over, Chariya nonchalantly started to taste leaves around her as if nothing untoward had happened at all. Her passengers took a little longer to gain their breath and their composure.

Their sudden and noisy arrival had disturbed residents of the forest around, and two monkeys dropped down through the forest canopy to see what was happening. Chariya’s passengers had just regained their composures and were busy watching the monkeys, when a loud crashing of trees and brush startled them and the elephants. Had the tiger followed them?

etc.,