Jean-Marie Blas De Robles - Where Tigers Are at Home

“But tell me,” he went on with a smile, “haven’t you brought back any curios from China that might help to lessen my ignorance about that realm and what there is there?”

Father Roth nodded his agreement, took a handful of dried plants out of his bag, handed them to Kircher. “Even though this herb, which they call cha or tea , exists in numerous locations in China, it grows better in some places than in others. They make a beverage with it that they drink very hot & its beneficial properties are widely known, since not only all the inhabitants of the great empire, but also those of India, of Tartary, of Tibet, of Mogor & all the regions of the Orient take it up to twice a day—”

Kircher gestured him to stop. “There is no need to go on,” he said in friendly tones, “for I already know this remarkable herb. I would never have believed it had so many beneficial properties if the late lamented Father Boym had not made me try it some years ago. As I have been taking it regularly since then, I can tell you that, having a purgative quality, it opens up the kidneys marvelously so that their ducts become very wide & allow urine, sand & stones to pass through; it similarly purges the brain & prevents smoky vapors from troubling it, so that there is not a more effective restorative for scholars & men who are so overloaded with business they are constantly compelled to burn the midnight oil: taking this herb not only helps them to bear their work & relieves their weariness, providing the strength necessary to go without sleep, it also gives so much pleasure to one’s taste buds that once one has accustomed oneself to its acrid & slightly insipid taste, one cannot stop oneself taking as much as one can. What we can say is that the coffee of the Turks & the cocolat or chocolate of the Mexicans, which seem to have the same effect, do not do so to the same extent, since cha has a more temperate quality than the two others; we have noticed that cocolat is too warming in summer & coffee excites the bile to an extraordinary degree, which is not the case with cha , since one can take it at all times & with benefit, even if one were to take it a hundred times a day.”

Father Roth could not conceal his disappointment at not having been able to provide a surprise for my master. He still congratulated him and gave him the cha he had brought from India so that he could compare its flavor and properties with that of China, a present for which Kircher expressed his great satisfaction.

“I thought of you as well,” said Grueber, taking a little package out of his cassock. “Here is a paste made out of a certain herb of the province of Kashgar. It is called Quey or ‘the herb that banishes sorrow’ & possesses, as its name indicates, the quality of producing joy & laughter in those who have taken it. Even better, it is a tonic and stimulates the heart, a quality I have observed myself on numerous occasions when I was eating it to help me climb the steep slopes of Tibet.”

“It could be,” Kircher replied, “that we have a similar herb here, namely Apiorisus , & I would have no difficulty believing such a plant was to be found in that country, if it was said to be poisonous; but you say it is one of the cardiac plants that promote good health, which I cannot understand and will not subscribe to until I have tried it.”

“If you insist, Reverend, but you will have to mix it with jam or honey, since by itself it is unpleasant to the palate.”

At a sign from my master I was about to do the necessary when the gong sounded. By the communication tube the porter announced that Cavaliere Bernini was requesting an interview. Kircher had him sent up immediately, delighted at the thought of seeing his old friend again.

“To work! To work!” Bernini cried when he appeared on the threshold of the library. “Alexander has need of us.”

Kircher went over to him, not without apologizing to those present for the sculptor’s impetuous nature. “So,” he said, “could you tell me the reason for this deafening entry?”

“Of course, Reverend, nothing simpler. I have just heard, from a very reliable source, that the Supreme Pontiff, in imitation of the late Pamphilius, wants to erect an obelisk in Piazza della Minerva & has seen fit to involve us once more in the design of the project. I therefore came as quickly as I could to give you the news, knowing you would be as delighted as I am.”

“I am, indeed, very pleased, but are you absolutely sure of what you say?”

Bernini went up to my master and whispered a few words in his ear.

“In that case,” Kircher said, a joyful look on his face, “there is no doubt at all; I am delighted at your good fortune as well as at the trust the Holy Father has shown us. But let me introduce Father Roth & Father Grueber to you, they have just returned from China & I cannot hear enough of their adventures there …”

They’d been trotting along for two hours, escorted by the Indians who were following the trail marked by Yurupig. Elaine forced herself to talk to Dietlev; she sensed he was worried because of his continuing high temperature and tried to reassure him: “It’s almost over now, they must know the forest inside out, they’ll get us back much more quickly than we could by ourselves. There might even be a mission somewhere around here.”

Dietlev looked skeptical. “I’d give my right hand …” He paused, confused by the unintended relevance of the expression. “Well, perhaps not,” he went on with an apologetic smile. “Let’s say I would swear these people have never had contact with Whites.”

“Oh come on, that’s just not possible. Not round here, at least. What makes you say that?”

“In the reservations, and even in the forest, there are always some the missionaries have persuaded to wear shorts. But above all it’s the way they behave, the way they look at us … Did you see the way the machete caught their eye?”

Elaine was shaken by his argument. “You think they’re the ones who stole the rucksack?”

“There’s a strong chance they were,” Dietlev agreed. “They must have been watching us for a good while. Herman, have you any idea what tribe they might belong to?”

Petersen shook his head. “Not the least, amigo . They don’t look like anything I’ve seen in this part of Amazonia. I don’t know where they might’ve come from; if they’ve already seen a white man it’s so long ago they’ve forgotten.”

“When I think what some ethnologists would pay to be in our place!” Mauro said. “And your daughter would be one of the first, wouldn’t she?”

“That’s for sure,” said Elaine, turning toward him. “I wonder how she would have reacted? They scared the pants off me. Did you see the color of their mouths?”

“They chew tobacco.” Petersen said, “even the kids. It’s general among the Indians.”

“Well at least they seem to know where they’re going,” Mauro said. “That’s something to be grateful for.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Herman grunted, “it’s ages since I saw one of Yurupig’s marks.”

Carried away by the conviction that everything would be all right now, Elaine had paid no attention to the way they were going. She realized, at the same time as Mauro and Dietlev, that none of them could have said whether they were still going in the right direction.

“And it’s not even worth bothering trying to get our bearings,” said Dietlev in disgust.

“We should have kept the compass,” Petersen said in vaguely reproachful tones. “They’re taking us for a walk, that’s all.”