GHOND GOES RECONNOITRING
About the first week of December, Ghond and Gay-Neck were to go on a
reconnaissance trip all by themselves. The place they went to was a
forest not far from Ypres, Armentieres, and Hasbrouck. If you take a
map of France and draw a line from Calais south almost in a straight
line, you will come across a series of places where the British and
Indian armies were situated. Near Armentieres there are many of Indian
Mohommadan soldiers. There are no graves of Indian Hindu soldiers
because the Hindus from time immemorial have cremated their dead, and
those that are cremated occupy no grave. Their ashes are scattered to
the winds, and no place is marked or burdened with their memory.
To return to Ghond and Gay-Neck. They were sent to a forest near
Hasbrouck which was behind the enemy's line, to find out the exact
location of an enormous underground ammunition dump. If found, Ghond
and the pigeon, singly or together, were to return to the British Army
Headquarters with an exact map of the place. That was all. So one clear
December morning, Gay-Neck was taken on an aeroplane. It flew about
twenty miles over a forest, part of which was held by the Indian army
and the rest by the Germans. When they had gone beyond the German line
Gay-Neck was released. He flew all over the woods, then, having gained
some knowledge of the nature of the land, he flew back home. This was
done to make sure that Gay-Neck knew his route and had some inkling of
what was expected of him.
That afternoon when the sun had gone down, which happened at about four
o'clock at this latitude ten degrees north of New York, Ghond, most
warmly dressed, with Gay-Neck under his coat, started. They went on an
ambulance as far as the second line of the Indian army in the great
forest. In utter darkness they proceeded to the front, conducted by
some members of the Intelligence Service.
Soon they found themselves in what is called No Man's Land, but
fortunately it was covered with trees most of which had not yet been
destroyed by shell-fire. Ghond, who did not know French or German and
whose knowledge of English was confined to three words, "yes," "no,"
and "very well," was now left to find a German ammunition dump in a
forest, accompanied only by a pigeon fast asleep under his coat.
First of all he had to remind himself that he was in a country of the
cold Himalayan climate where, during the winter, trees stood bare and
the ground was covered with dry autumn leaves and frost. Since there
was very little foliage on tree or sapling, concealment of himself
proved not an easy task. The night was dark and cold as a corpse, but
since he could see in the dark better than any living man, and because
his sense of smell was as keen as the keenest of all animals, he knew
how to steer his course in No Man's Land. Fortunately that night the
wind was from the east.
Edging his way between tree trunks, he pushed forward as fast as
possible. His nose told him minutes before their arrival that a company
of Germans was passing his way. Like a leopard he crawled up a tree
and waited. They never heard even the flicker of a sound. Had it been
daylight they would have found him, for his bare feet bled as he walked
on the frost-stricken ground, leaving distinct marks behind.
Once he had a very close shave. As he went up a tree and sat on a
branch to let a couple of German sentries pass below him, he heard
someone whisper from a branch into his ear. He knew at once that it was
a German sharp-shooter. But he bent his head and listened. The German
said: "Guten nacht," then stepped over and slid down the tree. No doubt
he had taken Ghond for one of his fellow soldiers who had come to
relieve him. After a while Ghond descended to the ground and followed
the footprint of that German. Dark though it was, his bare feet could
feel where the ground had been worn down by the feet of man. No
difficult task that for him.
At last he reached a place where a lot of men were bivouacking. He
had to skirt around them softly, still pressing forward. He heard a
strange noise right at his feet. He stopped and listened. No mistake,
this was a familiar sound! He waited. The steps of an animal, "Patter
pat, patter-r-r!" Ghond moved towards the sound and a suppressed growl
ensued. Instead of fear, joy gripped his heart. He who had spent nights
at a time in the tiger-infested jungles of India was not to be deterred
by the growl of a wild dog. Soon enough two red eyes greeted his
vision. Ghond sniffed the air before him carefully as he stood there
and lo! he could not detect there was the slightest odour of man about
that dog; the creature had gone wild. The dog too was sniffing the air
to find out what kind of a being he was facing, for Ghond did not exude
the usual human odour of fear and so he came forward and rubbed against
him and sniffed vigorously. Fortunately Ghond carried Gay-Neck above
the dog's nose and the odour of the bird's presence was carried up by
the wind, so the wild dog perceived in the man before him nothing
but a friendly fearless fellow. He wagged his tail and whined. Ghond,
instead of patting his head with his hand, slowly put it before the
dog's eyes to see and smell. A moment of suspense followed. Was the
dog going to bite the hand? Another moment passed. Then ... the dog
licked it. He now whined with pleasure. Ghond said to himself: "So this
hunter's dog is without a master. Probably his master is dead. The poor
beast has become wild as a wolf. He lives by preying on the food supply
of the German army, for it is evident he has not yet eaten any human
flesh. So much the better."
Ghond whistled softly, the call of all hunters of all ages no matter
in what country. It meant "Lead." And the dog led. He skirted all the
bivouacs of the German soldiers as deftly as a stag slips by a tiger's
den. After hours of wandering, they reached their destination. There
was no mistake about it; Ghond had found the very depôt not only of
munitions but also of German food supplies. His leader, the wild dog,
went through a secret hole in the ground, then after half an hour
emerged with a large leg of veal between his jaws. That it was bovine
meat Ghond could tell by its odour. The dog sat down to his dinner on
the frosty ground, while the man put on his boots, which he had carried
slung over his shoulder all night long, and then looked up and took
observations. By the position of the stars he could tell where he was.
He waited there some time.
Slowly the day began to break. He took out a compass from his pocket.
Yes, he felt quite sure that he could draw a map of the place. Just
then the dog jumped up and grabbed Ghond's coat with his teeth. There
was no doubt in his mind that the dog wanted to lead him on again. He
ran ahead, and Ghond followed as fast. Soon they reached a spot so
thickly covered with thorns and frozen vines that passage through it
was possible only for an animal. The dog crawled under a lot of sharp
thorns and disappeared.
Now Ghond drew a diagram showing the position of the stars, and the
exact position of his compass, and tied both to Gay-Neck's foot, and
let him go. He watched the pigeon fly from tree to tree, resting on
each for a minute or so, and preening his wings. Then he struck the
message tied to his foot with his beak--probably he was making sure
that it was securely tied, flew up to the top of the tallest tree,
and sat there examining the lay of the land. That moment Ghond, who
was looking up, felt something pull him. He looked down at his feet;
the dog was dragging him to a hole under the thorns. He bent low, low
enough to follow his mentor's direction, but at that moment he heard
the flutter of wings overhead, then the barking of rifles. He had no
desire to get up and investigate whether Gay-Neck had been killed or
not. He crawled down under the thorns till he felt as if his stomach
were glued against his backbone, and both sewed tightly to the ground.
He pushed and crawled till suddenly he slid down, falling about eight
feet into a dark hole. It was pitch dark, but Ghond hardly noticed that
at first, for he was occupied in rubbing his bruised head.
When finally he tried to discover where he was he made out that he
must be sitting on a frozen water-hole covered like a thieves' den
by impenetrable thorn-bushes. Even in winter when no leaf clad the
branches and vines overhead, the darkness in daytime was thick there.
The dog was still with him and had evidently dragged him there to
safety. The poor beast was so happy to have a friend with him that he
wanted to play by the hour with Ghond, but the latter, being sleepy,
dozed off into perfect slumber in spite of the noise of the guns not
very far away.
After about three hours the dog suddenly whined and then yelled as
if he was stricken with madness, after which the earth rocked under
terrific sounds of explosion. Unable to bear it, the animal kept
tugging the sleeve of Ghond's coat. The detonations rose crescendo
upon crescendo till the place where Ghond lay literally swayed like a
cradle but he would not leave his hiding. All he said to himself was:
"O! Gay-Neck, thou incomparable bird, how well thou hast done thy task.
Already thou hast borne the message to the cherry-faced chief, and this
is his thunderous reply. O! thou pearl amongst winged creatures!" So
on he mumbled while the bombs dropped by aeroplanes ignited the German
munition dump.
Then the dog, who had been trying to pull him away by the sleeve of
his coat, whined and shivered like one in high fever and that instant
something sizzled through the air and fell nearby with a thud. With
a desperate yell the poor dog dashed out of his hiding place. Ghond
followed. But too late. For hardly had he crept half way under the
thorns than an ear-splitting explosion seemed to cut the ground from
under him; and a violent pain pierced his shoulder. He felt borne up by
some demoniac power and flung to the ground with great force. Scarlet
diamonds of light danced before his eyes for a few moments, followed by
quenching darkness.
An hour later when he regained consciousness the first thing that he
became aware of was a sound of Hindusthani voices. In order to hear
his native language more distinctly he tried to raise his head. That
instant he felt a shooting pain like the sting of a thousand cobras.
There was no doubt in his mind now that he had been hit and probably
mortally wounded. All the same his soul rejoiced every time he heard
Hindusthani spoken near him, for that meant that Indian troops, and
not the enemy, were in possession of the forest now. "Ah," he said to
himself, "my task is accomplished. I can die in peace."