remember; though to be sure when it came to be a matter of danger they
seemed to forget all about being in charge and cleared off as fast as
they could. I soon got to know that the herd was very proud of me."
"I should think they would be, my big beauty," cried Magh, patting his
forehead affectionately.
"You see," continued Hathi, "these white and pink spots all over my
neck and ears were a sign that great luck had come to the herd. Even
the Men-kind--but that, of course, I discovered years after at
Ava--even the Men-kind looked upon me as sacred, being a White
Elephant. Besides, I had but the one tusk, the right, and that is why I
am Ganesh, the Holy One.
"We wandered about in the Jungle, and when we Babe Elephants were
tired, the whole herd waited until we had rested and fed. That's why
the Bulls had nothing to do with leading the herd. They knew little of
what a calf could stand, so Mah, my Mother, always gave the signal when
we were to start or stop. I think she was very proud of being the
mother of the lucky Calf.
"But it was a lovely land to dwell in; all hills and valleys with
plenty of cover; and down in the flat lands the Men grew raji and rice,
and plantains.
"I think there must be some very wise animal who arranges all these
things--puts each one in the Jungle he likes best. Pardus was happy in
his hills, and White Chita liked the snow mountains, and Yellow Leopard
the rice fields; and Mooswa has told me when we've talked together,
that on the far side of his lands are the loveliest spruce forests any
Moose could wish to live in."
"Perhaps it was Sa'-zada or one of his kind," ventured Muskwa, the
Bear.
"It is God who arranges it," declared the Keeper, in a soft voice.
"I don't know who that may be," muttered Hathi, "but I thought there
was someone. Such a lovely Jungle it was; tall teak trees and pinkado,
and Telsapa from which the Men-kind drew oil for their fires.
"For days, and weeks, and months it would be hot and dry; and then
three times the big flower would come out on the padouk tree, and all
the Elephants would laugh and squeal with their trunks, for they knew
the rain would surely come. Yes, when we could see for the third time a
big cluster of flowers, patter, patter on the leaves we could hear the
rain, and soon drip, drip, drip, trickle it would come down on our
backs, washing the dust and little sticks out of every wrinkle until
even the old Bulls would commence to play like Calves.
"We finally came to a big river early in the morning, and every one
went in for a wash. Mind, I was only a babe about the size of a
Buffalo. The old ones lay down in the river, just keeping their trunks
out to breathe, and I thought to do the same, of course; but when I
flopped over on my side--bad footing! there was nothing anywhere but
soft, slippery water--there was quite a thousand miles of it, and dark
as the blackest night. I could see nothing, hear nothing only the
angry talk of the water that ran fast. They said that I screamed like a
young pig. Then something strong grabbed me by the hind leg, and pulled
me out up on the bank--it was Mah. She scolded roundly. Then she
spanked me good and hard.
"All that season I was not allowed to go in the water again. Mah washed
me down with her trunk, squirting the water over me.
"The eating was sweet in those Jungles; but best of all I liked the
young plantains when they were just beyond the blossom age, all wrapped
up in a big leaf, and juicy, and sweet.
"The first happening was from an evil-minded Bagh (tiger). That evening
I had wandered a little to one side, not knowing it, and Bagh, with a
fierce word in his big throat, jumped full on my head. Of course I
screamed----"
"Like a Pig," interjected Boar.
"Like a Babe Hathi," corrected Elephant. "And Mah, who had been looking
for me, just in the nick of time threw Bagh many yards into the Jungle
with her trunk. I don't know how other animals get along without a
trunk; it seems just suited for every purpose.
[Illustration: "THEN SOMETHING STRONG GRABBED ME BY THE HIND LEG, AND
PULLED ME ..."]
"The next happening was worse, for it came from the Men-kind. It was a
hot, hot day. We were all standing on a hill in the shade of trees,
flapping our ears to keep the flies off, when suddenly Old Bull kinked
his head sideways, whistled softly through his trunk, and we all
stopped flapping to listen. Even Calf as I was, I knew there was some
danger near. In the wind there was nothing--nothing unusual, just the
sweet scent of the tiny little white flowers that grow close to the
short grass. But Old Bull was afraid; he gave a signal for us to move,
and we started.
"In a minute there was an awful cracking like the breaking of a tree,
only different, and we all ran here, there, everywhere. Of course since
that, having been taken in the hunt by the Men-kind, I know it was a
gun, as they call it.
"Old Bull charged straight for a little white cloud that rose from
where the noise had been; then crack! crack! crack! the guns trumpeted
all over the Jungle--but I won't tell any more of that happening,
because Old Bull was killed; and Mah, too--though the Men-kind said
afterwards, so I've heard, that it was a mistake, as they only killed
Bulls, being white hunters, for the sake of the feet and tusks.
"It was late in the evening before the herd gathered again, and we
traveled far, fearing the evil of the Men-kind."
"Was there no evil with your own people?" queried Wolf. "Just feeding,
and nothing else?"
"Well," answered Hathi, hesitatingly, "sometimes in a herd there grows
up one who is a 'Rogue.' We had one such, I remember. But that also
came about because of the Men-kind--a yellow man. It was a Hill-man,
and when this Rogue of whom I speak--he also was a Bull--was just full
grown, a matter of perhaps twenty years, this Hill-man thrust into his
head, from a distance, too, being seated in a tree, an arrow.
"The arrow remaining there as it did, caused this Bull to become of an
evil temper. Quarreling, quarreling always, butting his huge head into
a comrade because of a mere nothing; and with his tusks putting his
mark on many of us without cause; sometimes it would be a kick from his
forefoot, or a slap of his trunk. When we were near to the places of
the Men-kind he would wallow in the rice fields, and pull up the young
plantain trees by the roots, even knock the queer little houses they
lived in to pieces, for they were but of bamboo and leaves. Of course
the dwellers ran for their lives, and sometimes brought fire, and made
noise with their guns, and beat gongs to frighten him away.
"Many times we drove him forth from the herd; and sometimes he stayed
away himself for days, sulky. In the end we lost him altogether, and we
were all glad; but strange as it may appear, I saw him again in Rangoon
in the timber yards. That was after I was caught."
"Tell us about that happening," pleaded Sa'-zada, "for it is even not
written in The Book."
"I was taken in a manner full of deceit, and because I had faith in
those of my own kind. I was, perhaps, fifteen or twenty years old at
the time--but in a Hathi's life a year or two is of no moment, for we
are long-lived--and what might be called second in charge of the herd,
a condition of things which I resented somewhat, but the Herd Bull had
been leader while I was growing up, so there was no just claim on my
part really.
"And it happened in our wanderings that we came not far from the
greatest of all the Men's places in that land, Ava (Mandalay). One day
as I was pulling down the young bamboos and stripping the feathered
top, a strange _Hathni_ (female elephant) came to me and put her trunk
softly on my neck. She was all alone, and I felt sorry for her;
besides, she was nice--showed me such lovely places for good feeding. I
spent a whole day with her, and the next day, too, and as we went
through the jungle, suddenly we came to a sort of immense, strong
_hauda_. It wasn't a bit like the Men's _haudas_ that they live in,
else I should never have been deceived; great trunks of trees growing
up out of the ground straight, and close together, but no branches or
leaves to them; as square on top as the end of my leg. This
queer-looking jungle thing troubled me. 'What is it?' I asked Hathni.
"'It's my home,' she replied; 'come in, Comrade.'"
"And of course the woman had her way," remarked Sa'-zada; "you went
into the parlor, Hathi, old chap, I suppose."
"Not by that name knew I it, Sa'-zada; they called it a Keddah, as I
found out. But I went in."
"And was caged," laughed Black Chita.
"Inside," continued Hathi, "was a winding path, and Hathni trotted down
this so fast that I lost her. A great wooden gate dropped behind me,
and I knew that I was in a trap. It was a big place, but no openings to
get out.
"Then the Men-kind showed their yellow faces all over the walls, just
like _Hanumen_--the gray-whiskered Monkey of those parts.
"'A White Elephant at last, at last!' they cried; 'now will the King be
pleased.'
"I was left alone that night, but the next day the Men-kind came with
two ruffianly Bulls of my kind who bunted and bustled me about, and
fought me, while the men slipped great strong ropes over my legs. In a
week I was that tired and sore from this treatment that I was ready to
go any place. Then I was taken to Ava; and such doings! I dislike to
tell it all; it's hardly modest.
"They put a silk covering over me to keep the Flies off, and a garland
of white jasmine flowers about my neck--sweet-smelling flowers they
were; in my ears two big red stones of the ruby kind were placed; and
always as I walked a great silk umbrella was over my head. And as for
eating--humpf, humpf, humpf! they just made me ill with sweets to be
eaten out of gold dishes."
[Illustration: "TWO RUFFIANLY BULLS ... FOUGHT ME WHILE THE MEN SLIPPED
GREAT STRONG ROPES OVER MY LEGS."]
"Is this a true tale, O Sa'-zada?" queried Black Leopard. "For one of
the jungle folk it is a strange happening."
"It is true," replied the Keeper; "that was the way with the White
Elephant at the Burma King's court, it is written in another book I
have read."
"And no one was allowed to ride on my back but the King," declared
Hathi, "excepting, of course, the Mahout. As I walked I was afraid of
stepping on some one; the Men-kind were forever flopping down on their
knees to worship me. It was this way for years; then one season there
came war; great guns spoke with a roar louder than Bagh's; and vast
herds of the white-faced Men-kind came, letting free the blood of the
yellow-faced ones; and in the end I was taken away, and sent down to
Rangoon, and put to work in the timber yards. There was no worship, and
few sweetmeats, and for silk covering I was given a harness with
leather collar and chain traces. It was like being back in the jungle
again--I was just a common Hathi, only I was called there Raj Singh.
"It was at that time I met the Bull who was a Rogue. He was also
working in the timber yards, but it had done him much good--his temper
was improved."
"Was it kind treatment cured him?" asked Sa'-zada.
"No," replied Hathi; "they whipped him into a gentle behavior. Two big
Bulls with heavy iron chains swinging from their trunks thrashed him
until he promised to cease making trouble. But one day he broke out
bad, and smashed everything--tore the Master's dogcart to pieces,
knocked the Cooly's _haudas_ down, and trumpeted like an evil jungle
spirit. He even killed his Mahout, which was a silly thing, though he
declared his driver, the Mahout, sitting up on his back, one foot on
either side, had prodded viciously at his head until poor Rogue's blood
was on fire.
"But in the end they sent me away to Sa'-zada, and I am quite content";
and reaching his big trunk over to the Keeper, Hathi caressed the
latter's cheek lovingly.
"Oh, we are all content," declared Magh; "for Sa'-zada is a kind and
gentle Master."
"Now, all to your cages and your pens," cried the Keeper, "for it is
late. To-morrow night, perhaps, we shall have the tale of Gidar, the
Jackal."
Third Night
The Stories of Gidar, the Jackal, and Coyote, the Prairie Wolf
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
THIRD NIGHT
THE STORIES OF GIDAR, THE JACKAL, AND COYOTE, THE PRAIRIE WOLF
"To-night," commenced Sa'-zada, "we are to have the interesting life
story of the two half-brothers, Gidar and Coyote."
"A thief's tale of a certainty," chuckled Magh.
"In my land, which was Burma, there were none so useful as we," began
Gidar. "Not of high repute our mission, perhaps, but still useful,
being scavengers; and to this end we are all born with a fair appetite;
but useful always, even Bagh knows that. I was Lieutenant to one of his
kind--a great killer he was--for a matter of two years. Then he came by
way of a dispute with the Men-kind, and they finished him in short
order.
"Now, you know, Brothers, our kind have steadily worked southward from
India, pushing into new lands from all time, even like the Sahibs,
until we are now half down through Burma. It must be a dull land that
has not our sweet song at night. If there were but a Pack here now we'd
sing you a rare chorus."
"I've heard the song," quoth Bagh; "it's wretched."
"How goes it?" asked Wolf. "Our Pack has a cry of great strength; the
'bells of the forest,' the Redmen call it."
"It's somewhat this way," said Jackal, and sitting on his haunches he
raised his long, sharp nozzle high in air, stretching his lean throat
toward the moon that glinted fretfully through the swaying trees; and
on the still, quiet night air floated his cry of far-off India:
"'_Oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-o-o-o-o-o!
I smell a dead Hindoo-oo!_'
"That would be my cry, Brothers. Then from all quarters of the jungle
the Pack would take up the song and sing back:
"'_Where, where, where, where, where, where?_'
"And I would answer back cheerily:
"'_Here, here, here, here, here, here!_'
"Then all together we would sing with all our lungs:
"'_Oo-oo-oo-o-o-o-o-h
Mussulman or Hind-oo?
Here, there, or anywhere,
All flesh is flesh, we do not care._'"
"A charming song," sneered Magh.
"Ah, I cannot give it right; you should have heard it, little
Eater-of-sour-fruit, in the dead closeness of a Burman jungle, from the
many throats of a hungry Pack.
"The people of that land liked the song full well, and they never
molested us. But life was one continuous struggle for food. We were not
slayers like Chita, or Bagh, or Python; or stealers of crops like Boar
and Rogue Hathi; almost as simple in our way of life as Mooswa.
"I remember once a fat Dog-pup of the Terrier kind, which I bagged. It
was all the fault of the Pup's master; he tried to kill me."
"You had probably been singing to him," said Sa'-zada.
"We had, I admit," answered Jackal. "It was on Borongo Island; two men,
Sahibs they were called there, you know, lived in a bungalow built on
high posts, after the manner of all houses in that land. The bungalow
was built on the shore, and every day the water came up under it, and
then went back again. This was a most wise arrangement of the water's
traveling, for it threw up many a dead Fish and Crab for our eating.
"Well I remember the cook-house was a little to one side from the
bungalow, with a poor, ill-conditioned bamboo door to it. Regularly,
doing our scavenger work, we used to clean up that cook-house, eating
everything the servant-kind had not devoured. Several times I made a
great find in that very place, for the cook, it appears, was a most
forgetful fellow. When there was nothing left for us in the way of
food, we'd carry off the pots and pans into the jungle grass; why, I
hardly know, but it seemed proper to do so.
"Neither do I know which of the Pack first started singing under the
bungalow; but this also afforded us much content. Many hours on in the
dark we'd all steal gently down from the jungle, and gather under the
house. Then, as one, we'd give voice to the hunger cry together, until
even the Sahibs would shout in fear. It was good to make the Men-kind
afraid; but also we would flee swiftly, for the two Sahibs would rush
out like a jackal that had suddenly become possessed of much poisoned
meat, and 'bang, bang, bang' with the guns.
"I had much to do with Men, and just when I thought they were full
cross because of our serenade, what was my surprise to find each
evening a full measure of rice put in a certain place for me. 'It is
full of the datura' (poison), I thought, and watched while a lean
Pariah Dog from the village ate it. But there was nothing wrong with
it. So the next evening I made haste to get a full share of it myself.
As I ate, hurriedly I must say, twang-g! came a mighty Boar-spear.
"But only the shaft of it struck my back, so I made off with great
diligence. I heard the Sahib say as he picked up the spear, 'Missed
him, by Jove!' You see, he had been hiding in a corner of the bungalow.
But I was hungry, and the rice was good--most delicious--so I crept
back with two comrades, and keeping to the thick grass, stalked the
bungalow most carefully. I saw the Sahibs all at their eating, for the
door was open, it being hot; you see, he thought I wouldn't come back
so soon.
"'I will eat with you,' I said, and made straight for the rice; but it
was nearly all gone; the Terrier Pup of which I have spoken, and which
belonged to this very Sahib who had thrown the spear, was just
finishing his Master's bait.
"'Oh, you wicked Dog!' I said, 'to steal my supper this way,' and
knowing that his master was in the habit of throwing spears at that
very spot, I picked him up and carried him to the jungle for safety.
"'Oh, oh E-u-u-h!' how he squealed, and the Men-kind left their eating,
and came rushing after us with much shouting, but it was dark and they
had no chance of catching us."
"And you ate the poor little fellow?" asked Mooswa.
"Horrible!" cried Magh, "to eat a Dog."
"Not at all bad stuffed with rice, I assure you," declared Gidar. "For
a day or two I kept more or less out of the way; I was afraid the
Sahibs might be very angry.
"It was two nights after this I discovered more rice some distance from
the bungalow in a pail which was sunk in the ground, and over this
stood a couple of posts that had not been there before. I remembered
that, so I sat by quietly watching this new thing, and trying to decide
what it might be.
"Now the Sahibs had two pigs, and as I watched, along came these two,
grunting, and shoving things about with their long noses, and presently
one of them discovered the rice in the pail.
"'Ugh, ugh, ugh!' said he, 'just a mouthful of this will do me good.'
You know, of course, a pig eats first and thinks after, so in this case
he plunged his big head in the pail, and 'zip! whang!' went something,
and before I could jump to my feet he was dangling in the air hung by
the neck; he didn't even have a chance to squeal. Of course his mate
took to his heels and cleared out, while I finished the rice, knowing
the evil was in the custody of my Squeaker friend. In the morning the
Pig was dead."
"It's a fine thief's tale," commented Magh, "but in the end they caught
you right enough."
"Not there," corrected Gidar; "that was another place. A Sahib who had
come to the jungle seeking dwellers for such places as this, made the
taking; but with him one might as well be caught first as last, for he
knew more of our ways than we knew of his. Now let Coyote speak; I am
tired."
"Does Coyote come from Burma, too, O Sa'-zada?" queried Magh.
"No, he's from Mooswa's country; from the great plains away in the far
West. There is not much in The Book about Coyote; that is, not much
that's good."
"I knew it," laughed Magh; "I've watched him there in his cage which is
opposite mine, day after day, and I never saw a smile on his face."
"You should be put in the cage with Hyena," declared Coyote, "if you
think an animal has got to grin all the time to be of fair nature. Or
of what use are you, little pot-belly, or the whole of your
tribe--Hanuman, Hooluk, or Chimpanzee--none of you worth the nuts you
eat; and yet you're always grinning and chattering, and playing fool
tricks about the cage. You're a fine one to judge your fellow
creatures."
"Coyote just sits there and scratches Fleas, and growls, and snaps at
his mate--he's a low-born sort of Wolf," continued Magh.
"He's not of our kind," declared Wolf; "it's all a lie."
"Never mind, never mind," cried Sa'-zada, "no doubt like all the rest
of us he has his good and bad qualities."
"I was once starving," resumed Coyote. "You who have lived in a warm
land where something is growing all the year round, know nothing of the
hunger that comes when the fierce blizzard blots out everything, and
there is only snow, snow, everywhere. Can one eat snow? It's all very
fine for you with a paunch full of candy to sit there and prate about
stealing, but if Wie-sak-ke-chack puts the hunger pains in one's
stomach and the fat bacon--Ghurr-h-h! but the juice of it is sweet when
one is near dead--puts the fat bacon behind log walls, what is one to
do, eh? Does a fellow dig, dig, dig through earth so hard that he must
bite it out with his teeth, dig deep under the log walls for sport as
the Cubs play in the sunshine, or just to steal? Bah, you who have
never known hunger know not of this thing. Why, once when the ground
was frozen hard, and I was dying inch by inch, some fierce-toothed
Animal inside me biting, biting--only of course it was the hunger
chewing at my stomach--I dove fair through the window of a log shack to
get at the meat inside. The glass cut me, to be sure, but that was
nothing to the hunger pain that goes on, on, never ceasing until there
is food, or one is dead.
"I saved a man's life once at a post called Stand-Off. The place came
by its name in the days of a mighty fight when my Man and his comrades
stood off the Mounted Police. These Men had been given as bad a name as
Coyotes even. My Man may have been bad, too; but how was I to know,
being only a Coyote? He was always throwing me bones and pieces of
bread, and whistling to me, and calling me Jack.
"Now this place Stand-Off was on the river flat, and one night in
spring-time I heard a great flood coming down the Belly River. It was a
still night, and the noise of the rushing water came to my ears for
miles, but the Men heard it not, for they were all in the Shacks. Fast
I galloped down over the flat near to the Shack where was this Man who
had often thrown me a bone. I whimpered, and whistled, and barked the
danger call, and howled the death-coming song, and finally my friend
came to the door and threw a stick of wood at me, and spoke fierce
oaths. Then he shut the door. I could hear the roaring getting louder
and louder, and knew that soon it would be too late for all the
Men-kind; not that I cared, except for this one. On one side of the
town was the swift-running Belly River, and beyond a high-cut bank; on
my side was the flat land that would soon be many feet deep with ice
and rushing water. So I howled louder than ever, and he came out and
strove to kill me with a Firestick, but I only ran a little piece into
the darkness, and howled again.
"Being a Man of much temper he chased me, and the noise brought out the
others, for they thought it was Indians. I sought to lead him over to
the side of the flat land which was next the sloping hill, knowing full
well that the new water would flow there first.
"All at once he ceased running behind me, and I, who was listening,
knew that he scarce breathed he was that still. Now, he will hear it,
I thought; and in an instant I heard him cry to the others: 'Boys, we
must pull out from this--there's a devil of a freshet coming.' That was
the way of the Men from Stand-Off; many strange words of a useless
need.
"I tell you, Comrades, it was soon an awful night; here and there the
Men ran trying to save something--their Horses and guns for most part,
even some of the evil firewater; and the strong swearings they used
sounded but just as the whimpering of Wolf Pups, the wind was that
fierce, carrying the dreadful roar of the Chinook flood.
"You who have heard Bagh and Hathi scolding at each other, with perhaps
Black Panther and Bald Eagle taking part, may know somewhat the like of
that night's noises.
"Seeing that my Man was coming riding swiftly on his Cayuse, I, too,
ran quickly for the upland; but, as I have said, just in the hollow
which was there, being the trail where once had run the river, the
flood was rushing even as I have seen it in the foot-hills--the flat
land was surrounded.
"As the Men galloped up they stopped, and spoke evil words at the
flood, rushing up and down looking for a ford. I also was afraid to
cross.