many Musk-Ox. I know the way of the White Men--they come here but for
the shedding of blood.'
"But one night, being close to the edge of starvation, seeing one of
the Huskies come forth from the tepee, not knowing what I did--Ghur-rh!
I had him by the throat. Even now as I remember it, perhaps it was
another of the Pack that put his strong jaws on the Dog's gullet--yes,
I think it was another.
"'Ki, yi-i-i-i! E-e-eh!' he whined.
"'Buh!' loud the Firestick barked as the White Man smote at the Pack
with it.
"After a manner there was some eating that night, what with the Huskie
and three of our kind the Man slew with the Firestick."
"Cannibal!" exclaimed Magh in disgust.
"It was to save our lives," exclaimed Oohoo. "At last the White Man
came to a herd of Musk-Ox; but what think you of the temper Black Wolf
had when he saw that the Men-kind were not for making a big Kill at
all; just the matter of a Head or two to take back with them."
"Queer taste, sure enough," cried Cockatoo. "Now, if it had been a head
with a crest like mine----"
"Or even if it had been Magh's head," insinuated Pardus.
"Eu-wh, eu-u-u-h! to think that a Pack of famished Wolves had trailed
so far through the snow, holding back from a Kill of the Men-kind, and
to get--nothing! True, the Men killed for their own eating and the
Dogs', but what was that to a whole Pack? Buh-h-h! even now it makes me
laugh when I think of the manner we tore down the tepee one night, for
the Men had taken the eating inside to keep it from us.
"After that, having learned wisdom, they killed one of these fat
creatures for us each day. Ghurrh! but a bite!
"And from listening beside the tepee at night, I learned that the
Redmen were angry because of the Head-taking. These Forest-Dwellers
think, Comrades, that if they sell or give away the head of a Kill all
their strength in the hunt will depart."
"It's a wondrous good thing to believe, too," declared Coyote. "Many an
honest meal I've come by when I was woefully hungry through the matter
of a head stuck on a pole, or stump, as a gift to Matchi-Manitou. I
remember one particularly fat head of Muskwa--I mean--but you were
saying, Brother Oohoo, a most interesting happening of the Musk-Ox when
I interrupted you."
"So, when the Redmen knew that it was heads their White Comrade was
after, they were filled with anger, and a fear of the wrath of Manitou;
they declared that something of an evil nature would happen to them if
he took from that land the Heads. And, would you believe it, Comrades,
whether there was truth in the power of this Head-matter or not, I am
unable to say, being but Oohoo the Wolf, but two days from that time,
as they journeyed back toward the Big Water, they fell in with a large
Herd of the round-nosed Musk-Ox, and the Wind wrath came upon them. The
Redmen, thinking to stop the taking of Heads, talked to the
Moss-eaters in a loud voice, as though they were men, bidding them go
far over the Barren Lands and tell all the other Musk-Ox to keep away,
for here was a taker of Heads. But the White Man only laughed, and
killed a Bull Leader who had a beautiful long black beard, swearing
that such a Head was a prize indeed.
"Comrades, perhaps there is someone looking over the lives of Animals
who has power with the Wind and the White Storm. Of this I know not,
but it is a true tale that even as he cut the head from the dead
Moss-eater, such a storm as had not been in the memory of any Dweller
came with the full fury of a hungry Wolf Pack down upon that land. Like
Pups of one litter all of us Wolves huddled together, pulling the cover
of our tails over our noses to keep the heat in. We waited; and moved
not that day, nor that night, nor the next day, nor the night after
that again. Bitter as the storm was, I almost laughed at Black Wolf's
lament. 'Now the men will be dead and lost to us when we might have had
them,' he kept whimpering; 'there will be no more killing of Musk-Ox,
and we shall go hungry.'
"As we crawled out when the storm ceased, our Leader went to where the
snow was rounded up a little higher than the rest. 'Here is the
Musk-Ox,' said Black Wolf; 'let us eat.'
"I remember, as we dug at the snow there was a strong scent of Man. 'It
is the Hunter dead, I think,' Black Wolf said, poking his nose down
into the snow.
"But all at once, 'Buh!' came a hoarse call from the Firestick, and
Black Wolf, our Leader, 'E-e-he-uh!' fell over backward, dead. Then I
knew what it was. The Huntman had cut open the Musk-Ox, and crawling
inside, had kept his life warm through the fierce storm. But the Redmen
had gone. Whether they had died because of the storm, or trailed away
because of the Head-taking, I know not; but there they were not. Close
curled against the Musk-Ox had lain the Hunter's three Dogs, and they,
too, were alive.
"Then commenced such a trail of a Man, Comrades, as I, Wolf though I
am, never wish to see again. E-u-uh! eu-u-uh! but it was dreadful, for
in his face there was the Fear Look that Hathi has spoken of. Night and
day it was there, I think, for he dared not sleep as he hurried back
toward the Big Water. Being without a Leader, we were like a lot of
Monkeys, fighting and jangling amongst ourselves. Some were for killing
him, but others said, 'Wait, surely he will make a kill of Musk-Ox
again, and then we shall have eating--what is one Man to a Wolf Pack in
the way of food?'
"That day, coming up with a Herd, he shot two of the Moss-eaters, and,
as we ate of them, he trailed to the South; but that availed him
little, Comrades, for the swing of a Wolf's going is like the run of a
river; and when he camped that night we also camped there. And the next
day, and the next, it was the same; the Huntman pushing on with tiring
walk striving for his life, and, behind the Pack--some howling for a
Kill of the Man, and some fighting to save him that we might have
greater eating.
"It was the last day before we came to the Big Water. That day, being
full famished, for we had passed the land of the Musk-Ox--though to be
sure he had killed two Caribou for us--we ate his Dogs, and he was
fleeing on foot.
"I must say, Comrades, though I lay no claim to a sweet nature, yet I
wished not to make a Kill of the Man. But five times, as I remember it,
some of the Pack, eager for his life, closed in on him; and five times
with the Firestick he slew many of my Wolf Brethren. Comrades, he made
a brave fight to reach the shack."
"This is a terrible tale," cried Magh, excitedly. "Did he reach the
shack alive, Oohoo?"
"Yes, but would you believe it, Comrades, the White Man who had been
left behind, through being alone and through drinking much Firewater,
had become mad, even as I have seen a Wolf in the time of great heat;
and he knew not his Comrade, the Huntman, but called through the closed
door, 'Go away, go away!'
"'I am Jack,' called the Huntman.
"'Jack is dead!' yelped the Man who was mad. 'He is dead out in the
strong storm, and you are an evil spirit--go away! go away!'
"Oh, Hathi, it was dreadful, dreadful.
"'Let me in, Tom; I am Jack,' pleaded the Huntman who had come so far
through the snow; and, just beyond, we of the Wolf Pack waited, waited,
waited.
"Sa'-zada, the cry of the lone Wolf is not so dreadful as the yelpings
of the Man who was mad. Even we of the Wolf Pack moved back a little
when he called with a fierce voice. And he always answered: 'Go away!
You are an evil spirit. Jack is dead! But I did not kill him--Go away!'
And, Sa'-zada, though it is dreadful, yet it is true, he struck with
his Firestick full through the door, and killed the Man who was Jack.
And in the end he, too, died, and the Wolves buried them both after the
manner of Wolves."
"Chee-hough! it's a terrible tale," said Magh.
"It is true," answered White Wolf; "and all that is the way of my land
which is the Northland.
"In the Hot Time sometimes there are the little red flowers that are
roses, but in the long Cold Time it is as I have said, cold and a land
of much hunger. But it is my land--the Northland."
"Engh-h-hu!" sighed Sher Abi, opening his eyes as though just coming
out of a dream; "I had an experience one time very much like that,
Brother Wolf."
[Illustration: "'LET ME IN, TOM; I AM JACK,' PLEADED THE HUNT MAN."]
"Of a snow storm, Sher Abi?" queried Mooswa, doubtingly.
"No, my solemn friend, I know nothing of snow; I speak of having a Man
inside of one. As Sa'-zada has said, I think it's quite possible, and
I'm sure they must rest nice and warm, too."
"Did a Man cut you open, Magar?" sneered Magh.
"No, little Old Woman, he did not; he was busy that day taking off your
tail for stealing his plantains."
"Tell us about it, Magar," lisped Python. "Wolf's tale of his snow-land
makes me shiver."
"There is not much to tell," murmured Sher Abi, regretfully. "It was
all over in a few minutes, and all an accident, too; and, besides, it
was only one Man. You see, I was sunning myself on a mud bank in
Cherogeah Creek, when I heard 'thomp, thomp, thomp!' which was the
sound of a Boatman's paddle against the side of his log dug-out. I slid
backward into the water, keeping just one eye above it to see what
manner of traveler it might be. It was old Lahbo, a villager who often
went up and down that creek, so I started to swim across, meaning to
come up alongside of his canoe and wish him the favor of Buddha. As you
know, Comrades, all Animals love these Buddhists, for their Master has
taught them not to take the life of any Jungle Dweller.
"As I have said, I was swimming across the creek, when Lahbo, who must
have been asleep, suddenly ran his canoe up on my back. It was such a
light little dug-out, too, quite narrow, and being suddenly startled, I
jumped, and by some means Lahbo's canoe was upset. Poor old Lahbo! How
my heart ached for him when I heard him scream in the water."
"Oh, the evil liar!" whispered Magh in Hathi's ear.
"Hush-h!" whistled Elephant, softly, through his trunk; "Sher Abi was
ever like this; I know him well. It is just his way of boasting; he
knows nobody believes it."
"Poor Lahbo," continued Magar. "I swam quickly to help him, picked him
up tenderly in my jaws, and started for the shore. I would have saved
his life in another minute, but his cries had gone to the ears of some
Villagers, and they were now on the bank of the creek, and with two
Firesticks, also. I was in a terrible fix, Comrades; if I held my head
under water, poor Lahbo would drown; if I held it up, the Village Men
would kill me with the Firestick."
"How did it end, Saver of Life?" asked Pardus. "Did poor Lahbo ask you
to swallow him to save his life?"
"I really can't say what did happen," answered Sher Abi. "To this day
tears come into my eyes when I think of poor Lahbo. And it was all the
fault of the Villagers, for when the Firestick coughed, I think the
Man-fear, that Hathi has spoken of, came over him, for he commenced to
wriggle about so that I couldn't hold him. I was so careful, too, for
my teeth are sharp, and I was afraid of hurting him. But, anyway,
before I knew it, Ee-eh-he! he had slipped down my throat; poor Lahbo!
And do you know, Comrades, I'm a little afraid I'm not done with him
yet, for he had a big two-handed dah (sword) in his waist-band, and I
know that some of the pains I feel at times are due to that; there's
nothing so hard to digest as a Burmese dah. And to this day, Comrades,
sometimes when I'm jumping about it seems to me that bangles and rings
that are inside of me string themselves on that sword--I fancy at times
I can hear them jingle."
"How did you come to have bangles inside of you?" asked Magh most
solicitously.
"Engh-hu! little Moon-face, you make me very tired. If any one tells a
tale you try to put false words into his mouth."
"And bangles," snapped Magh.
"Who spoke of bangles?" asked Sher Abi. "I said not that they were
bangles, but that it was like that--the pains I mean. Perhaps even
Lahbo dropped the dah overboard, for all I know. And look here, little
one, Moon-faced Languar, if you doubt what I say, you may go inside and
see for yourself."
"How came you to this place, Sher Abi?" asked Mooswa. "Did the
Villagers catch you then?"
"Not that time. But once, hearing a Pariah Dog in great distress, I
thought he called to me for aid, even as poor Lahbo had done, so I swam
quickly to lend him help----"
"Poor Dog," jeered Magh.
"But it was all a vile trick of the Men-kind," declared Magar; "though
at the time, not knowing of this, I paid no heed to the matter. There
were two long rows of stakes in the water coming close together at one
end----"
"Lough-hu! I know," murmured Buffalo; "the walls of a stockade."
"Yes," sighed Sher Abi. "And as I pushed through the small end, the
poor Dog being just beyond, and in great distress, a big rope drew
tight about my neck, and before I could so much as object, many of the
Men-kind pulled me out on to the dry land. Then I was sent here to
Sa'-zada."
"Well, well," murmured Hathi, "it seems to me that every Jungle-Dweller
thinks he's badly treated, but judging from all the tales I've heard I
think we've all got our faults--I think we're nearly as bad as the
Men-kind."
"My people are not," objected Buffalo; "we never did harm to anyone."
"Neither did we," exclaimed Mooswa.
"Nor we," added Elk; and soon the clamor became general, all holding
that the Men-kind who killed almost every animal for the sake of
taking its life, and not because they were driven to it by lean
stomachs, were much worse than the Jungle-Dwellers.
"Well, well," decided Hathi, "it seems that most of you are against me,
anyway. I think Buffalo is right in what he says, but some of us have
done much wrong to the Men-kind----"
"Meaning me, of course," ejaculated Wild Boar. "I, who lay no claim to
being good, and who am counted the worst of all Animals, say, with
Buffalo, that the Men-kind have done more harm to me than I to them,
and have been of less benefit to me than I to them."
Then Sa'-zada spoke: "Comrades, this is a question that we can't
settle. If we were all like the Buddhists, and took no life except
because of great need, perhaps it would be better. But now you must all
go back to your cages and corrals to sleep."
Twelfth Night
The Story of Sa'-Zada, "Zoo" Keeper
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
TWELFTH NIGHT
THE STORY OF SA'-ZADA, THE "ZOO" KEEPER
It was the twelfth night of the Sa'-zada stories. For eleven evenings
Tiger, and Leopard, and the others had told of their manner of life,
with more or less relevancy. This night Sa'-zada, the little Master,
was to speak of his jungle and forest experience.
Magh, the Orang, was filled with a joyous anticipation. Perched as
usual on Hathi's broad forehead, she gave expression to little squeaks
of enjoyment.
Once even she stuck out her long, elastic under-lip and broke into the
little jungle song she always had resource to when pleasantly excited:
"Co-oo-oo-oo-oo! Co-wough, wough-oo!" with a rising inflection that
made the listener's ears tingle. She even danced a modest can-can on
Hathi's patient old head.
The Keeper came briskly up the walk, and patting Hathi's trunk
affectionately as it was held out to him, sat on the grass with his
back against Mooswa's side.
"Well, Comrades," he commenced, "before I came to a state of
friendship with the Jungle Dwellers, I was like a great many others of
my kind, and thought the only pleasure to be got from animals was in
killing them."
"It is the beginning of a true talk," commented Pardus.
"And, so, in that time I hunted a great deal," continued Sa'-zada.
"When I first went to Burma to live, my bungalow was just on the edge
of the Jungle, and some of the Dwellers were always forcing their
presence upon me--either Snakes, or Jackals, or Jaruk the Hyena, or the
Bandar-Log; and one night even a Rogue Elephant----"
"Hum-p-p-ph! he should have been prodded with a sharp tusk," commented
Hathi.
"A Rogue Elephant," continued Sa'-zada, "came down and played
basket-ball with my garden and bamboo cook-house. Gidar the Jackal,
with a dozen companions, used to gut my kitchen, and then sit out in
the moonlight and howl at me in derision."
"We sing at night because we can't help it, and not because of ill will
to the Men-kind," corrected Gidar.
"Well, one night, as the Jackals were in the middle of a heavy chorus,
they suddenly ceased; a silence as of death came over everything; it
seemed as though all life had gone miles away from that part of the
country. Then came a hoarse call which shook my little bungalow----"
"I know," interrupted Gidar, "when we stop singing and move away
silently it is to make room for Bagh the Killer. We object to being
seen in the company of a murderer like that."
"Yes, it was Tiger," asserted Sa'-zada, "and two Sahibs, who were my
companions, and, like myself, new to the country, determined to get
him.
"So next evening we took a Goat and tied it just inside the Jungle,
each one of us lying down on the ground at a short distance from our
bait. But the Goat commenced to browse quietly and refused to bleat. I
tried jumping him up and down by the tail and back of his neck, and
he'd bleat just as long as I'd pump. At last I tied him up so that he
stood on his hind legs, and he called then with full vigor. For the
matter of an hour we lay thus, when presently, behind me, I heard the
stealthy step of some huge Jungle Dweller coming for the Goat.
"It was the most deliberate animal I had ever waited for; it seemed
hours that those carefully planted feet had been heading towards the
back of my head. I could see nothing, for I was facing the other way,
and I dared not turn over for fear of frightening the approaching Tiger
away. This is a true tale, Comrades, and I did not like overmuch the
idea of Bagh or Pardus, whichever it might be, pouncing upon me from
behind."
"And they would do it," declared Gidar, "for there is a saying in
their tribe that 'a kill from behind is a kill of skill.'"
"Were you afraid, little Master?" asked Hathi.
"I didn't like it," answered Sa'-zada, evasively.
"I've lain close hid in the Elephant Grass," said Bagh, "when a mighty
drive of the Sahibs was on; and perhaps you felt that time, O Sa'-zada,
even as I did."
"I, too, have heard the Pigstickers galloping, galloping all about a
little _nulla_ where I have sought for safety and the chance of my
life," added Wild Boar, "and it's dreadful. If all the Sahibs could
have known that feeling, even as you did, O Sa'-zada, perhaps they
would hunt us less."
"Perhaps," answered the Keeper; "but I could hear the great animal
creeping, oh, so carefully, step by step, hardly a twig shifting under
his cautious feet--only a little soft rustle of the leaves as they
whispered to the sleepy night air that something of evil was afoot. It
got on my nerves, I must say, for I knew that I had not one chance in a
thousand if Bagh were to spring upon me from behind. A fair fight I did
not mind. I dared not even whisper to my companions, for they were a
short distance from me, lest I should frighten the quarry away. When
the soft-moving feet were within five yards of my head they became
silent, and I felt that the great animal, Bagh or Pardus, or some
other Killer, was crouched ready for a spring.
"One minute, two minutes, an hour--perhaps half the night I seemed
waiting for something to happen. The suspense was dreadful. One of my
comrades had heard the footsteps, too, for I could see his rifle gleam
in the moonlight as he held it ready to fire at sight of the animal.
The strain was so trying that I almost wished Bagh would charge.
"But at last my nerves got the better of me and I turned over on my
face, bringing my Express up to receive the visitor. The noise startled
him, and with a hoarse bark he was off into the Jungle. It was only
little ribbed-faced Barking Deer, who had come out of curiosity to see
what the Goat was making a row about."
Hathi gave a great sigh of relief, for the Little Master's story of
thrilling danger had worked him up to a pitch of excited interest.
"I remember a little tale of a happening," said Arna the Buffalo. "We
were a herd of at least twenty, lying in a bit of nice, soft muddy
land, for it was a wondrous hot day, I remember, when suddenly right
through the midst of us walked a Sahib, and with him was one of the
Black Men-kind. By his manner I knew that he had not seen us, being
half-buried as we were in the _jhil_. Just beyond where we rested was a
plain of the dry grass Eating, and to that our enemies the Men passed.
Comrades, the method of our doing you know, when there is danger. If
it is far away, and we see it, we go quickly from its presence, as is
right for all Jungle Dwellers; but should it come suddenly close upon
us we fight with a strength that even Bagh dreads.
"As I have said, seeing the Sahib so close, our Leader sprang up and
snorted in anger. Now Bagh, when he is in an evil temper, roars loudly;
but we, being people of little voice, trusting more to our horns than
to noise, only call 'Eng-ugh!' before we charge. So, when our Leader
called twice, we rushed out into the field where was this Sahib. I
remember well, the Black man ran with great speed across the Plain, but
the Sahib faced us. In his eyes there was a look such as I have seen in
the eyes of another Bull when I have challenged him, and it was a
question whether we should fight or not.
"But fear came not to this Man," added Arna, decidedly, "for as we
raced down upon him, he smote at us with his Firestick, and taking the
cover that was on his head----"
"His helmet," suggested Sa'-zada.
"The cover in his hand," proceeded Arna, "charged full at us, calling
us evil names in a loud voice. I know not which of us turned in his
gallop, but certain it is that the herd passed on either side of the
Man and he was not hurt."
"But did you not turn and trample him?" asked Boar.
"No," answered Arna; "when we charge we charge, and there's an end of
it."
"That is also our way," concurred Bagh, "except, perhaps, when we are
struck by the Firestick, then sometimes we turn and charge back."
"By-the-memory-of-honey!" said Muskwa the Bear, "I should like to hear
a tale from Sa'-zada of my people."
"Well," declared the Keeper, "there was a happening in connection with
Muskwa's cousin, Grizzly, that makes me tremble--I mean, calls up
rather unpleasant memories to this day."
"I'm glad of that--Whuf! glad we're to have the story," corrected
Muskwa, apologetically.
"It was in the Rocky Mountains," began Sa'-zada, "in the South Kootenay
Pass. I was after Big Horn, the Mountain Sheep, with two Comrades, and
a guide called Eagle Child, when we saw a big Grizzly coming down the
side of a mountain called the Camel's Back.
"Now, Eagle Child was a man very eager to do big things, so, almost
without asking my consent, he laid out the whole plan of campaign. On
the side of the Camel's Back Mountain grew a spruce forest, and through
this snow avalanches had ploughed roadways, from top to bottom, looking
like the streets of a city. Eagle Child called to me as he forded the
mountain stream on his Horse that he would go up one of these snow
roads and get the Grizzly, or turn him down another one for me.
"Now, Comrades, Muskwa here is a man of peace, loving his honey and his
Ants, but Grizzly is one to interview with great caution, and my
Comrade, Eagle Child, being a man of unwise haste, you will understand,
Comrades, that I expected strange happening when he started to
interfere with Grizzly's evening plans, for it was toward the end of
the day."
"It is not wise to meddle with one of a short temper," declared Hathi.
"I am not one of a short temper," objected Grizzly. "I seek a quarrel
with no one; but, perhaps, if this man, who was Sa'-zada's comrade,
sought to make a kill of one of our kind, there may have been trouble.
If I am of a great strength why is that--is it so that I may be killed
easily? Have I not strong claws just as Bagh has his teeth, and Boar
his tusks, and Python his strength of squeeze?--even also have I
somewhat of a squeeze myself. And shall I not use these things that I
have, as do the other Forest Dwellers when their desire is to live? I
am not like Elk that can gallop fast--flee from a slayer. And so, if I,
being strong, fight for my life, it is temper, eh? Wough! I am as I am.
But go on, Little Master--tell us of this happening."
"As I was saying," recommenced Sa'-zada, "when Eagle Child in his
great eagerness started after that Bear, I had an idea there would be
fun, and there was--though I must say that I followed up to give him
some help."