SUL THE ELEPHANT
"Bother the old cobra! Don't say any more about it; I hate to hear the
thing mentioned. Well, there, quite well, thank you; how do you do?"
"But you might tell me, Hal."
"Why, I am telling you. I'm quite well again."
"Don't you feel anything?"
"Oh yes, just a little; my arm feels pins-and-needlesy, just as if I
had been to sleep on it in an awkward position; and it looks as if it
was turning into a snake."
"What, twists and twines about?"
"No--o--o--o! What nonsense! How can a thing with stiff bones in it
twist and twine about? I mean, the skin's all marked something like a
snake's; but Dr. Cameron says I need not mind, for it will all go off
in time. Oh, I am so sick of it all! I wish I hadn't killed the
snake."
"What!" cried Phra.
"No, I don't quite mean that, because of course I'm glad to have
killed the horrible, poisonous thing; only it's so tiresome. That's
nearly a month ago, and everybody's watching me to see how I look, and
asking me how I am, and you're about the worst of the lot."
"It's quite natural, Hal."
"Is it? Then I wish it wasn't. I suppose it's quite natural for Mrs.
Cameron to begin to cry as soon as she sees me."
"It's because she feels grateful to you for saving her life."
"There you go again," cried Harry peevishly. "Saving her life! Oh, how
I wish I hadn't! Everybody will keep telling me of it, and one says it
was so good of me, and another calls me a brave young hero; and just
because I hit a snake a whack with an old bamboo stool. It's
sickening."
Phra laughed heartily.
"You're not sorry you saved her life."
"Will you be quiet?" cried Harry angrily. "Saved her life again.
Everybody's telling me of it. Of course I don't mean I'm sorry, but I
wish somebody else had done it. Ah! you, for instance," cried the boy,
with one of his old mirthful looks. "Ha, ha, ha! Poor old Phra! How
would he like it? every one calling him a brave young hero!"
"I shouldn't mind it once or twice," said Phra thoughtfully. "But
after that I suppose it would be rather tiresome."
"Tiresome!" cried Harry. "It sets your teeth on edge--it makes you
squirm--it makes you want to throw things that will break--it makes
you want to call names, and kick."
Phra roared.
"Ah, you may grin, my lad, but it does."
"It would make me feel proud," said Phra.
"That it wouldn't. You're not such a silly, weak noodle. It would make
you feel ashamed of yourself, for it's sickly and stupid to make such
a fuss about nothing. No, don't say any more about it, or there'll be
a fight."
"I say, Hal," cried Phra. "I shall be glad when you are quite well
again."
"I am quite well again. Look here, I'll race you along the terrace and
back."
"No, it makes one too hot. But you're not quite well yet."
"I am, I tell you. Do you want to quarrel?"
"No, but that proves you are not."
"How? What do you mean?"
"You get cross so soon. It's just as if that snakebite--"
"Don't!" roared Harry.
"Turned you sour and acid."
Harry did not resent this, but remained silent for a few moments.
"I say," he said at last, "is that true?"
"What?"
"About me turning sour and acid?"
"Oh yes; you get out of temper about such little things. I'm almost
afraid to speak to you sometimes."
"Hi! Look at him! There he goes. One of those little monkeys. He heard
me shout. How he can jump from tree to tree! I wish we were as active.
There! He can't jump to that next tree. He'd fall down. Well! Look at
that. Why, it was a tremendous jump."
"We were here just right," said Phra; "he was coming after the fruit,
and we scared him."
Harry was silent, and walked on by his companion's side in the
beautiful gardens of the palace. Then he began to whistle softly, as
if he were thinking. At last he broke out with--
"Oh, what a lovely garden this is! I wish my father was a king, and I
was a prince, and all this was ours."
Phra threw himself down on the grass beneath a clump of shrubs and
began to laugh heartily.
"What are you laughing at?" said Harry angrily.
"You. Why, you wouldn't like it half so well as what you have now."
"Oh, shouldn't I! I know better than that."
"No, you don't, Hal. That is all my father's, and it will be all mine
some day; but I like being at your place ever so much better than
being here."
"You don't. Nonsense!"
"I do, I tell you. Your little garden's lovely, and the dear old
landing-place is ten times nicer than our marble steps."
"You've been out in the sun too much, Phra, and it has turned your
head."
"That it hasn't. And as to your father being king, he'd soon be very
tired of it, as my father is; for it's all worry and care."
Harry had thrown himself sprawling on the grass beside his companion,
and the boys were both silent for a while, as if listening to the soft
cooing of one of the beautiful little rose and green doves which
frequented the garden.
"It's very curious," said Harry at last.
"What is?" said Phra wonderingly.
"That the poison of that snake--such a wee, tiny drop as got into
me--should have such a droll effect."
"I don't see anything droll in it," replied Phra.
"I do," cried Harry. "Here, only a little time ago I was the jolliest,
best-tempered fellow that ever lived."
"Ho, ho, ho!" laughed Phra.
"Well, so I was," cried Harry indignantly.
"When you weren't cross."
"Oh, I say, I never was cross; but I'll own to it now. I've often
thought about it lately. You're quite right, Phra; the least thing
does put me out now, and I feel as if I must grind my teeth together.
Think it is because of the poison?"
"Of course it is. But never mind. I don't, because I know why it is."
"I have been very cross, then, sometimes, have I?"
"Horrid!" cried Phra, laughing. "You've been ready to call the sun
names for shining, and the wind for blowing. You can't think how cross
you've been."
"I can guess. It's what Dr. Cameron calls being a trifle irritable.
Hullo! here's one of your fellows coming. Looks just as if he were
going to spear us both for being in the King's garden."
A handsome, bronze-skinned guard stalked up and bowed to Phra.
"What do you want?" asked Phra.
"The hunter, Sree, asks to see the Prince," replied the man.
That was enough. There was neither irritability in Harry, nor thought
of the heat in Phra, as they sprang up and made for the outer court,
where they found Sree sitting upon his heels, calmly meditative over
his thoughts, but ready to spring up on seeing the two lads approach.
He saluted them after the country fashion, and in reply to the
question asked by both together,--
"I came to see if the young Sahib Harry was well enough to go out, and
the Prince would go with him."
"Of course I'm well enough," cried Harry. "I say, Sree, have you seen
any cobras since that one bit me?"
Phra turned sharply round, with his face full of the mirth he tried to
hide.
"Yes, I know what you mean," cried Harry sharply. "I shall talk about
it myself, though, if I like. Have you seen any, Sree?"
"Just one hundred and seven, Sahib," said the man.
"A hundred and seven!" cried Harry. "What, about here?"
"About the different houses and landings, Sahib," replied the old
hunter. "They like to get near to where people live, because of the
little animals that come too."
"I shouldn't have thought that there were so many for miles and
miles."
"Oh yes, Sahib; there are many nagas about."
"You must have seen the same ones over again," said Harry.
"No, Sahib; it was not so, because I killed as many as I said."
"Killed them!"
"Yes, Sahib; when I knew that you had been bitten, I felt that I must
have been neglectful, and I set to work seeking for nagas with my two
men, and we killed all those. You see, it is easy. When you find one,
there is sure to be its husband or its wife somewhere near."
"Then you killed all those because I was bitten?" said Harry.
"Yes, Sahib, and we are going to kill more. They are dangerous things.
Would the Sahib like to go out to-day?"
"Yes, we should; shouldn't we, Phra?"
"Yes, if you--"
Phra got no farther, on account of the sharp look Harry darted at him.
"Have you anything particular you have tracked down?"
"I have done nothing but hunt nagas lately, Sahib, because I did not
know when the Sahib would come again; but the jungle is full of wild
creatures, and the river the same. Would Sahib Harry like to go right
up the river in a boat, or would he like a ride through the jungle
with an elephant?"
"What do you say, Phra?" asked Harry.
"We had a boat out last time," said Phra. "Which you like, though."
"But could you get an elephant? Would your father--"
"Of course," said Phra eagerly. "How soon shall we go?"
"I should like to go directly."
"Then we will go directly. I'll order an elephant to be brought round
at once."
He went towards the palace, and Harry followed him with his eyes.
"It's nice," he thought, "to be able to order everything you want like
that. To tell the people to bring round an elephant, just as I might
give orders for a donkey. Well, it's just the same, only one's bigger
than the other, and costs more to keep. It is nice, after all, to be a
king or a prince. Phra says it isn't, though, and perhaps one might
get as much fun out of a donkey, and if he kicked it wouldn't be so
far to fall."
He turned suddenly, to find that the old hunter's eyes were fixed
sharply upon him.
"Does the young Sahib feel any pain now from the snake-bite?"
Harry frowned at the allusion, but the question was so respectfully
put that he replied quietly,--
"A good deal sometimes, Sree, but my arm is better."
"Be out in the sun all you can, Sahib, and let the hot light shine
upon it to bring life and strength back to the blood."
Harry nodded.
"There is death in the serpent's poison, but life in the light of the
sun, Sahib. Sree's heart was sore within him when he heard the bad
tidings, for he feared it meant that the young Sahib's days were at an
end."
"But you never came near me, Sree, while I was bad."
"But I knew, Sahib, and I was busy--oh, so busy! One hundred and seven
of the little wretches."
"Oh yes," said Harry, "I had forgotten that. But come along; the
Prince is coming out again."
By the time they reached the court Phra was there, with men carrying
out guns, belts, and flasks, with net-bags to hold anything they might
shoot; and before this was quite done a peculiar scrunching sound was
heard, and directly after the prominent fronted grey head of a huge
elephant appeared, as the great quadruped came on, walking softly, and
swaying its long trunk from side to side, while upon its neck sat a
little ugly man not bigger than a boy, hook-speared goad in hand, and
with his legs completely hidden by the creature's great, leathery,
flap ears.
"You've got the biggest one, Phra," said Harry.
"Yes, he takes longer strides, and I like him; don't I, Sul?" said the
lad, giving the _u_ in the animal's name the long, soft sound of
double _o_.
The elephant uttered a peculiar sound, and twining his truck round
Phra's waist, lifted him from the ground.
"No, no, I am going up by the ladder," said Phra, laughing, and at a
word the huge beast set him down again, and raised his trunk to
receive a petting from Harry, who was an old friend.
It seemed strange for the great beast with its gigantic power to be so
obedient and docile to a couple of mere lads, and the insignificant
mahout perched upon its neck. But so it was: at a word the elephant
knelt, a short, bamboo ladder was placed against its side, and the
boys climbed up; the guns and ammunition were handed in by Sree, who
was particular to a degree in seeing that everything was placed in the
howdah that was necessary; and then he took his own place behind the
lads.
Without being told, a couple of the men drew the ladder away, and the
mahout grasped his silver-mounted goad, all attention for the word.
Phra gave this, and then it was like a boat mounting a wave and
plunging down the other side, as the elephant rose, and without
seeming to exert itself in the least, began to shuffle over the
ground.
"Just like two pairs of stuffed trousers under a feather bed," as
Harry termed it.
Sree gave the mahout his directions, and very soon the river was left
far behind, and they were following one of the elephant tracks through
the wooded district which lay between the river and the jungle
proper--the primitive wild, much of which had never been trodden by
the foot of man.
Here the trees had gone on growing to their full age, and fallen to
make way for others to take their places, the roots of the young
literally devouring the crumbled-up touchwood over which they had
spread their boughs, while creepers and the ever-present climbing and
running palm, the rotan, bound the grand, forest monarchs together,
and turned the place into an impenetrable wild, save where the wild
elephants had formed their roads and traversed them even to taking the
same steps, each planting its huge feet in the impressions made by
those which had gone before.
"Are we going to begin shooting at once, Sree?" asked Harry.
"No, Sahib; not here. Too many people have been about, and everything
is shy and hides. Wait till we get into some of the open places in the
wild jungle."
This was while they were in the more open woodland; but soon this was
left behind, and they were in the twilight of the great forest, going
through a tunnel arched over by big trees, and with very little more
than room for their huge steed to pass without brushing the sides.
Every here and there the gloom was relieved by what looked like a
golden shower of rain, where the sun managed to penetrate; but, as
soon as this was passed, the darkness seemed deeper than before.
The first part of this savage wild lay low, and the huge footprints
made by the wild elephants were full of mud and water; but Sul did not
seem in the least troubled. According to the custom of his kind, he
chose these holes in preference to the firm ground between, his feet
sometimes descending with a loud splash a couple of feet or so, and
being withdrawn with a peculiar _suck_, while the huge beast rolled
and plunged like a boat in a rough sea.
"Do you mind this?" said Phra, turning to his companion, as they were
shaken together.
"No; I like it," replied Harry. "I say, what a place this must be for
the big snakes, and how easily one might dart down half its body and
twist round one of us. Don't you feel a bit scared?"
"No; but I heard of a hungry one doing that once. I daresay we should
know if one was near."
"How?"
"The elephant seems to see and know whenever he is near anything
dangerous."
"Oh, only when there is a tiger or buffalo, Phra."
"This one notices everything, doesn't he, Sree?"
"Yes, Prince; he is a wonderful beast," replied the hunter, who, in
spite of the rolling about, had carefully charged the four guns that
had been brought, and replaced them lying upon the hooks within the
howdah, ready to be seized at a moment's notice.
"We shan't see anything here," said Phra.
"Too thick," replied the hunter; "but there are plenty of beasts on
either side now. In an hour though we shall reach a part where the sun
can shine through."
"Hist! Something before us," whispered Phra stretching out his hand
for a gun, an act imitated by Harry; for the elephant had suddenly
stopped, thrown up its trunk, and as it gave vent to a rumbling sound
which ended in the loud, highly-pitched cry which is called
trumpeting, it shook its head from side to side, striking the branches
with the ends of its long, sharp-pointed tusks, which were hooped in
two places with bands of glistening silver.
"You had better take a gun too, Sree," said Harry, in a low voice, and
the old hunter eagerly availed himself of the permission.
"Mind not to hit the mahout," whispered Phra, for the little turbanned
man kept on anxiously looking back; "and you had better be looking
out, Hal, for Sul may spin right round and run away."
They sat watching and listening for some minutes, expecting moment by
moment to see the cause of their stoppage approaching along the dusk
tunnel, and at last, as the elephant ceased to make uneasy signs, Sree
handed the gun to Harry.
"What are you going to do?" asked the latter.
"Slip down, Sahib, and go forward to see what startled the elephant."
"Is it safe?"
"Oh yes, Sahib; I should run back if there was danger, and you would
fire over my head."
"But you had better have a gun."
The old hunter smiled, and the next minute, he had lowered himself
down by the ropes which held on the howdah, reached up for the gun,
which was handed down to him, and they saw him go slowly forward,
carefully examining the pathway, which fortunately was here fairly
free from water, though the earth was soft enough to show the
footprints of whatever had passed along.
As if fully comprehending what all this meant, the great elephant made
a muttering noise, lowered its trunk, and of its own choice continued
its march, following close behind Sree, till the latter began to move
more cautiously; and now the elephant raised its head again, and
curled its trunk up, throwing it back towards its forehead.
"Means a tiger," whispered Harry.
"Yes; look at Sree. Be ready to fire."
Harry's heart beat fast, and he sat there with his gun-barrels resting
on the front of the howdah, ready to fire if the great cat came into
view.
The elephant was shifting its weight from foot to foot, giving itself
an awkward roll that would be rather bad for a marksman; but otherwise
it made no further uneasy signs.
"Tiger," cried Phra, and Sree nodded sharply, before running some
little distance on in a stooping position, displaying the activity of
a boy, till he was nearly out of sight; but before he was quite so he
turned sharply and ran back, stopping about a dozen yards in front of
the elephant's head.
"Look, Sahibs," he said, pointing down, "tiger. He came out of the low
bush just on your left, and trotted along to here, and then crossed to
yonder, twenty paces farther, where he went in among the trees on your
right."
"Come back, then, and mount," said Harry anxiously. "The brute may be
crouching somewhere ready to spring on you."
"No, Sahib," said the man, smiling; "he has gone right away."
"How can you tell that?" asked Harry.
"Look at Sul, Sahib. He would not stand quietly like that if the tiger
was near."
"Yes, that is right," said Phra quietly, and he bade the mahout tell
the elephant to kneel.
"Couldn't we follow and get a shot at it?" said Harry excitedly. "No,
no, of course not in a place like this," he hastened to add, for
unless the path was followed it was next to impossible to move.
The next minute the elephant had knelt, and Sree had scrambled back to
his place behind the howdah.
"As there was one here, there may be his mate, Sahib," he said; "so we
will keep a good look-out."
"Yes, of course," said Harry, as the elephant strode along quietly
enough; "but I say, Phra, we did not come out after tigers, did we?"
"No, but by accident we are where we may get one. Did you find the
pugs as easily as this, when you were out with my father that day?"
"No, Sahib; it was all hard work, and very few footmarks to be found."
"Did you bring us this way hoping that we might shoot a tiger?"
"No, Sahib; I brought you along here so that you might shoot a deer
for us to take back. I would not purposely take you where there are
tigers; but if we have one tracking us, of course we must shoot,
unless you would like to go back."
"Ask the Prince if he would," said Harry. "I mean to go on."
"Go on, of course," said Phra. "I don't think we shall see any more
signs of tigers."
And, in fact, they went right on now along this winding tunnel through
the jungle without seeing anything, and hearing nothing but the
shrieking of parrots now and then, far above their heads, where the
tops of the trees spread their flowers or fruit in the bright
sunshine, but produced semi-darkness in the jungle beneath.
At last, though, the path grew drier and drier and it was evident that
they were ascending a slope, which being pursued for another quarter
of an hour, they had the satisfaction of noting that the trees were of
less growth, and every now and then there were rays of light streaming
down, till all at once there was a patch of bright sunshine right in
front, showing that comparatively open ground lay before them; while
directly after Harry had a glimpse of something dusky fifty yards
away, there was the sound of a rush and the breaking of twigs, and
then all was silent again.
"Buffalo, wasn't it?" said Phra.
"Yes, Sahib," replied the old hunter. "Scared away; but they may
return. There were four of them. Be ready, for they might come back
and charge at the elephant, big as he is."
But no more was seen of the game they had disturbed, and a few minutes
later they were out in full sunshine, the track before them being a
wide expanse of park-like ground extended on either slope of a valley,
through which a stream ran, half hidden by overhanging bushes and
reeds. Here and there the sun flashed from the running water, but for
the most part the stream was invisible.
When they broke out of the jungle they entered a dense patch of grass,
which immediately found favour with the elephant, and it began tearing
it up in bundles as large as its trunk would embrace; but this
enjoyment was stopped at once, for at a word or two from Sree, the
mahout started the animal onward, uttering mild remonstrances the
while.
"We will keep along here on the slope, Sahibs," said the hunter. "Be
quite ready to fire."
It was an unnecessary order, for both boys were keenly on the
look-out, while as soon as he had got over his disappointment at not
being allowed to tuck small trusses of the succulent grass into his
capacious maw, Sul showed how well trained a hunting elephant he was,
taking up the beating in the most matter-of-fact way, and as if
thoroughly entering into the spirit of the chase.
"What shall we get along here, Sree?" asked Harry, as they rode on,
with the long grass and bushes rustling and snapping about the
elephant's feet.
"Who knows, Sahib? Perhaps pig, which will make for the low ground
yonder by the stream, or peacock, and they will rise and fly to our
left for the shelter of the jungle. Maybe it will be a buffalo, who
will charge us, and then it will be better that I should fire too, for
the great obstinate brute ought to be stopped before it reaches Sul.
He would take the buffalo on his tusks, but these beasts are so strong
that he might be hurt, and that would be a pity; it makes an elephant
unsteady."
"I thought you said we might get a deer," said Phra.
"It is very likely, Sahib," replied the man. "Who knows what we may
find in such a beautiful hunting-country, where no one disturbs the
beasts? Ah, look!"
For at that moment Sul uttered a warning sound which can best be
represented by the word _Phoomk_, and stopped short, but without
curling up his trunk out of the way of some charging enemy.
The boys raised their guns to their shoulders, and waited for a chance
to fire, but there was nothing seen save the waving and undulating of
the long grass to their left, as if something were making for the
jungle--something long, like a gigantic serpent.
"Shall I fire?" said Phra.
"It is of no use, Sahib," replied Sree; "the cover is too deep."
"What is it?" said Harry hoarsely--"a boa?"
"No, Sahib; a little troop of small monkeys following an old one. They
have been down to the water to drink, and they are running back to the
jungle trees."
"Oh, we don't want to shoot them," said Harry; "go on."
The elephant obeyed a touch from the goad, and shambled along, making
the long grass swish, while he muttered and grumbled as if
dissatisfied at there being no firing. But before they had gone a
hundred yards farther he gave warning again, and almost at the same
moment there was a loud grunting, a rush to the right, and two reports
rang out as both boys fired.
This was followed by a sharp squeal, but the undulation of the grass
did not cease, and from their position high up the two lads caught
sight from time to time of the blackish-brown backs of three or four
good-sized pigs.
"We hit one," cried Harry excitedly. "Send Sul on. It must be lying
dead."
"No, Sahib," said Sree. "You hit one, but they have all gone off."
"How do you know? Perhaps one is lying there in the long grass."
"No, Sahib," said the man; "you would have seen it struggling, and
heard its shrieks. A pig makes much noise. But I saw the one hit, and
it only gave a jump. You both fired the wrong barrels."
"What!" cried Phra, examining his gun, with Harry following suit.
"The right barrels are for shot, the left barrels for ball," said Sree
quietly. "Those shot would kill a peacock, but only tickle the thick
skin of a wild pig."
"How stupid!" said Harry. "I never thought of that. Here, load again."
He handed his gun to the hunter, and took up another from the hooks
inside the howdah, while Sul went on, muttering to himself, but there
appeared from the sound to be more satisfaction in his remarks at the
efforts made, though there had been no result.
So comical was all this that the boys laughed heartily, and there was
a grim smile on Sree's countenance.
"It seems so droll," said Phra merrily. "It is just as if he knew all
about it."
"He does, Sahib," said the hunter.
"Nonsense!" said Harry.
"The Sahib has not seen so much of elephants as I have," said the man
respectfully. "He believes that I have learned much about the wild
creatures of the jungle?"
"Oh yes, you have, Sree; but I can't believe elephants understand what
we are doing."
"The wild elephant is one of the wisest of beasts, Sahib, and he would
never be caught, he is so cunning, if it was not that we cheat him by
sending elephants that we have trained to the herd to lead others into
traps. And when they have got them there, do they not beat them and
hold them till they are noosed and their spirit is conquered?"
"Oh yes, they do all that."
"And many other things," said Sree, "that I have seen with the Sahibs
in India, where they move and pile the trees that are cut down, and
lift guns; and what beast will obey its master better than an
elephant? Old Sul here is very wise, and knows a great deal."
"Yes," said Harry, "but not to understand what we say."
"But he knows what the order means, Sahib; and see how he enjoys the
hunting."
"Yes, Sul really does like hunting, Hal," said Phra.
"And it is not only elephants that like hunting," continued Sree. "See
how the horses and dogs love the hunting in India, and the horses the
pig-sticking. I have seen them enjoy it as much as the Sahibs. They
never want the spur, but go wonderfully fast, as soon as they see a
fierce, wild boar. Ah, Sahib, animals are wiser than we think, and
love us back again if we love them. Old Sul here loves me better than
he does his driver; but I am afraid of him. He loves me too well."
"That sounds funny, Sree," said Harry. "What do you mean?"
"He likes to show me how much he loves me by rubbing up against me;
and if he tries to do that when he has me by a tree or one of the
palace walls, I am obliged to be quick and get under him; he is so big
and heavy. But here is your gun."
Meanwhile the object of these remarks had been forcing his way through
the grass and bushes, winking his little red eyes as if enjoying the
conversation, and flapping his great ears, his absurdly small tail
whisking about and making dashes at troublesome flies, while his great
trunk seemed to possess an independent existence, twining and waving,
swaying this way and that, and never for a moment still.
But all the while the great, sensible creature was intent upon the
object in hand, pushing steadily forward through the dense growth, and
starting numberless occupiers of the long grass--snakes, lizards,
rats, and mice, scurrying away to avoid the pillar-like legs which
invaded their home.
"Don't seem as if we are going to have much sport," said Harry at
last, "and it's precious hot out here."
The words had hardly passed his lips when Sul uttered a deep grunt and
stood fast, for he had startled a small deer from its lair, the
graceful creature making a sudden bound into sight close to the
elephant's feet, and then going right forward in a succession of
leaps, so that its course hindered the boys from firing until it had
gone forty yards, when both guns rang out sharply, Sul remaining firm
as a rock.
"Hit!" cried Sree, for the deer fell heavily, struggled in the thick
growth for a few moments, then gained its feet and made another bound
into sight--a bound which paralysed the arms of the two lads and made
them hold their breath, for as the deer made what was veritably its
death leap, something of a tawny yellow and brown mingled made a
tremendous bound on to it, bringing it down among the bushes with a
dull, crashing sound, and then all was still.