There came a rainy day at last at Kinlossie House. Such days will come
at times in human experience, both in metaphor and fact. At present we
state a fact.
"It will bring up the fush," was Roderick's remark, as he paused in the
operation of cleaning harness to look through the stable door on the
landscape; "an' that wull please Maister MacRummle."
"It will pe good for the gress too, an' that will please Muss Mully,"
said Donald, now permanently appointed to the stables.
"H'm! she wull pe carin' less for the gress, poy, than she wass used to
do," returned the groom. "It iss my opeenion that they wull pe all
wantin' to co away sooth pefore long."
We refer to the above opinions because they were shared by the party
assembled in Barret's room, which was still retained as a snuggery,
although its occupant was fully restored to normal health and vigour.
"You'll be sure to get `that salmon' next time you try, after all this
rain, MacRummle," said Mabberly. "At least, I hope you will before we
leave."
"Ay, and you must have another try with the repeater on the Eagle Cliff,
Mac. It would never do to leave a lone widdy, as Quin calls it, after
murdering the husband."
"Perhaps I _may_ have another day there," answered the old gentleman,
with a pleased smile; for although they roasted him a good deal for
mistaking an eagle for a raven, and only gave him credit for a "fluke,"
it was evident that he congratulated himself not a little on his
achievement.
"Archie is having an awful time skinning and stuffing it," said Eddie,
who sat by the window dressing trout flies.
Junkie, who was occupied at another window, mending the top of his rod,
remarked that nothing seemed to give Archie so much pleasure as skinning
and stuffing something. "He's always doing it," said the youngster.
"Whatever happens to die, from a tom-cat to a tom-tit, he gets hold of.
I do believe if he was to die, he would try to skin and stuff himself!"
At that moment Archie entered the room.
"I've got it nearly done now," he said, with a pleased expression, while
he rubbed his not-over-clean hands. "I'll set him up to-night and
photograph him to-morrow, with Flo under his wings to show his
_enormous_ size."
"Oh! that minds me o' the elephants," cried Junkie, jumping up and
running to Jackman, who was assisting. Barret to arrange plants for
Milly. "We are _all_ here now--an' you _promised_, you know."
A heavy patter of rain on the window seemed to emphasise Junkie's
request by suggesting that nothing better could be done.
"Well, Junkie, I have no objection," said the Woods-and-Forester, "if
the rest of the company do not object."
As the rest of the company did not object, but rather expressed anxiety
to hear about the hunt, Jackman drew his chair near to the fire, the
boys crowded round him, and he began with,--"Let me see. Where was I?"
"In India, of course," said Junkie. "Yes; but at what part of the
hunt?"
"Oh! you hadn't begun the hunt at all. You had only made Chand
somethin' or other, Isri Per-what-d'ee-call-it, an' Raj Mung-thingumy
give poor Mowla Buksh such an awful mauling."
"Just so. Well, you must know that next day we received news of large
herds of elephants away to the eastward of the Ganges, so we started off
with all our forces--hunters, matchlock-men, onlookers, etcetera, and
about eighty tame elephants. Chief among these last were the fighting
elephants, to which Junkie gave such appropriate names just now, and
king of them all was the mighty Chand Moorut, who had never been known
to refuse a fight or lose a victory since he was grown up.
"It was really grand to see this renowned mountain of living flesh
towering high above his fellows. Like all heroes, he was calm and
dignified when not in action--a lamb in the drawing-room, a lion in the
field. Even the natives, accustomed as they were to these giants, came
to look at him admiringly that morning as he walked sedately out of
camp. He was so big that he seemed to grow bigger while you looked at
him, and he was absolutely perfect in form and strength--the very
Hercules of brutes.
"The trackers had marked down a herd of wild elephants, not three miles
distant, in a narrow valley, just suited to our purpose. On reaching
the ground we learned that there was, in the jungle, a `rogue'
elephant--that is, an old male, which had been expelled from the herd.
Such outcasts are usually very fierce and dangerous. This one was a
tusker, who had been the terror of the neighbourhood, having killed many
people, among them a forester, only a few days before our arrival.
"As these `rogues' are always very difficult to overcome, and are almost
sure to injure the khedda, or tame elephants of the hunt, if an attempt
is made to capture them, we resolved to avoid him, and devote our
attention entirely to the females and young ones. We formed a curious
procession as we entered the valley--rajah and civilians, military men
and mahowts, black and white, on pads and in howdahs--the last being the
little towers that you see on elephants' backs in pictures.
"Gun-men had been sent up to the head of the valley to block the way in
that direction. The sides were too steep for elephants to climb. Thus
we had them, as it were, in a trap, and formed up the khedda in battle
array. The catching, or non-combatant elephants, were drawn up in two
lines, and the big, fighting elephants were kept in reserve, concealed
by bushes. The sides of the valley were crowded with matchlock-men,
ready to commence shouting and firing at a given signal, and drive the
herd in the direction of the khedda.
"It was a beautiful forenoon when we commenced to move forward. All
nature seemed to be waiting in silent expectation of the issue of our
hunt, and not a sound was heard, the strictest silence having been
enjoined upon all. Rich tropical vegetation hung in graceful lines and
festoons from the cliffs on either side, but there was no sign of the
gun-men concealed there. The sun was--"
"Oh! bother the sun! Come on wi' the fight," exclaimed the impatient
Junkie.
"All in good time, my boy. The sun was blazing in my eyes, I was going
to say, so, you see, I could not make out the distant view, and
therefore, can't describe it," ("Glad of it," murmured the impertinent
Junkie); "but I knew that the wild elephants were there, somewhere in
the dense jungle. Suddenly a shot was heard at the head of the valley.
We afterwards learned that it had been fired over the head of a big
tusker elephant that stood under a tree not many yards from the man who
fired. Being young, like Junkie, and giddy, it dashed away down the
valley, trumpeting wildly; and you have no conception how active and
agile these creatures can be, if you have seen only the slow, sluggish
things that are in our Zoos at home! So terrible was the sound of this
elephant's approach, that the ranks of the khedda elephants were thrown
into some confusion, and the mahowts had difficulty in preventing them
from turning tail and running away. Our leader, therefore, ordered the
gladiator, Chand Moorut, to the front. Indeed, Chand ordered himself to
the front, for no sooner did he hear the challenge of the tusker, than
he dashed forward alone to accept it, and his mahowt found it almost
impossible to restrain him. Fortunately the jungle helped the mahowt by
hiding the tusker from view.
"When the wild elephant caught sight of the line of the khedda, he went
at it with a mighty rush, crashing through bush and brake, and
overturning small trees like straws, until he got into the dry bed of a
stream. There he stopped short, for the colossal Chand Moorut suddenly
appeared and charged him. The wild tusker, however, showed the white
feather. He could not, indeed, avoid the shock altogether, but,
yielding to it, he managed to keep his legs, turned short round, and
fled past his big foe. Chand Moorut had no chance with the agile fellow
in a race. He was soon left far behind, while the tusker charged
onward. The matchlock-men tried in vain to check him. As he approached
the line, the khedda elephants fled in all directions. Thrusting aside
some, and overturning others that came in his way, he held on his
course, amid the din of shouting and rattling of shots, and finally, got
clear away!"
"Oh, _what_ a pity!" exclaimed Junkie.
"But that did not matter much," continued Jackman; "for news was brought
in that the herd we had been after were not in that valley at all, but
in the next one, and had probably heard nothing of all the row we had
been making; so we collected our forces, and went after them.
"Soon we got to the pass leading into the valley, and then, just beyond
it, came quite suddenly on a band of somewhere about thirty wild
elephants. They were taken quite by surprise, for they were feeding at
the time on a level piece of ground of considerable extent. As it was
impossible to surround them, away the whole khedda went helter-skelter
after them. It was a tremendous sight. The herd had scattered in all
directions, so that our khedda was also scattered. Each hunting
elephant had two men on its back--one, the nooseman, sitting on its
neck, with a strong, thick rope in his hands, on which was a running
noose; the other, the driver, who stood erect on the animal's back,
holding on by a loop with one hand, and in the other flourishing an
instrument called the _mungri_, with sharp spikes in it, wherewith to
whip the poor animal over the root of his tail; for of course an
ordinary whip would have had no more effect than a peacock's feather, on
an elephant's hide!
"I ordered my mahowt to keep near one of the noosemen, whom I knew to be
expert in the use of the giant-lasso. His name was Ramjee. Both Ramjee
and his driver were screaming and yelling at the pitch of their voices,
and the latter was applying his mungri with tremendous energy. The
elephant they were after was a small female. It is always necessary
that the chasing elephant should be much heavier than the one chased,
else evil results follow, as we soon found. Presently the khedda
elephant was alongside. Ramjee lifted the great loop in both hands, and
leaned over till he almost touched the wild animal. Frequently this
noosing fails from various reasons. For one thing, the wild creatures
are often very clever at evading the noose: sometimes they push it away
with their trunks; occasionally they step right through it, and now and
then get only half through it, so that it forms a sort of tow rope, and
the other end of this rope being made fast to the neck of the tame
elephant, the wild one drags it along violently, unless the tame one is
much heavier than itself. This is exactly what happened to Ramjee. He
dropped the noose beautifully over the creature's head, but before it
could be hauled tight--which was accomplished by checking the tame
animal--the active creature had got its forelegs through. The loop
caught, however, on its hind quarters, and away it went, dragging the
tame elephant after it, Ramjee shrieking wildly for help. Two of the
other tame elephants, not yet engaged, were sent to his assistance.
These easily threw two more nooses over the wild creature, and, after a
good run, she was finally exhausted, secured with ropes, and driven back
to camp, there to be subjected to coercive treatment until she should
become tame.
"Meanwhile, other captures were being made in the field. I was just
moving off, after seeing this female secured, when a tremendous shouting
attracted me. It was a party chasing a fine young tusker. He was very
cunning, and ran about, dodging hither and thither, taking advantage of
every tree and bush and inequality, while the mahowts failed again and
again to noose him. I made my mahowt drive our animal so as to turn him
back. We had no appliances to capture, as I was there only to look on
and admire. At last a good throw noosed him, but he slipped through,
all except one hind leg. On this the noose luckily held, and in a few
minutes we had him secure. Of course, in driving our prisoners to camp,
the tame elephants were used to guide them, stir them up, push them on,
and restrain or punish them, as the case might require. This was easy
with the smaller females and young ones, but it was a very different
matter with big males, especially with rogues, as we found out before
the close of that day.
"We were getting pretty well used up towards the afternoon, and had sent
ten full-grown elephants and three calves into camp, when we received
news that the rogue, which had been so long a terror to the district,
was in the neighbouring valley. So we resolved to go for him. Of
course there was no possibility of noosing such a monster. The ordinary
elephants could never have been brought to face him. Our only hope
therefore lay in our gladiators; and our plan was to make them knock him
down repeatedly, until, at length, he should be tired out.
"I need not waste time with details. It is sufficient to say that,
after about an hour's search, we came upon the rogue in a dense part of
the jungle. He was, as I have said, unusually big, as well as fierce.
But our hero, Chand Moorut, had never yet met his match, so we resolved
to risk an encounter. There was the dry bed of a river, which the rogue
would have to cross when driven down the valley by the gun-men. Here
our gladiator was placed, partially concealed and ready to meet the
rogue when he should appear. Fifty yards back the other fighting
elephants were placed in support, and behind these were drawn up the
rest of the khedda in three lines. Then the spectators, many of whom
were ladies, were placed on a ledge of rock about forty feet above the
river-bed, which commanded a good view of the proposed field of battle.
"Up to this time perfect silence had been maintained in our ranks. My
elephant was stationed near the centre of the line, from which point I
could see Chand Moorut standing calmly near the river-bed, with what I
could almost fancy was a twinkle in his eye, as though he suspected what
was coming.
"Suddenly a single shot was heard from up the valley. As it came
echoing towards us, it was mingled with the spattering fire, shouting
and yelling of the beaters, who began to advance. Chand Moorut became
rigid and motionless, like a statue. He was evidently thinking!
Another instant, and the rogue's shrill trumpet-note of defiance rang
high above the din. Trembling and restive the ordinary khedda elephants
showed every symptom of alarm; but the fighters stood still, with the
exception of Chand, who, becoming inflated with the spirit of war, made
a sudden dash up the valley, intent on accepting the challenge! Fifty
yards were passed before his mahowt, with voice, limb, and prod managed
to reduce the well-trained warrior to obedience. Solemnly, and with
stately gait, he returned to his position, his great heart swelling, no
doubt, with anticipation.
"Scarcely had he taken up his position when the bushes higher up were
seen to move, and the huge black form of the rogue appeared upon the
scene. Unlike the lively young elephant that had escaped us in the
morning, this old rogue marched sedately and leisurely down the
hill-side, apparently as much unconcerned about the uproar of shooting
and shouting in his rear as if it had been but the buzzing of a few
mosquitoes. I confess that doubts as to the issue of the combat arose
in my mind when I first saw him, for he appeared to be nearly, if not
quite, as big as Chand Moorut himself, and of course I knew that the
hard and well-trained muscles of a wild elephant were sure to be more
powerful than those of a tame one. I stupidly forgot, at the moment,
that indomitable pluck counts for much in a trial of mere brute force.
"Ignorant of what was in store for him, with head erect, and an air of
quiet contempt for all animate creation, the rogue walked into the dry
bed of the river, and began to descend. Expectation was now on tiptoe,
when to our disgust he turned sharp to the right, and all but walked in
amongst the spectators on the ledge above, some of whom received him
with a volley of rifle balls. As none of these touched a vital spot,
they might as well have been rhubarb pills! They turned him aside,
however, and, breaking through the left flank of the khedda, he took
refuge in the thickest jungle he could find. The whole khedda followed
in hot pursuit, crashing through overgrowth of canes, creepers, and
trees, in the midst of confusion and rumpus utterly inconceivable,
therefore beyond my powers of description! We had to look out sharply
in this chase, for we were passing under branches at times. One of
these caught my man Quin, and swept him clean off his pad. But he fell
on his feet, unhurt, and was quickly picked up and re-seated.
"In a short time we came in sight of the rogue, who suddenly turned at
bay and confronted us. The entire khedda came to a most inglorious
halt, for our heavy fighters had been left behind in the race, and the
others dared not face the foe. Seeing this, he suddenly dashed into the
midst of us, and went straight for the elephant on which our director
and his wife were seated! Fortunately, a big tree, chancing to come in
the rogue's way, interfered with his progress. He devoted his energies
to it for a few moments. Then he took to charging furiously at
everything that came in his way, and was enjoying himself with this
little game when Chand Moorut once more appeared on the scene! The
rogue stopped short instantly. It was evident that he recognised a
foeman, worthy of his steel, approaching. Chand Moorut advanced with
alacrity. The rogue eyed him with a sinister expression. There was no
hesitation on either side. Both warriors were self-confident;
nevertheless, they did not rush to the battle. Like equally-matched
veterans they advanced with grim purpose and wary deliberation. With
heads erect, and curled trunks, they met, more like wrestlers than
swordsmen, each seeming to watch for a deadly grip. Suddenly they
locked their trunks together, and began to sway to and fro with awful
evidence of power, each straining his huge muscles to the uttermost--the
conflict of Leviathan and Behemoth!
"For only a few minutes did the result seem doubtful to the hundreds of
spectators, who, on elephant-back or hill-side, gazed with glaring eyes
and bated breath, and in profound silence. The slightly superior bulk
and weight of our gladiator soon began to tell. The rogue gave way,
slightly. Chand Moorut, with the skill of the trained warrior or the
practised pugilist, took instant advantage of the move. With the rush
of a thunder-bolt he struck the rogue with his head on the shoulder.
The effect was terrific. It caused him to turn a complete somersault
into the jungle, where he fell with a thud and a crash that could be
heard far and near, and there he lay sprawling for a few moments,
nothing but struggling legs, trunk, and tail being visible above the
long grass!"
"Hooray!" shouted Junkie, unable to restrain himself.
"Just what my man Quin said," continued Jackman. "Only he added,
`Musha!' `Thunder-an'-turf,' and `Well, I niver!' And well he might,
too, for none of us ever saw such a sight before. But the victory was
not quite gained yet, for the rogue sprang up with amazing agility, and,
refusing again to face such a terrible foe, he ran away, pursued hotly
and clamorously by the whole khedda. I made my mahowt keep as close to
Chand Moorut as possible, wishing to be in at the death. Suddenly a
louder uproar in advance, and a shrill trumpeting assured me that the
rogue had again been brought to bay.
"Although somewhat exhausted and shaken by his flight and the tremendous
knock down, he fought viciously, and kept all his smaller foes at a
respectful distance by repeated charges, until Chand Moorut again came
up and laid him flat with another irresistible charge. He staggered to
his feet again, however, and now the other fighting elephants, Raj
Mungul, Isri Pershad, and others, were brought into action. These
attacked the rogue furiously, knocking him down when he attempted to
rise, and belabouring him with their trunks until he was thoroughly
exhausted. Then one of the khedda men crept up behind him on foot, with
thick ropes fitted for the purpose of tying him, and fixed them on the
rogue's hind legs. But the brave man paid heavily for his daring. He
was still engaged with the ropes when the animal suddenly kicked out and
broke the poor fellow's thigh. He was quickly lifted up and taken to
camp.
"Not so quickly, however, was the rogue taken to camp! As it was
growing dark, some of us resolved to bivouac where the capture had been
made, and tied our captive to a tree. Next morning we let him go with
only a hind leg hobbled, so that he might find breakfast for himself.
Then, having disposed of our own breakfast, we proceeded to induce our
prisoner to go along with us--a dangerous and difficult operation. As
long as he believed that he might go where he pleased, we could induce
him to take a few steps, forward, but the moment he understood what we
were driving at, he took the sulks, like an enormous spoilt child, and
refused to move. The koonkies were therefore brought up, and Raj
Mungul, going behind, gave him a shove that was irresistible. He lost
temper and turned furiously on Raj, but received such an awful whack on
the exposed flank from Isri Pershad, that he felt his case to be
hopeless, and sulked again. Going down on his knees he stuck his tusks
into the ground, like a sheet anchor, with a determination that
expressed, `Move me out o' this if you can!'
"Chand Moorut accepted the unspoken challenge. He gave the rogue a
shove that not only raised his hind legs in the air, but caused him to
stand on his head, and finally hurled him on his back. As he rose,
doggedly, he received several admonitory punches, and advanced a few
paces. Spearmen also were brought forward to prick him on, but they
only induced him to curl his trunk round a friendly tree that came in
his way, and hold on. Neither bumping, pricking, nor walloping had now
any effect. He seemed to have anchored himself there for the remainder
of his natural life by an unnatural attachment.
"In this extremity the khedda men had recourse to their last resource.
They placed under him some native fireworks, specially prepared for such
emergencies, and, as it were, blew him up moderately. Being thus
surprised into letting go his hold of the tree, he was urged slowly
forward as before. You see, we did not want to kill the beast, though
he richly deserved death, having killed so many natives, besides keeping
a whole neighbourhood in alarm for years. We were anxious to take him
to camp, and we managed it at last, though the difficulty was almost
superhuman, and may to some extent be conceived when I tell you that,
although we spent the whole of that day, from dawn to sunset, struggling
with our obstinate captive, and with the entire force of the khedda, we
only advanced to the extent of four or five hundred yards!"
Now, while this amazing story was being told by Giles Jackman to his
friends in Barret's room, a very different story was being told in the
room above them. That room was the nursery, and its only occupants were
little Flo and her black doll. The rain had cleared off towards the
afternoon, and a gleam of sunshine entering the nursery windows, had
formed a spot of intense light on the nursery floor. This seemed to
have suggested something of great interest to Flo, for, after gazing at
it with bright eyes for some time, she suddenly held the doll before her
and said--
"Blackie, I'm goin' to tell you a stowy--a bustingly intewestin' stowy."
We must remind the reader here that Flo was naturally simple and sweet,
and that as Junkie was her chief playmate, she was scarcely responsible
for her language.
"The stowy," continued Flo, "is all 'bout Doan of Ak, who was bu'nt by
some naughty men, long, long ago! D'you hear, Blackie? It would make
your hair stand on end--if you had any!"
Thereupon the little one set Blackie on a stool, propped her against the
wall, and gave her a fairly correct account of the death of the
unfortunate Joan of Arc, as related by Mrs Gordon that morning. She
wound up with the question,--"Now, what you think of _zat_, Blackie?"
As Blackie would not answer, Flo had to draw on her own bank of
imagination for further supplies of thought.
"Come," she cried, suddenly, with the eagerness of one whose cheque has
just been honoured; "let's play at Doan of Ak! You will be Doan, and I
will be the naughty men. I'll bu'n you! You mustn't squeal, or kick up
a wumpus, you know, but be dood."
Having made this stipulation, our little heroine placed the black martyr
on an old-fashioned straw-bottomed chair near the window, and getting
hold of a quantity of paper and some old cotton dresses, she piled the
whole round Blackie to represent faggots. This done, she stepped back
and surveyed her work as an artist might study a picture.
"You've dot your best muslin fock on, da'ling, an it'll be spoiled; but
I don't care for zat. Now, say your pays, Doan."
With this admonitory remark, Flo screwed up a piece of paper, went to
the fireplace, made a very long arm through the fender, and lighted it.
Next moment she applied the flame to the faggots, which blazed up with
surprising rapidity.
Stepping quickly back, the dear little child gazed at her work with
intense delight beaming from every feature.
"Now be dood, Blackie. Don't make a wumpus!" she said; and as she said
it, the flames caught the window curtains and went up with a flare that
caused Flo to shout with mingled delight and alarm.
"I wonder," remarked Mrs Gordon, who chanced to be in the drawing-room
on the windward side of the nursery, "what amuses Flo so much!"
She arose and went, leisurely, to see.
Roderick, the groom, being in the harness-room on the lee side of the
nursery at the time, made a remark with the same opening words.
"I wonder," said he, "what _that_ wull pe!" A sniffing action of the
nose told what "that" meant. "Don't you smell a smell, Tonal'?"