HOW LHOKS WENT BACK TO THE FOREST
Lhoks, the panther, peered sullenly and discontentedly forth from
behind bars of his cage at the curious crowd of people who stared in
at him, and baring his sharp white teeth angrily, snarled at them
crossly. Again he resumed his uneasy pad, pad, padding walk, up and
down the narrow floor of his prison, which, with six other similar
gaily painted cages occupied by other unfortunate wild animals,
belonged to a small travelling menagerie.
Lhoks was a handsome animal, and the boys and girls who gathered in
crowds around his cage gazed at him with round eyes of admiring awe.
He happened to be a very large specimen of his kind, measuring about
eleven feet in length. His coat was reddish-brown, now grown
somewhat shabby, owing to his long confinement in the narrow cage. A
small patch of white fur marked either side of his muzzle. His
snarling lips showed jet black, also the tip of his tail, which he
lashed angrily. His eyes, which Lhoks half closed when angry or
cross, were of gleaming greenish yellow, showing golden lights. Over
his cage door one might read: "Panther, or American Lion."
It happened three years before, that Lhoks and two other small
panther cubs had been left alone by the old panthers, who went off to
hunt; feeling lonely, but full of mischief and play, they came out of
their safe den, to frolic upon a wide flat ledge. There upon the
rock they all played together happily, rolling over each other and
cuffing with their clumsy kitten-like paws. And there the hunter
came across them, and so young and unafraid were the small panthers
that they allowed the man to carry them off. When the old panthers
returned to the den it was quite empty; their babies were gone. For
days and days they followed vainly the long trail of the robber, with
red, revengeful eyes, but they never caught up with him.
Two of the cubs died in captivity, but Lhoks, stronger and more lusty
than the others, lived. For three years he had travelled with the
menagerie, but he hated the life, and with all the longing in his
heart he would dream, in his wild way, of the dark, sweet scented
woods, the safe retreats where he might hide in secret, silent places
of his forest. Most of all did he hate the blare of the loud music,
which made him howl, and deeply too did he resent the staring eyes of
the curious crowds. Sullenly he would glower back at them. Often he
felt weak and sick in the close confining quarters of his hated cage;
so much so, that he would stretch out his tawny body miserably upon
the floor and lie there for hours. But alas for poor Lhoks during
show hours, should he chance to appear stupid and sleepy and ill when
the people came to stare at him! Then someone was sure to reach into
his cage with a long red pole, to the end of which was attached a
cruel, sharp spike, and then they would poke and prod the poor animal
until he got upon his feet. Just one sharp prod of the spike was
usually enough to make Lhoks jump up and snarl and begin once more
his endless pacing back and forth, from end to end of his prison.
Then the delighted crowd would shiver and exclaim at his dreadful
fierceness, and often poke him playfully with canes or umbrellas,
just to make him yell loudly. The howls of Lhoks the panther were
terrifying, and when he screamed out it usually stirred up all the
other animals of the menagerie.
If Lhoks hated the crowds, he soon learned to dread most of all the
long, overland journeys by rail. Then the cages would all be loaded
upon goods trucks, and for days they would rumble and jolt and sway
dizzily in their close, ill-smelling quarters; if water was not
handy, sometimes the attendants neglected them, and forgot that the
poor caged things were very thirsty. Often at the end of a trip they
arrived faint, car-sick, and so exhausted they were barely able to
stagger to their cramped legs.
The season for the menagerie was drawing to its close, and they were
about to go East for the winter. The glittering cages had been
opened to the public for the last time in a small Western town, where
the wondering boys and girls had taken their last look at Lhoks, the
panther, and his wild companions. The last cage had been loaded upon
the truck, and the long, heavy train started out upon its journey.
Old King, the lion, had died, and most of the other animals showed
only too plainly the effects of their long confinement and hard life.
The tawny coat of poor Lhoks was shabbiest of all. It actually
looked moth-eaten in places, and his sides showed plainly enough the
scars which the sharp spike had made. His ribs were seen through his
lean hide, for he had almost lost his appetite; he felt weak and
discouraged. So he just lay stretched listlessly upon the floor of
his cage, while the long train jolted and screamed its way across the
flat country of the West. Fortunately, the cage of the panther had
been placed in such a position that Lhoks soon discovered that by
standing upon his hind legs he could actually peer out through his
small, grated window at the country through which they journeyed. In
this respect, he was more lucky than the others, for the gazelle and
hyena cages had been placed with their small, ventilating windows
pushed up against the other cages, so they could not look out.
For many days, whenever Lhoks chanced to look forth from his small
window, they appeared to be passing over the same flat, uninteresting
plain, although occasionally he caught a fleeting glimpse of forest
and hills in the distance. At night he would lie flat gazing up
longingly, managing to catch a peep at the little winking stars, and
sometimes, when it was bright moonlight, he would grow very restless
and unhappy, pacing up and down, howling dismally. How he hated the
commotion and loud noises about the goods yards, when their train was
shunted back and forth over points, creaking and squealing, with much
loose rattling of rusty iron couplings, and yells from the
railwaymen, who swung red-eyed lanterns, and ran swiftly and lightly
over the tops of the cages.
Finally, after many weary days, for their train was a very slow one,
Lhoks began to brighten up, for the air which now found its way into
his close cage had begun to change and freshen; now he would stand at
his small, barred window and sniff in long drafts of it with keen
delight. Also, Lhoks saw that they had now left the disagreeable,
flat country, and were speeding through wild forests, where giant
spruce and pines grew dense and tall. Off in the distance there were
glimpses of purple chains of mountains, and rolling, peaceful hills.
From that time on, Lhoks became a changed animal; as by magic all his
weariness appeared to vanish; he was once more himself, wild and
alert. All night he would stand now at the window just breathing in
the tonic of this fine, new air, the bracing odours which came from
thousands of fragrant balsams and pines. For, although Lhoks did not
suspect it, he happened to be passing, at that time, right through
the very heart of his own home country, the land where perhaps even
then his parents were still roving wild and free through the hidden
jungles of the great North woods.
The long, snake-like train rumbled and screeched its way through the
night, hooting and echoing through the deep mountain cuts, then
gliding out over long moonlit stretches, where moist odours from the
woods came in waves to poor Lhoks in his prison cage.
"Chuck, chuck, chuck-chuck, chuck," repeated the iron truck wheels,
over and over again, almost like the rhythm of some tiresome song.
Then, suddenly, on ahead, the great engine began to send forth hoot
after hoot, strange alarm cries, whistlings and screechings which
echoed through the silent forest. Lhoks instinctively knew something
had happened, and leaped to his feet. The next moment the heavy
truck, cages and all, had been tossed from the rails and lay a
splintered mass at the foot of a deep cutting.
Something wonderful happened to Lhoks, the panther, for his cage had
chanced to fall right side up, and one wall of it had actually fallen
out; he was free--free at last. It took a few seconds for the poor
wild thing to discover that he was a prisoner no longer, after
spending so many long, hateful years in his close cage. But very
soon all his old, wild nature asserted itself, and he made out that
there were tall waving pines all about him, instead of walls and iron
bars, and beneath a dense, black jungle of spruce--fine places to
hide. Gathering up all his strength, with one long leap Lhoks, the
captive, bounded off to his freedom and the shelter of the woods.
Of course, in the excitement which followed the wreck, no one thought
of looking for the panther; for, as it happened, he was the only
animal which had managed to escape alive. Lhoks could not travel so
very fast at first, for he had a touch of rheumatism, and his legs
were almost stiff from long confinement, while his usually sharp
claws were quite worn off and dulled. So he skulked along the
ground, hiding himself in some deep, wooded retreat far away from the
shouts of the railwaymen. Having rested he finally began to take
some interest in his appearance, groomed his roughened coat and
sharpened his dull claws upon a log. Suddenly he realized that he
was hungry. Oh, how delightedly did he quench his thirst at a
beautiful, fern-grown pool. Then one day he discovered the trail of
a lone wood-cutter and followed it for hours, because he began to
feel lonely, and also was hungry. Perhaps he imagined that the man
would feed him, as had his keeper. It was lucky for poor, trusting
Lhoks that the man did not spy him, or he might have been shot, for
the man would surely have supposed the panther was trailing _him_ for
its prey.
Lhoks forsook the man's trail finally, and that day he managed to
catch a rabbit, which served him very well. For weeks so wandered
the poor, solitary panther all alone over the wild forest trails.
Each day fresh strength and courage came to him; already his tawny
coat had lost its roughness; the new hair was coming in, filling the
deep scars upon his sides with soft, fine fur. Suddenly he began to
feel so very happy that for sheer playfulness, and because of his
loneliness, he would play kittenishly, rolling and pawing about a
round stone which he found; springing high in the air he would often
chase his own shadow down the moonlit trails; occasionally, he would
strive to gain some almost forgotten scent, then he would lift his
black muzzle and utter a long, lonely yell--a cry in the night, once
heard, never forgotten, this yell of a panther--just a pleading cry
for his lost companions for whom he yearned.
Once Lhoks met with an encounter which he never forgot. He happened
upon a round ball of curious appearance which lay right in his path,
and feeling in a playful mood, he boldly jumped at the thing, tossing
it about. Then suddenly the bundle unrolled itself, an ugly blunt
snout appeared, and two sullen angry eyes glared at him insolently.
Before he could back away, a prickly tail slapped him smartly right
across his soft, black muzzle, and it was filled with quills. After
that, Lhoks, the panther, never forgot how Unk-Wunk, the porcupine,
looked when he rolled himself into a ball and went to sleep upon the
trail. It became harder to find food down in the lowlands, so Lhoks
took to the mountain passes, and thus it happened, one memorable day,
he chanced upon a strangely familiar, alluring scent. For a day he
trailed it, drawing gradually nearer and nearer, and as he found the
scent keener, Lhoks began to feel greatly excited, filled with
courage and hope, for he had stumbled across an old trail of one of
his own kindred.
[Illustration: SUDDENLY THE BALL UNROLLED ITSELF, AND AN UGLY BLUNT
SNOUT APPEARED.]
With his wild senses all alert, Lhoks now continued to follow
patiently the trail. It brought him at last out upon a plateau, or
clearing. Closer and closer to the edge of the ledgy plateau crept
Lhoks, now crawling low upon his stomach, exactly like a cat. Then,
having gained the edge, hanging his great tawny head over the rock,
he peered with curious, wistful eyes at the strangely beautiful sight
spread just beneath him. Upon a jutting rock frolicked five panther
cubs; little furry creatures they were, barred with dark tiger-like
stripes, as are all young panthers. There in the sunshine they were
playing innocently, while Lhoks watched them wistfully and anxiously,
with half-shut, curious yellow eyes, his whole body shaking and
trembling with nervous longing to be with them. Even the tip of his
tail lashed the rock frantically, so interested had he become in the
kitten cubs. They were quite alone, for the mother panther, having
lost her mate, was even now away seeking food for them.
At last, unable to withstand the cunning ways of the cubs an instant
longer, Lhoks leaped lightly down among them, and so trusting were
they that he became acquainted with them at once. When the mother
panther returned, she found a stranger with her babies, playing with
them, letting them roll over him and tease him roughly, mauling him
about as they would, while Lhoks, the lonely one, lay stretched out
contentedly purring for sheer happiness. Strangely enough the mother
panther did not resent the appearance of Lhoks; perhaps she imagined
he would be useful in helping her forage for food for her family. At
any rate, she welcomed him with peaceful purrs, and so all was well.
Thus did Lhoks, the panther, come back to his kindred once again in
the heart of the great forest.