"DEATH TO THE ROGUE."
As soon as the elephant was fairly out of sight, the besieged took
counsel among themselves about descending to the earth. They were
sorely tired of the positions which they had been so long constrained to
keep; for, to tell the truth, sitting astride upon the hard branch of a
tree, though easy enough for a short spell, becomes in time so painful
as to be almost unendurable. Caspar especially had grown impatient of
this irksome inaction; and highly exasperated at the _rogue_ who was
forcing it upon them. Several times had he been on the point of
forsaking his perch, and stealing down for his gun; but Karl, each time
perceiving his design, very prudently persuaded him to forego it.
All were anxious enough to get out of the tree; and they would have
vacated their sents at once on the disappearance of their dreaded enemy,
had they been certain that he was gone for good; but they were
suspicious that it might be only a temporary absence--perhaps some
_ruse_ of the rogue to decoy them down: for elephants of this character
have been known to practise tricks with almost as much cunning as rogues
among men.
While holding counsel as to how they had best act, Ossaroo cut short
their deliberations by volunteering to descend first; and by stealing a
short way along the track which the elephant had taken, ascertain
whether he was really gone from the ground, or only tying in ambush near
the skirt of the forest.
As the shikaree could creep through underwood as silently as a snake,
there could be no great danger in his doing this, provided he did not go
too far. He could not fail to see the elephant before approaching too
near to it; and in the event of its turning and pursuing him, he could
once more flee to their tree-fortress.
He scarcely waited for the consent of his companions; but, immediately
after conceiving the idea, he let himself down among the branches; and
once on the ground, glided hurriedly, but cautiously, off in the
direction taken by the elephant.
Karl and Caspar stayed some five minutes longer upon their perch; but
the shikaree not returning as soon as they had expected, they became
impatient, and also dropped down from the tree.
Their first act was to recover their guns, and reload them; and then,
taking stand in a position from which, in case of being suddenly
attacked, they could easily spring back among the branches, they awaited
the return of Ossaroo.
A considerable time elapsed, without their either seeing or hearing
aught of the shikaree. Indeed they heard nothing: for a complete
silence reigned around them, broken only now and then by the fluttering
of the wings of the old male hornbill--who was still keeping in the
neighbourhood of the nest, apparently puzzled to make out by what
mysterious combination of circumstances he had been so abruptly
disembarrassed of his adversary, the panda.
The movements of the bird had no longer any interest for Karl and
Caspar--who were beginning to grow uneasy at the prolonged absence of
Ossaroo.
Soon after, however, they were relieved from their suspense, by seeing
the shikaree emerging from the underwood, and advancing at a quick pace
to the open ground. They had the additional pleasure of beholding Fritz
following at his heels. The dog had joined Ossaroo near the edge of the
timber--where he had been quietly secreting himself from the eyes of the
dreaded elephant.
As Ossaroo drew near, both Karl and Caspar noticed an expression upon
his countenance, which, combined with his hurried advance, told that he
had something of an important nature to communicate.
"Well, Ossy," asked Caspar, who was the first to speak, "what news?
Have you seen anything more of the rogue?"
"Ah, rogue indeed!" replied Ossaroo, in a tone expressive of some secret
fear. "You speakee true, sahib; the rogue, if he no worse."
"Why, what now? Have you seen anything since you left us?"
"Seen, sahibs! Where you tinkee he now gone?"
"Where?"
"Hee go for de hut."
"For the hut?"
"Straight trackee. Ah, sahibs!" continued the shikaree, speaking in a
low voice and with an air of superstitious terror; "dat animal too wise
for dis world; he know too much. I fear him be no elephan' after all,
but only de devil, who hab takee elephan' shape. Why he go back there?"
"Ah! why, I wonder," inquired Caspar. "Do you think," added he, "it is
in the hope of finding us there? If that's his purpose," he continued,
without waiting for a reply, "we shall have no peace so long as he
remains alive. We must either kill him, or he will do as much for us."
"Sahibs," observed the Hindoo, with a significant shake of the head, "we
no able killee him; that elephan' he nebba die."
"Oh, nonsense, Ossy! If that's what you mean," rejoined Caspar,
disdainfully repudiating the superstitious belief of the shikaree;
"there is not much doubt of our being able to kill him, if we once get a
fair shot; and by my word, the sooner we set about it the better. It's
evident, from his having gone back to our hut, that he has some wicked
design. Very likely he remembers being first attacked there by Fritz;
and as he may be under the belief that the dog has retreated there, he
is gone in search of him. Ho, Fritz, old fellow! you needn't be afraid.
You can easily get out of his way, whenever you like. Your masters are
in more danger than you, my boy."
"You are sure, Ossaroo," said Karl, who had stood for some time silently
reflecting, "you are sure he has gone to the hut?"
In reply to this interrogation, Ossaroo would not state positively that
he had seen the elephant arrive on the very spot where the hovel stood;
but he had followed his track through the belt of heavy timber; and
then, having climbed a tree, had descried the great quadruped moving in
the direction of the hut. He had no doubt it was for that point he was
making, though with what design Ossaroo could not guess--his
superstitious dread having hindered him from venturing upon any
conjecture.
"One thing is clear," said Karl, after another interval spent in
reflection: "it will be no list our attempting to continue the survey we
have commenced, until the elephant be got out of the way. What you say,
brother Caspar, is quite true. Now that he has become aware of our
presence, and has, moreover, been roused to fury by the wounds we have
given him, it is not likely he will forget what has passed; and we can
hope for neither peace nor safety till we have succeeded in destroying
him. There is no reason why we should not set about it at once, but
every reason why we should. Our very lives depend upon his destruction;
and they will not be safe till that has been accomplished."
"Let us after him at once, then," cried Caspar; "and be our motto,
`_Death to the rogue_'!"