UNDER THE BANK.
A few minutes later an open space appeared in front of the boat. It
was the month of the tributary flowing into the Ganges from the left or
north, and was more than a hundred yards across. Since it was
necessary to stem the current in order to take advantage of this
refuge, the doctor contemplated it with misgiving, for the work of
poling it up stream promised to be laborious. He had not forgotten his
original plan of abandoning the boat and striking across the country on
foot, taking advantage of the less-frequented roads and paths that were
well known to him. He was relieved, however, to find the flow so
languid that it was easy to make headway against it.
"I have never followed this stream far," he remarked, "and, therefore,
have less knowledge of it than the rest of the country, but my
impression is that it cannot serve us long."
"It will be time enough to leave the boat and take to the woods when we
can go no further," said Jack Everson; "but we cannot get away from the
main stream too soon."
This was self-evident. It was not likely that the natives after their
decisive repulse would abandon their purpose of massacring the party,
but they would be more guarded in what they did and probably secure
reinforcements, an easy thing to do when the sanguinary wretches
everywhere were thirsting for victims.
Jack had seized one of the poles, and he and young Wharton plied them
with so much sturdiness that the heavy craft made better progress than
at any time since it was used as a vehicle of safety. The course of
the tributary was winding, and our friends had not gone far when they
were shut out from the sight of any persons passing up and down the
main river, even if close to the northern bank.
Would the natives suspect the course taken by the whites? That was the
all-important question that must soon be answered. After searching up
and down the Ganges without success, it was likely they would penetrate
the stratagem and follow them, in which event the fugitives would be in
a critical situation, since the straightness of the stream and the
wooded shores would place them at much greater disadvantage than if
they remained upon the Ganges.
When the boat had ascended the tributary for perhaps an eighth of a
mile it was deemed safe to lessen the work of poling. Careful
listening failed to detect any sound of pursuit, and there was ground
for hoping that their enemies neither knew nor suspected what had been
done.
Several facts had become apparent. The densely wooded shores offered
excellent concealment. By running the boat beneath the dense branches
and among the heavy vegetation the keenest-eyed Asiatics might pass up
or down stream almost within arm's length without suspecting its
presence. But the tributary had perceptibly narrowed and its current
was swifter than at the mouth. All this pointed to the truth of what
Dr. Marlowe suspected--the stream could not serve them much further.
The night was now so far advanced that the women took the advice of
their friends and withdrew to the cabin for slumber. Their quarters
were cramped, but they made themselves fairly comfortable. The night
was cooler than the day, but only sufficiently so to be pleasant. It
was not deemed probable that anything would be seen of their enemies
before the morrow, and perhaps not even then.
Dr. Marlowe insisted upon taking his turn in poling, but since there
were four vigorous men without him, they would not consent. When two
had toiled for an hour or more, they gave way to the other couple, and
the progress thus continued without interruption, while the time slowly
dragged along. The resting spells gave each the opportunity for sleep,
thus husbanding their vigor for the morrow. Finding that there was
nothing to which he could turn his hand, the physician reclined at the
bow and soon joined the others in dreamland.
It was probably one o'clock when Jack Everson, who had been sleeping
for nearly an hour, was awakened by a gentle shaking of his shoulder.
Opening his eyes and looking up he saw Wharton bending over him.
"All right," remarked the American; "I'm ready for my turn," and he
rose, yawning, to his feet.
"I think we had better rest until morning."
"Why?"
"The current has become so rapid that it is hard to make progress; this
stream can't be of much further use to us."
It needed but a glance around in the gloom to see that it was as his
friend had declared. The boat was so close to the left-hand shore that
it was held motionless by Anderson at the bow, who gripped an
overhanging branch, with one hand. The water rippled around the front
of the craft, and when Jack dipped the end of one of the poles into the
current it swept downward at a rate that astonished him.
"I esteem your advice good," he said, "but it will not do to leave the
boat in sight."
With the help of the limbs and the use of the poles it was easy to
force the craft under the bank, where it was screened from observation.
Then it was secured in place against drifting and all work for the time
was over.
Wharton and Jack Everson were the only persons awake. The women had
been sleeping for several hours, while Anderson and Turner had long
since joined the venerable doctor in the realms of unconsciousness.
The two young men sat down where they could speak in low tones without
being overheard.
"It won't do for all of us to sleep at the same time," remarked Jack;
"the scoundrels may be creeping up stream after us."
"That is hardly possible; I am sure that for the present we are as safe
as if in the heart of London."
"I cannot believe as you do; since I have just enjoyed an hour's sleep
I will act as sentinel until daybreak. I can easily keep awake for the
few hours that remain."
"As you think best, though I am sure it is an unnecessary precaution."
"We must not forget that there are perils from the jungle as well as
from the river. There is no saying what wild beast may pay us a visit."
Inasmuch as Jack could not be dissuaded from his purpose, and Wharton
began to suspect his friend was half right, the question was decided.
Wharton stretched out on the deck, falling asleep almost immediately,
and Jack thus found himself the only one with his senses at command and
with the safety of the others dependent upon him.
He took his place near the cabin, where the women were slumbering, with
his breechloader in hand. He was never more wide awake and was sure he
would remain so for hours to come. Wharton had offered to divide the
duty with him in acting as sentinel, but our hero preferred to keep the
matter in his own hands. He was sure his friend did not realize the
full peril of their situation.
The stillness was broken only by the peculiar cries in the jungle,
which it may be said were never wholly silent. First on the right,
then on the left, then from the front, and again from different points
on both sides of the stream he heard the sounds, some faint and far
away, with others alarmingly close. The hoarse snarl of the tiger, the
finer cry of the leopard, the squawking of night birds, with other
noises that he could not identify, were continually in the air. Had
they been heard for the first time he would have been in a tremor of
fear and nervousness; but man soon becomes accustomed to danger, and
the nearest must come still nearer to cause his pulse an additional
throb.
Jack Everson was sensible that through this medley of strange noises
there was one sound that was continuous and never changing. So faint
that at first he and Wharton failed to notice it, it now impressed
itself too distinctly upon his consciousness for him to be mistaken.
It was a low, steady hum or moaning, such as the traveller hears when
miles inland from the ocean. He could not identify it, though he made
several guesses, and was still speculating unsatisfactorily, when he
received a startling reminder that there was a new peril at his very
feet.
The first notice was a faint purring sound, as if made by a gigantic
cat, accompanied by a rustling of the vegetation scarcely a dozen feet
away. He instantly grasped his rifle with both hands and was alert.
It was impossible to distinguish ordinary objects in the gloom, but
suddenly two small circles glittered with a greenish light and the
purring was succeeded by a low, cavernous growl. Then it all became
clear to him: a royal Bengal tiger was stealing upon the boat and was
probably gathering himself for a leap at that very moment.
Had all the occupants been asleep the frightful terror would have
played sad havoc with them before they could defend themselves. As it
was, it looked as if more than one fatality must follow his attack.
But for that phosphorescent gleam of the brute's eyes Jack Everson
would not have been able to locate him, but the glow of the two objects
defined the outlines and locality of the horrible thing as unmistakably
as if the sun were overhead. The occasion was one in which everything
depended upon promptness. The tiger was likely to shift his position
and turn his head so that the eyes would fail to show.
Jack reflected that there probably were a number of spots in the
anatomy of the jungle terror that were more vulnerable than others;
that a well-aimed bullet might be instantly fatal in one, while able to
inflict only a partial wound in another. Be that as it may, he was
sure that a conical bullet driven between the eyes and through bone,
muscle and brain by a rifle that could kill a man at the distance of a
mile must do effective work when that brain was not a dozen feet
distant from the muzzle of the weapon. At any rate, there was no time
for inquiry and he did not hesitate.
Aiming for a point midway between the gleaming orbs he pressed the
trigger. It takes a well-aimed weapon to kill a royal Bengal tiger,
even at a short distance, but Jack's rifle was well aimed. The tiny
sphere of lead darted through the brain and along the spinal marrow as
if fired with the vicious energy of a charge of dynamite.
It so happened that the tiger was in the act of making his graceful but
fearful leap that was to land him upon the breast of the young man, who
had risen to his feet just before firing. The check at that instant
produced a queer result, the like of which is not often seen. The
shock of the bullet crashing into the head of the muscular beast at the
instant he was calling into play his prodigious strength intensified
that strength to a sudden and astonishing degree. The consequence was
that the tiger, instead of making the leap he intended, made one twice
as great and overshot the mark. From out the gloom the beautiful
sinewy body, of which only a glimpse could be caught, emerged as if
fired from the throat of a Columbiad and, curving over the shoulders of
the man and the boat, dropped into the stream with a splash that sent
the water flying in every direction.
Beyond the line of shadow, where the faint moonlight fell upon him, the
tiger was seen to be a beast of extraordinary size. He emitted one
rasping snarl while sailing through the air, but was already dead when
he fell into the water, where it could not be seen he had made a
struggle. The sinewy body dipped out of sight, bobbed up again and the
next minute was swept beyond view by the rapid current.
Rather strangely, not one of the women was awakened by the report of
the rifle so near them, and of the men Dr. Marlowe and Anderson were
the only ones who rose to a sitting posture and anxiously inquired the
cause of the firing.
"I discovered an animal prowling near the boat," replied Jack, who
thought it well not to disturb them with the whole truth, "and I winged
him."
"You are sure you killed him?" asked the doctor; "most likely it was a
tiger."
"I am quite sure of that, and am just as sure that, considered strictly
as a tiger, he is of no further account. I made another bull's-eye in
his case."
"How many is that?" asked the physician, entering into the spirit of
the jest.
"My fifth, counting only those that I am sure of."
"You are doing well; keep it up; let the good work go on," replied the
elder, again adjusting himself for slumber, quite content to leave the
valiant young American in charge of the boat and its occupants. Jack
had it in mind to question him about that distant murmuring sound that
puzzled him, but when ready to do so he discovered that the doctor was
again asleep and he did not disturb him.
The fact that one denizen of the jungle had paid the boat a visit was
ground for looking for a call from another. Jack remained, therefore,
on the alert, and though under ordinary circumstances he would have
fallen asleep he kept wide awake until the growing light in the sky
told of the coming day. Before the sun was fairly above the horizon
all were astir. They bathed faces and hands in the roiled water and
greeted one another with thankfulness that the night had passed without
harm to any member of the little company.
When the three men and their wives fled from Meerut they took with them
enough food to last for several days. There is little excuse for
people dying of starvation in any part of India, though sad to say it
is only recently that thousands were swept away by famine. Fruit is
abundant and little meat is necessary in hot countries. Before the
morning meal was partaken of Jack Everson asked Dr. Marlowe to explain
the cause of the low moaning noise that had been in his ears for moat
of the night. The elder listened for a minute and replied:
"What I expected! We are very near the head of navigation; that sound
comes from falls or rapids, above which we cannot go with this boat."
This announcement precipitated a discussion as to what was the best
course to follow. The physician left no doubt of his sentiments.
"The devils will be prowling up this stream within a few hours; I
should not be surprised if they are near us this moment; the boat is of
no further use to us."
The three, Anderson, Turner and Wharton, did not agree with him. The
craft had served them so well that they were unwilling to abandon it.
They seemed to believe that it offered a much safer means of defense
than they could find anywhere on land.
"But you cannot stay forever on it," protested the doctor impatiently.
"We do not expect to," replied Anderson; "we may decide to descend to
the Ganges again, and continue down the river."
"Whither?"
"To Cawnpore or some point nearer."
The doctor was aghast.
"You mean to leap straight into the hornet's nest; those are the
places, of all others, that must be avoided."
"It may be as you say, but I am hopeful that the English garrisons have
been able to hold out against the mutineers."
"It is a woeful mistake, my friend; if you persist in it we must part
company."