A FIGHT WITH AN ELEPHANT
We sight a rogue--A sudden onslaught--A wild elephant's
attack--Shooting under difficulties--Stopping a
rush--Repeated attacks--An invulnerable foe--Darkness
stops the pursuit--A council of war--Picking up the
trail--A _muckna_--A female elephant--Photographing a
lady--A good sitter--A stampede--A gallant
Rajput--Attacking on foot--A hazardous feat--A narrow
escape--Final charge--A bivouac in the forest--Dangers
of the night--A long chase--Planter
hospitality--Another stampede--A career of
crime--Eternal hope--A king-cobra--Abandoning the
pursuit--An unrepentant villain--In the moment of
danger.
Khartoum stepped along at her usual deliberate pace through the jungle,
occasionally raising her trunk to sweep the leaves off a branch and cram
them into her mouth, or plucking a tuft of long grass to brush away the
troublesome flies. On her neck the _mahout_ swayed to the motion, while
I sat nursing my heavy .470 cordite rifle and talking to my orderly,
Draj Khan, seated behind me on the pad. He carried a .303 carbine. We
were passing through a patch of thin forest bare of undergrowth, when
Bechan pulled up suddenly and whispered:
"_Jungli hathi!_ (A wild elephant)."
About sixty yards ahead a large tusker was standing apparently half
asleep under the trees, its right side towards us. I wondered if, since
it was alone, I could consider it an outlaw which it would be
justifiable to shoot. The probabilities were, as there were no signs of
a herd in the vicinity, that it was a rogue. While I was mentally
debating the question I slipped a couple of solid cartridges into my
rifle. As I did so the elephant turned its head slowly and I saw that it
had only one tusk.
"_Sahib! Sahib! wuh budmash hai!_ (It is the rogue!") whispered Bechan
excitedly.
At that moment it caught sight of us. Without hesitation, it turned and
charged straight at us. There was no doubt now of its being a rogue; and
probably it was Jhansi's assailant and the murderer of the Gurkha. I
wished to wait until it was near enough for me to make sure of a fatal
head-shot; but Khartoum became alarmed and tried to bolt. The _mahout_
did his best to stop her.
"Shoot, Sahib, shoot! My elephant will not stand," he cried, beating her
savagely with the iron _ankus_.
So, as I could not get a shot at the head as the animal came through the
trees at us, I fired at its shoulder in the hope of laming it and
bringing it to a stand, so that I could finish it at close quarters. But
it did not seem to feel the bullet and never checked in its stride. I
was being favoured with a spectacle which it is not given to many
sportsmen in India to witness. Sanderson says of it that
"the wild elephant's attack is one of the noblest sights of the chase. A
grander animated object than a wild elephant in full charge can hardly
be imagined. The cocked ears and broad forehead present an immense
frontage; the head is held high with the trunk curled between the tusks
to be uncurled in the moment of attack; the massive forelegs come down
with the force and regularity of ponderous machinery; and the whole
figure is foreshortened, and appears to double in size with each
advancing stride. The wild elephant's onslaught is as dignified as it
seems overwhelming."
I confess that at the moment I was little disposed to admire the
spectacle. Khartoum plunged and swayed until I was nearly shot off her
back. If she stampeded our position would be extremely dangerous, for we
would probably be swept off her back by the branches and creepers; and
to be thrown to the ground in front of the pursuing rogue meant a
certain and awful death. Bechan, hammering furiously at Khartoum's thick
skull, yelled at me to fire; and my excited orderly kept urging me to
"kill the _budmash_." I fired again, and the tusker, checked in his
rush, swung off to one side. As he passed us among the trees, I gave him
a third bullet in the ribs at forty yards. The report of my rifle had an
almost instantaneously calming effect on Khartoum. She desisted from her
efforts to bolt; and when I ordered the _mahout_ to follow the fleeing
rogue, she obeyed him and moved off quietly. We came on him about a
quarter of a mile away in much denser jungle. He was standing sideways
to us; and I took a steady shot at his ear, which should have been
fatal. But instead of dropping to it, he swung round and charged us
again. I told my orderly to aim at his knee, while I fired at his
forehead. The two shots rang out together; but the apparently
invulnerable brute only turned and fled. He was, however, limping badly;
and I quickened his flight with another bullet. This time Khartoum had
stood like a rock. We urged her on after him and overtook him partially
concealed behind a stout tree-trunk. He seemed on the point of
collapsing on the ground. But the moment he caught sight of us he
charged again. My orderly and I aimed at the same spots as before and
fired together. But the brute bore a charmed life. He swung off and
dashed into thick jungle, but not before I could get another shot at
him. The undergrowth closed around him and hid him from our sight. We
followed at once on his track and found the bushes and grass splashed
with blood. Every moment I expected to come upon him lying dead or
dying. None of our shots had missed him; so he carried eight bullets
from my heavy rifle and two from Draj Khan's carbine. It seemed
impossible that he could live long. The trail was an easy one to follow
and we found no difficulty in distinguishing it from old tracks; for he
was evidently limping badly. One of his forelegs seemed to be useless;
and where he had passed across a dry river-bed we found the impressions
of three sound feet and the marks of the fourth trailing helplessly. But
for all that we did not overtake him until we had covered three miles.
We came upon him standing head towards us under a tree in thorny
undergrowth. We stopped Khartoum about thirty yards from him; and he
never moved as we took deliberate aim. We fired; and the shock of my
heavy bullet in the skull drove him back on his haunches in the
undergrowth. But again he recovered his footing and dashed away before
we could get in a second shot. I was absolutely amazed at his tenacity
of life and began to think that it was useless wasting lead on him; but
we forced our way through the thorns and followed until the sun sank
low in the sky. Then, marking a spot where the trail led across a broad
and empty river-bed, I gave the order to turn Khartoum's head towards
camp, resolved to take up the pursuit next day. I thought it highly
probable that we should find the animal dead; for he now had twelve
bullets in him.
At the time the detachment was inhabiting a stockaded post we had built
in the jungle; and the men were out practising bush warfare in the
forest every day. The spot where I first encountered the rogue was
hardly a mile from this post. It was imperative that I should find and
finally dispose of him, for I could not expose my sepoys to the danger
of an unexpected meeting with him while engaged in their work; and the
jungle would be absolutely unsafe while he was in the neighbourhood. He
was almost undoubtedly the elephant which had wounded Jhansi and killed
the Gurkha; and there were probably many more crimes to his account. His
first unprovoked attack on us, and the daring of his repeated charges
after being wounded, showed that he was a vicious and formidable brute;
and the forest would be uninhabitable until he had been slain or driven
far away.
When we reached camp that night I held a council of war with Captain
Balderston and our native officers. It was resolved that I should take
out with me next day one of our _subhedars_, a fine old Rajput named
Sohanpal Singh, and his orderly on a second elephant. We determined to
bring blankets and food with us, so that we could follow the trail for
days if necessary, bivouacking wherever night found us. I hoped that,
badly wounded as the animal was, the pursuit would not be a long one;
but I was prepared to carry it on for days, if necessary.
[Illustration: SUBHEDAR SOHANPAL SINGH.]
At daybreak we started out, Sohanpal Singh and his orderly on Dundora,
while Draj Khan and I led the way on Khartoum. The three were armed with
Government .303 rifles, while I had my cordite rifle. Our blankets were
strapped on the pads, and our haversacks were filled with food. I
carried a loaf of bread and a tin of corned beef in mine; while my
Thermos flask was filled with limejuice and boiled water. Thus equipped,
we started out amidst the cheers of the sepoys, who had been deeply
interested in the account of the fights we had had on the previous day.
Our route lay by a jungle village called Rungamutti, two miles from our
stockade; and a couple of hours after we had passed it we picked up the
elephant's trail.
The jungle across the river-bed where we had stopped the pursuit was at
first fairly open; and I hoped that we should find our quarry in it. We
came on the spot where he had passed the night. The grass was pressed
down all around and was covered with blood. This was encouraging; and we
went on full of hope. Suddenly through the trees we caught sight of an
elephant standing sideways to us. The mahouts halted their animals and
we brought our rifles to the ready.
But Bechan whispered, "That is not the _budmash_, Sahib. See, it has no
tusks."
It was a _muckna_ or tuskerless male. These are generally timid beasts,
being constantly bullied in the herds by the males provided by Nature
with weapons of offence. As soon as this one caught sight of us it
bolted away through the jungle. We watched its headlong flight and then
continued on the trail. A mile or two further on the jungle had the
appearance of an English wood and the ground was carpeted with ferns. In
an open glade we saw another elephant. It was a female; and, although it
turned its head and looked at us, it did not evince any alarm. So I
determined to try to secure a photograph of it. I handed my rifle to
Draj Khan and took up my Kodak. The wild elephant stood still while I
opened and adjusted the camera and pressed the bulb. As soon as the
click of the shutter announced that the operation was over, she turned
and moved slowly off into the jungle, while I waved my hat to her and
expressed my thanks for her courtesy in waiting until I had taken her
portrait. Unfortunately I had been too far off to secure a really good
photograph, which was to be regretted, for such pictures are, naturally,
extremely rare.
After her departure we moved on again. The forest grew denser; and the
thick and entangled undergrowth delayed our progress; for, of course, a
tame elephant with a pad and men on her back cannot slip through it as
easily as an unencumbered wild one can do. So we were continually
obliged to make detours and could not follow the trail closely.
About eleven o'clock in the morning a sudden crash in the jungle a
hundred yards ahead of us startled our elephants. Before the _mahouts_
could stop them they swung round and stampeded. It was my first
experience of being bolted with; and it was decidedly unpleasant.
Dundora, which had been behind, was now leading, and dashed through the
trees, followed closely by Khartoum. As the noise had apparently been
caused by the rogue, I tried to turn round on the pad, ready to fire.
And doing so, while at the same time endeavouring to hold on and dodge
the boughs and creepers overhead, was no easy task. Over and over again
I was nearly swept off. Luckily the _mahouts_ soon got their elephants
in hand and stopped them. Then we cautiously advanced again, expecting
every moment that the rogue would charge out on us. But when we reached
the spot whence the noise had proceeded we found by the trail that he
had been lying down and, startled by our appearance, had risen and fled.
We urged our elephants forward. The chase was becoming exciting. We
followed as fast as we could go, hoping every minute to catch sight of
the quarry. The jungle was growing more difficult and we made slow
progress.
[Illustration: "WE SAW ANOTHER ELEPHANT."]
At last, after three hours, we heard him. He was concealed in a dense
thicket of thorny undergrowth. We skirted cautiously round it, hoping to
see him and get a shot. But, although we could hear him, he was
completely hidden. At length my native officer said:
"Sahib, why should we men be afraid of an animal? Let us attack him on
foot."
The plucky old man had, in his own country and armed only with a sword,
ridden at a tiger; but he did not realise that we were now facing a far
more dangerous foe. His proposal was madness. The jungle was almost
impenetrable, and we could not see five yards ahead in it. But before I
could dissuade him the gallant old Rajput slid from Dundora's back,
followed by his orderly, and walked towards the thicket. It was useless
to try and stop him; so, cursing his foolhardiness, I dropped to the
ground with Draj Khan. As I had the best rifle I pushed the others aside
and got in front. But I had to reckon with the devotion of the native
soldier for his British officer. They tried to prevent me from taking
the post of danger and pulled me back. We had a ridiculous struggle for
precedence, which was liable to be turned into a tragedy by the rogue's
appearance at any moment. With difficulty I had my own way; though I
certainly felt no desire to go first into what I knew was a mad
undertaking. But it was only when I tried to force my way into the
thicket that I fully realised our folly. The tangled vegetation was
composed of thickly interlaced thorny bushes; I can only compare it to
strong fishing-nets studded freely with hooks. Torn and bleeding from a
dozen scratches I tried to worm my way in. Then to my horror I heard the
rogue bursting through it at us. I was pinned down by the thorny
branches, bound around by pliant creepers, unable to stand upright or
even raise my rifle. I certainly thought that my last hour had come;
for, securely pinioned by the cruel vegetation, I was helpless. The men
behind me were in the same plight. But at that moment the _mahouts_
saved us. Realising our extreme danger, they bravely urged their
elephants into the thicket after us. The rogue at the sight of them
stopped dead. Though he was not five yards from me, I could not
distinguish him clearly, so dense was the undergrowth, but could only
make out portions of his body through the tangle. He retreated a few
paces, and we tried to scramble out. I could not turn; but shoving my
legs out backwards, I tore myself free from the vicious thorns and
retired face to the foe. My rifle was at full cock and I was afraid
that the triggers might be caught by the twigs, but I dared not lower
the hammers. Foot by foot I forced my way back slowly and painfully.
When I reached the edge of the thicket, my men, who had extricated
themselves, seized me and dragged me out. We looked at each other. I
don't know what colour I was; but my men were as nearly pale as it is
possible for a native to be. Even my brave old _subhedar's_ courage was
shaken. He had lost all desire to enter the thicket again, for the
danger had been really great. Had the rogue not stopped of his own
accord nothing could have saved me, and probably the others, from a most
unpleasant death. Of course I ought never to have attempted to enter the
undergrowth, as I had fully realised the foolhardiness of it; but I
could not allow my sepoys to believe that I was afraid. However,
everybody now had quite enough of the attack on foot and gladly mounted
the elephants. We did so one by one, the others standing with rifles
ready to repel an assault. We circled round the thicket cautiously,
hoping to find an easier line of approach. Suddenly our vicious
antagonist came charging through the dense undergrowth straight at
Khartoum. I halted her ten yards from the edge of the covert. I could
vaguely make out the rogue's vast bulk bursting through the tangle, and
raised my rifle. Half his body was clear of the jungle, the head thrown
up, the trunk curled and the single tusk pointed menacingly at me, when
I fired straight at his forehead. The force of the blow drove him back
on his haunches into the undergrowth; while the native officer and the
two orderlies poured a volley into his side, one of the men getting in a
second shot. I could not see him clearly enough to give him the other
barrel, and I expected to hear him collapse at last. But, inconceivable
as it seems, he recovered himself, swung about and bolted out of the
other side of the thicket. I could hardly believe it; but we heard him
plainly enough as he dashed off through the jungle. I began to think
that it really was useless to waste lead on him; but we followed. He was
lost to sight; but the trail was plain. I looked at my watch; it was two
o'clock in the afternoon. From that hour until night fell we kept up the
pursuit. Obliged to desist owing to the darkness, I determined to
bivouac in the forest. We were now too far from the camp to return to
it. So we made our way along a river-bed until, near the foot of the
hills, we found water in it. Then dismounting we let our elephants drink
and prepared for the night. As the tracks of wild animals abounded in
the sand near the edge of the water, for the stream disappeared into the
ground here and it was the last drinking-place for miles, I ordered
fires to be lit around us; for, in the dark, wild elephants attracted by
Dundora and Khartoum might rush over us, or a hungry tiger might be
unable to resist the temptation of an easy meal provided by sleeping
men. My companions ate the _chupatties_ or flour cakes they carried with
them; while I dined on my bread and preserved meat. Then, telling off
one of our number to keep watch in turn, we rolled ourselves in our
blankets and lay down to sleep. A chill wind blew down from the
mountains and the damp sand made a cold bed; but in a few minutes
everyone but the sentry and I was asleep. I heard our elephants chained
on the bank tearing the branches from the trees near them. A sudden
spurt of flame from the fires lit up their huge bodies, which were
vague and shadowy in the flickering light. I looked at the stars
overhead and the faint outline of the mountains towering over us, until
at last fatigue overpowered me and I slept.
At daybreak next morning we turned out. On going to wash in the stream
we found the "pugs"[5] of a panther in the sand about fifty yards from
our bivouac, while a couple of hundred yards farther away the huge
footprints of elephants were plainly visible; so our fires had probably
saved us from some unwelcome visitors. I had to make a frugal breakfast
on the heel of the loaf and the last fragments of tinned meat, washed
down by a drink from the stream. The blankets were rolled up and
strapped on the elephants' backs; and we started to pick up the trail.
We found it without difficulty and followed it all day. It led us
towards the south away from the hills. But we could not come up with the
rogue. Night found us in the vicinity of a tea garden, the manager of
which I had met once; so I determined to claim his hospitality. When we
reached his bungalow I learned that he had ridden over to a neighbouring
estate, but was expected back to dinner. His native overseers took
charge of my party and found them food and shelter. After a long wait in
the bungalow I yielded to the persuasions of the owner's servant and ate
the excellent dinner he provided for me; then I lay down in the
guest-room and fell asleep. At midnight I was awakened by the return of
my unwitting host, who, however, made me thoroughly welcome when he
discovered me. And next morning before I started off on the pursuit
again he loaded me with supplies.
To record the incidents of what proved a long, weary and fruitless chase
would fill a volume. For nine days more we followed the trail, never far
behind the rogue but never catching sight of him. He led us first into
the dense and tropical vegetation of the jungles around Rajabhatkawa,
where we forced our way through luxuriant tree-ferns, their undersides
studded thick with long curved thorns. On the second day we were passing
through tall elephant grass with waving plumes that nodded high over our
heads. We followed a path made by the passage of wild animals. The two
orderlies were on foot in front, picking up the trail, when we heard,
fifty yards ahead, the rogue crashing suddenly through the jungle. The
startled men turned and ran towards our elephants which, alarmed at the
sight of their terror, turned sharp and stampeded. Having been leading,
I now found myself looking down the muzzle of Sohanpal Singh's rifle as
he swung round ready to fire over Dundora's tail if the rogue chased us.
Luckily in the tall grass there was no danger of our being swept off the
pads; and the _mahouts_ soon stopped their animals and brought them
back. But when we got clear of the cover we found that it lined the bank
of a broad, empty river-bed across which our prey had escaped while our
elephants had been retreating. In the sand we found his unmistakable
track with the useless foreleg dragging helplessly over the ground. Had
our animals not bolted at the critical moment we would have reached the
river-bank in time to have a clear shot at him as he crossed in the
open. For the remainder of the chase we never got so close to him again.
Wherever night found us we bivouacked; unless a lucky chance brought us
near a tea garden, where I sought the planters' unfailing hospitality.
Men whose names I did not know welcomed me with the cordiality of old
friends and made me and my train comfortable for the night. I found that
I was known to most by reputation as the lunatic who had walked up to a
notorious rogue elephant with only a camera in his hand. All gladly
aided me in my venture; for I learned that the brute I was pursuing was
infamous throughout the district. Everyone had a tale to tell of him,
and never to his credit. On one garden he had entered the coolies'
village and, finding a native baby in his path, had picked it up in his
trunk and hurled it on to the roof of a hut. Alarmed by its cries the
parents had rushed out only to be met and trampled to death by the
murderous brute. On another garden the manager and a friend were
strolling in the dusk along a road within two hundred yards of the
bungalow. Smoking and chatting, they were all unconscious of the fact
that this rogue was stalking silently towards them intent on murder.
Suddenly the planter's terrier saw it and rushed barking at it.
Frightened as all elephants are of dogs, the animal turned off the road
and plunged in among the tea bushes; and it was only then that his
intended victims perceived him. My bullets were by no means the first
that he had received. He had been shot at and wounded over and over
again. One planter advised me, if I eventually succeeded in killing him,
to exploit his body as a lead mine.
Hope springs eternal in the sportsman's breast; and day after day I set
out at dawn cheered by the expectation that surely this day must bring
the chase to a successful conclusion. As we started at five or six
o'clock each morning and kept on the move until 6 p.m., we must have
covered altogether well over two hundred miles in the pursuit, as we
averaged a mile and a half in the hour. The rogue seemed to know that we
were on his track and changed his direction frequently. Strange were the
sights I saw and varied the wild jungles we traversed. Sometimes for
hours we pushed our way through brakes of tough cane. Sometimes we
passed for miles under huge trees in grassy land. Once in the forest
Khartoum stopped short so suddenly that I was nearly thrown off her pad.
As she backed away the _mahout_ pointed to a great snake twelve or
thirteen feet long wriggling away from almost under her forelegs. The
glimpses I got of it showed it to be the terrible king-cobra.
For the first four days of the chase we had found no droppings left by
the fleeing elephant. Then we came on some, small, hard and black with
coagulated blood. And only on the sixth day did we discover traces of
where he had begun to eat again. And one morning we passed a patch of
cultivation in the jungle and a peasant who told us that at daybreak he
had found a lame single-tusker elephant feeding on his crops. When the
sun rose it moved on again without discovering the man.
At last on the twelfth day since our first encounter I was obliged to
give up the chase. We found his trail leading across the wide and rapid
river, the Torsa, which pours down its flood from the mountains of
Bhutan. My men and animals were worn out by the unceasing pursuit.
Although the former suffered less than I did from the want of food, for
every village supplied their wants and I had to depend on the kind
charity of the planters, yet the irregular meals and the strain told on
them. They were not spurred on by the same eagerness to kill the rogue
as I. But greatly disappointed as I was at being unable to compass his
death, yet I thought that at least we had rid our jungles of his
dangerous presence; so, sadly and reluctantly, I yielded to my
followers' entreaties and turned our elephants' heads towards home.
We really had deserved better fortune. We had done our best to kill the
rogue, and nothing but the most astonishing fortune had saved him. One
bullet out of the many half an inch to one side or the other would have
given us the victory. And we had shot calmly and steadily. I was sure
that not one of our bullets had missed him, which of course was not
astonishing, as they had all been fired at the closest range. Yet I have
seen a man miss a fourteen-hand _sambhur_ at ten yards. But with this
elephant I knew that every shot had struck. I have never heard of so
long and continuous a pursuit of one animal as ours had been. But the
fact remained that with ten solid bullets from my heavy rifle, and seven
from the Lee-Enfields, the brute still lived to mock us, and to do
worse. For three weeks from the day when we ended the chase on the banks
of the Torsa the rogue was back again in our jungles and attacked the
tame elephants of an Indian Civil Servant near Buxa Road Station.
Needless to say, I was off again after him the moment I heard of this
fresh outrage. But all in vain. And a few months afterwards while I was
lying dangerously ill in Buxa the brute surprised a Bhuttia and his wife
in the jungle three miles from Santrabari and trampled the woman to
death; and, for aught I know, still carrying our bullets he yet lives
to terrorise the forest. May we meet again! And yet, when I think how
narrowly I escaped an agonising death under his terrible feet, I should
perhaps be thankful that the chances of our meeting are small; for
hundreds of miles of India now divide us.
It is fortunate that in sudden danger one has not time to think; for if,
in the nerve-trying moment when a man stands facing the onrush of a
charging elephant, a vivid imagination painted to his eyes the awful
fate in store for him should the bullet fail to strike home, the rifle
would drop from his shaking fingers. But though in anticipation the
heart beats quickly and the breath comes fast, yet when the instant of
danger comes the nerves turn to steel and the hand never falters. A
tiger is not always a formidable foe; and one generally meets him on
advantageous terms. But the wild elephant's charge must be met on ground
of his own choosing; and the odds are perhaps in his favour. Yet the man
who has once stopped him in his headlong rush will long to do battle
with his kind again; and the recollections of the peril escaped acts
only as a spur.
FOOTNOTES:
[5] Footprints.