A ROGUE ELEPHANT
The four transport elephants attached to the garrison of Ranga Duar for the
purpose of bringing supplies for the men from the far distant railway were
stabled in a _peelkhana_ at the foot of the hills and a couple of thousand
feet below the Fort. This building, a high-walled shed with thatched roof
and brick standings for the animals, was erected beside the narrow road
that zig-zagged down from the mountains into the forest and eventually
joined a broader one leading to the narrow-gauge railway that pierced the
jungle many miles away.
One morning, about three weeks after Dermot's first introduction to
Badshah, the Major tramped down the rough track to the _peelkhana_,
carrying a rifle and cartridge belt and a haversack containing his food for
the day. Nearing the stables he blew a whistle, and a shrill trumpeting
answered him from the building, as Badshah recognised his signal. Ramnath,
hurriedly entering the impatient elephant's stall, loosed him from the iron
shackles that held his legs. Then the huge beast walked with stately tread
out of the building and went straight to where Dermot awaited him. For
during these weeks the intimacy between man and animal had progressed
rapidly. Elephants, though of an affectionate disposition, are not
demonstrative as a rule. But Badshah always showed unmistakable signs of
fondness for the white man, whom he seemed to regard as his friend and
protector.
Dermot was in the habit of taking him out into the jungle every day, where
he went ostensibly to shoot. After the first few occasions he displaced
Ramnath from the guiding seat on Badshah's neck and acted as _mahout_
himself. But, instead of using the _ankus_--the heavy iron implement shaped
like a boat-hook head which natives use to emphasise their orders to their
charges--the Major simply touched the huge head with his open hand. And his
method proved equally, if not more, effective. He was soon able to dispense
altogether with Ramnath on his expeditions, which was his object. For he
did not want any witness to his secret explorations of the forest and the
hills.
An elephant, when used as a beast of burden or for shooting from in thick
jungle, carries on its back only a "pad"--a heavy, straw-stuffed mattress
reaching from neck to tail and fastened on by a rope surcingle passing
round the body. On this pad, if passengers are to be carried, a wooden seat
with footboards hanging by cords from it and called a _charjama_ is placed.
Only for sport in open country or high grass jungle is the cage-like howdah
employed.
Dermot replaced Badshah's heavy pad by a small, light one, especially made,
or else took him out absolutely bare. No shackles were needed to secure the
elephant when his white rider dismounted from his neck, for he followed
Dermot like a dog, came to his whistle, or stood without moving from the
spot where he had been ordered to remain. The most perfect understanding
existed between the two; and the superstitious Hindus regarded with awe the
extraordinary subjection of their sacred and revered _Gunesh_ to the white
man.
Now, after a greeting and a palatable gift to Badshah, Dermot seized the
huge ears, placed his foot on the trunk which was curled to receive it and
was swung up on to the neck by the well-trained animal. Then, answering the
_salaams_ of the _mahouts_ and coolies, who invariably gathered to witness
and wonder at his daily meeting with Badshah, he touched the elephant under
the ears with his toe and was borne away into the jungle.
His object this day was not to explore but to shoot a deer to replenish the
mess larder. Fresh meat was otherwise unprocurable in Ranga Duar; and an
unvaried diet of tinned food was apt to become wearisome, especially as it
was not helped out by bread and fresh vegetables. These were luxuries
unknown to the British officers in this, as in many other, outposts.
The sea of vegetation closed around Badshah and submerged him, as he turned
off a footpath and plunged into the dense undergrowth. The trees were
mostly straight-stemmed giants of teak, branchless for some distance from
the ground. Each strove to thrust its head above the others through the
leafy canopy overhead, fighting for its share of the life-giving sunlight.
In the green gloom below tangled masses of bushes, covered with large,
bell-shaped flowers and tall grasses in which lurked countless thorny
plants obstructed the view between the tree-trunks. Above and below was a
bewildering confusion of creepers forming an intricate network, swinging
from the upper branches and twisting around the boles, biting deep into the
bark, strangling the life out of the stoutest trees or holding up the
withered, lifeless trunks of others long dead. They filled the space
between the tree-tops and the undergrowth, entangled, crisscrossed,
festooned, like a petrified mass of writhing snakes.
Through this maddening obstacle Badshah forced his way; while Dermot hacked
at the impeding _lianas_ with a sharp _kukri_, the heavy-bladed Gurkha
knife. The elephant moved on at an easy pace, shouldering aside the surging
waves of vegetation and bursting the clinging hold of the creepers. As he
went he swept huge bunches of grass up in his trunk, tore down leafy trails
or broke off small branches, and crammed them all impartially into his
mouth. At a touch of Dermot's foot or the guiding pressure of his hand he
swerved aside to avoid a tree or a particularly thorny bush.
There was little life to be seen. But occasionally, with a whirring sound
of rushing wings, a bright-plumaged jungle cock with his attendant bevy of
sober-clad hens swept up with startled squawks from under the huge feet and
flew to perch high up on neighbouring trees, chattering and clucking
indignantly in their fright. The pretty black and white Giant Squirrel ran
along the upper branches; or a troop of little brown monkeys leapt away
among the tree tops.
It was fascinating to be borne along without effort through the enchanted
wood in the luminous green gloom that filled it, lulled by the swaying
motion of the elephant's stride. The soothing silence of the woodland was
broken only by the crowing of a jungle cock. The thick, leafy screen
overhead excluded the glare of the tropic sunlight; and the heat was
tempered to a welcome coolness by the dense shade.
But, despite the soporific motion of his huge charger, Dermot's vigilant
eye searched the apparently lifeless jungle as he was borne along.
Presently it was caught by a warm patch of colour, the bright chestnut hide
of a deer; and he detected among the trees the graceful form of a _sambhur_
hind. Accustomed to seeing wild elephants the animal gazed without
apprehension at Badshah and failed to mark the man on his neck. But females
of the deer tribe are sacred to the sportsman; and the hunter passed on.
Half a mile farther on, in the deepest shadow of the undergrowth, he saw
something darker still. It was the dull black hide of a _sambhur_ stag, a
fine beast fourteen hands high, with sharp brow antlers and thick horns
branching into double points. Knowing the value of motionlessness as a
concealment the animal never moved; and only an eye trained to the jungle
would have detected it. Dermot noted it, but let it remain unscathed; for
he knew well the exceeding toughness of its flesh. What he sought was a
_kakur_, or barking deer, a much smaller but infinitely more palatable
beast.
Hours passed; and he and Badshah had wandered for miles without finding
what he wanted. He looked at his watch; for the sun was invisible. It was
nearly noon. In a space free from undergrowth he halted the elephant and,
patting the skull with his open hand, said:
"_Buth!_"
Badshah at the word sank slowly down until he rested on his breast and
belly with fore and hind legs stuck out stiffly along the ground. Dermot
slipped off his neck and stretched his cramped limbs; for sitting long
upright on an elephant without any support to the back is tiring. Then
he reclined under a tree with his loaded rifle beside him--for the
peaceful-seeming forest has its dangers. He made a frugal lunch off a
packet of sandwiches from his haversack.
Eating made him thirsty. He had forgotten to bring his water-bottle with
him; and he knew that there was no stream to be met with in the jungle for
many miles. But he was aware that the forest could supply his wants.
Rising, he drew his _kukri_ and looked around him. Among the tangle of
creepers festooned between the trees he detected the writhing coils of one
with withered, cork-like bark, four-sided and about two inches in diameter.
He walked over to it and, grasping it in his left hand, cut it through with
a blow of his heavy knife. Its interior consisted of a white, moist pulp.
With another blow he severed a piece a couple of feet long. Taking a metal
cup from his haversack he cut the length of creeper into small pieces and
held all their ends together over the little vessel. From them water began
to drip, the drops came faster and finally little streams from the pulpy
interior filled the cup to the brim with a cool, clear, and palatable
liquid. The _liana_ was the wonderful _pani-bêl_, or water-creeper.
Dermot drank until his thirst was quenched, then sat down with his back
against a tree and lit his pipe. He smoked contentedly and watched Badshah
grazing. The elephant plucked the long grass with a scythe-like sweep of
his trunk, tore down succulent creepers and broke off small branches from
the trees, chewing the wood and leaves with equal enjoyment. From time to
time he looked towards his master, but, receiving no signal to prepare to
move on, continued his meal.
At last the Major knocked out the ashes of his pipe, grinding them into the
earth with his heel lest a chance spark might start a forest fire, and
whistled to Badshah. The elephant came at once to him. From his haversack
Dermot took out a couple of bananas and held them up. The snake-like trunk
shot out and grasped them, then curving back placed them in the huge mouth.
Dermot stood up and, slinging his rifle over his shoulder, seized Badshah's
ears and was lifted again to his place astride the neck.
Once more the jungle closed about them, as the elephant moved off. The
rider, unslinging his rifle and laying it across his thighs, glanced from
side to side as they proceeded. The forest grew more open. The undergrowth
thinned; and occasionally they came to open glades carpeted with tall
bracken and looking almost like an English wood. But the great boughs of
the giant trees were matted thick with the glossy green leaves of orchid
plants, from which drooped long trails of delicate mauve and white flowers.
Just as they were emerging from dense undergrowth on to such a glade,
Dermot's eye was caught by something moving ahead of them. He checked
Badshah; and they remained concealed in in the thick vegetation. Then
through the trees came a trim little _kakur_ buck, stepping daintily in
advance of his doe which followed a few yards behind. As they moved their
long ears twitched incessantly, pointing now in this, now in that,
direction for any sound that might warn them of danger. But they did not
detect the hidden peril. Dermot noiselessly raised his rifle, aimed
hurriedly at the leader's shoulder and fired. The loud report sounded like
thunder through the silent forest. The stricken buck sprang convulsively
into the air, then fell in a heap; while his startled mate leaped over his
body and disappeared in bounding flight.
At the touch of his rider's foot the elephant moved forward into the open;
and without waiting for him to sink down Dermot slid to the ground. Old
hunter that he was, the Major could never repress a feeling of pity when he
looked on any harmless animal that he had shot; and he had long ago given
up killing such except for food. He propped his rifle against a tree and,
taking off his coat and rolling up his sleeves, drew his _kukri_ and
proceeded to disembowel and clean the _kakur_. While he was thus employed
Badshah strayed away into the jungle to graze, for elephants feed
incessantly.
When Dermot had finished his unpleasant task, it still remained to bind the
buck's legs together and tie him on to Badshah's back. For this he would
need cords; but he relied on the inexhaustible jungle to supply him with
these.
While searching for the udal tree whose inner bark would furnish him with
long, tough strips, he heard a crashing in the undergrowth not far away,
but, concluding that it was caused by Badshah, he did not trouble to look
round. Having got the cordage that he needed, he turned to go back to the
spot where he had left the _kakur_. As he fought his way impatiently
through the thorny tangled vegetation, he again heard the breaking of twigs
and the trampling down of the undergrowth. He glanced in the direction of
the sound, expecting to see Badshah appear.
To his dismay his eyes fell on a strange elephant, a large double-tusker.
It had caught sight of him and, contrary to the usual habit of its kind,
was advancing towards him instead of retreating. This showed that it was
the most terrible of all wild animals, a man-killing "rogue" elephant, than
which there is no more vicious or deadly brute on the earth.
Dermot instantly recognised his danger. It was very great. His rifle was
some distance away, and before he could reach it the tusker would probably
overtake him. He stopped and stood still, hoping that the rogue had not
caught sight of him. But he saw at once that there was no doubt of this.
The brute had its murderous little eyes fixed on him and was quickening its
pace. The undergrowth that almost held the man a prisoner was no obstacle
to this powerful beast.
Dermot realised that it meant to attack him. His heart nearly stopped, for
he knew the terrible death that awaited him. He had seen the crushed
bodies, battered to pulp and with the limbs torn away, of men killed by
rogue elephants. The only hope of escape, a faint one, lay in flight.
Madly he strove to tear himself free from the clutching thorns and the grip
of the entangling creepers that held him. He flung all his weight into his
efforts to fight his way out clear of the malignant vegetation, that seemed
a cruel, living thing striving to drag him to his death. The elephant saw
his desperate struggles. It trumpeted shrilly and, with head held high,
trunk curled up, and the lust of murder in its heart, it charged.
The tangled network of interlaced undergrowth parted like gossamer before
it. Small trees went down and the tallest bushes were trampled flat; the
stoutest creepers broke like pack-thread before its weight.
Dermot tore himself free from the clutch of the last clinging, curving
thorns that rent his garments and cut deep into his flesh. Gaining
comparatively open ground he ran for his life. But he had lost all sense of
direction and could not remember where his rifle stood. Escape seemed
hopeless. He knew only too well that in the jungle a pursuing elephant will
always overtake a fleeing man. The trees offered no refuge, for the lowest
branches were high above his reach and the trunks too thick and straight to
climb. He fled, knowing that each moment might be his last. A false step, a
trip over a root or a creeper and he was lost. He would be gored, battered
to death, stamped out of existence, torn limb from limb by the vicious
brute.
The rogue was almost upon him. He swerved suddenly and with failing breath
and fiercely beating heart ran madly on. But the respite was momentary. His
head was dizzy, his legs heavy as lead, his strength almost gone. He could
hear the terrible pursuer only a few yards behind him.
Already the great beast's uncurled trunk was stretched out to seize its
prey. Dermot's last moment had come when, with a fierce, shrill scream, a
huge body burst out of the jungle and hurled itself at his assailant.
Badshah had come to the rescue of his man.
Before the rogue could swing round to meet him the gallant animal had
charged furiously into it, driving his single tusk with all his immense
weight behind it into the strange elephant's side. The shock staggered the
murderous brute and almost knocked it to the ground. Only the fact of its
having turned slightly at Badshah's cry, so that his tusk inflicted a
somewhat slanting blow, had saved it from a mortal wound. Before it could
recover its footing Badshah gored it again.
Dermot, plucked at the last moment from the most terrible of deaths,
staggered panting to a tree and tried to stand, supporting himself against
the trunk. But the strain had been too great. He turned faint and sank
exhausted to the earth, almost unconscious. But the remembrance of
Badshah's peril from a better-armed antagonist--for the possession of two
tusks gave the rogue a great advantage--nerved him. Holding on to the tree
he dragged himself up and looked around for his rifle. He could not see it,
and he dared not cross the arena in which the two huge combatants were
fighting.
As Badshah drew back to gain impetus for another charge, the rogue regained
its feet and prepared to hurl itself on the unexpected assailant. Dermot
was in despair at being unable to aid his saviour, who he feared must
succumb to the superior weapons of his opponent. He gazed fascinated at the
titanic combat.
The rogue trumpeted a shrill challenge. Then it curled its trunk between
its tusks out of harm's way and with ears cocked forward and tail erect
rushed to the assault. But suddenly it propped on stiffened forelegs and
stopped dead. It stared at Badshah, who was about to charge again, and
backed slowly, seemingly panic-stricken. Then as the tame elephant moved
forward to the attack the rogue screamed with terror, swung about, and with
ears and tail dropped, bolted into the undergrowth.
With a trumpet of triumph Badshah pursued. Dermot, left alone, could
hardly credit the passing of the danger. The whole episode seemed a
hideous nightmare from which he had just awaked. He could scarcely
believe that it had actually taken place, although the trampled
vegetation and the crashing sounds of the great animals' progress
through the undergrowth were evidence of its reality. The need for
action had not passed. The rogue might return, for a fight between wild
bull-elephants often lasts a whole day and consists of short and
desperate encounters, retreats, pursuits, and fresh battles. So he
hurriedly searched for his rifle, which he eventually found some
distance away. He opened the breach and replaced the soft-nosed bullets
with solid ones, more suitable for such big game. Then, once more
feeling a strong man armed, he waited expectantly. The sounds of the
chase had died away. But after a while he heard a heavy body forcing a
passage through the undergrowth and held his rifle ready. Then through
the tangle of bushes and creepers Badshah's head appeared. The elephant
came straight to him and touched him all over with outstretched trunk,
just as mother-elephants do their calves, as if to assure himself of his
man's safety.
Dermot could have kissed the soft, snake-like proboscis, and he patted the
animal affectionately and murmured his thanks to him. Badshah seemed to
understand him and wrapped his trunk around his friend's shoulders. Then,
apparently satisfied, he moved away and began to graze calmly, as if
nothing out of the common had taken place.
Dermot pulled himself together. Near the foot of the tree at which he had
sunk down he found the cord-like strips of bark which he had cut. Picking
them up he went to the carcase of the buck and tied its legs together. A
whistle brought the elephant to him, and, hoisting the deer on to the pad,
he fastened it to the surcingle. Then, grasping the elephant's ears, he was
lifted to his place on the neck.
Turning Badshah's head towards home he started off; but, as he went, he
looked back at the trampled glade and thanked Heaven that his body was not
lying there, crushed and lifeless.