A STRANGE HOME-COMING
Dermot dragged the girl down to the ground beside him as a shot rang out.
"I suppose they will kill us, Major Dermot," she said calmly. "But couldn't
you manage to get away in the darkness? You know the jungle so well. Please
don't hesitate to leave me, for I should only hamper you. Won't you go?"
Emotion choked the soldier for a moment. He gripped her arm and was about
to speak when suddenly the forest on every side of them resounded to a
pandemonium of noise: a chorus of wild shrieks, shots, the crashing of
trampled undergrowth, the death-yells of men amid the savage screams and
fierce trumpetings of a herd of elephants.
"Oh, what's that? What terrible thing is happening?" cried the girl.
Dermot seized her and dragged her close against the trunk of the tree. In
the gloom they saw men flying madly past them pursued by elephants. One
wretch not ten yards from them was overtaken by a great tusker, which
struck him to the ground, trampled on him, kicked and knelt upon his
lifeless body until it was crushed to a pulp, then placing one forefoot on
the man's chest, wound his trunk round the legs and seized them in his
mouth, tore them from the body, and threw them twenty yards away. All
around similar tragedies were being enacted; for the herd of wild elephants
had charged in among the attackers.
Dermot gathered the terrified girl in his arms and held her face against
his breast, so that she should be spared the horror of the sights about
them; but he could not shut out the terrible sounds, the agonised shrieks,
the despairing yells of the wretches who were meeting with an awful fate.
He remained motionless against the tree, hoping to escape the notice of the
fierce animals, whom he could see plunging through the jungle in pursuit of
their prey, for they were hunting the men down. Suddenly one elephant came
straight towards them with trunk uplifted. Dermot put the girl behind him
and raised his rifle; but with a low murmur from its throat the animal
lowered its trunk, and he recognised it.
"Thank God! we are saved," he said. "It's Badshah. He has brought his herd
to our rescue."
The girl clung to him convulsively and scarcely heard him; for the tumult
in the jungle still continued, though the terrible pursuit seemed to be
passing farther away. The giant avengers were still crashing through the
jungle after their prey; and an occasional heartrending shriek told of
another luckless wretch who had met his doom.
Dermot gently disengaged the clinging hands and repeated his words. The
girl, still shuddering, made an effort and rose to her knees.
Dermot went forward and laid his hand on the elephant's trunk.
"Thank you, Badshah," he said. "I am in your debt again."
The tip of the trunk touched his face in a gentle caress. Then he stepped
back and said: "Now we'll go at once, Miss Daleham. We won't stop this time
until we reach your bungalow."
The girl had already recovered her courage and stood beside him.
"But you are wounded. There's blood on your face and on your neck. Are you
badly hurt?"
Dermot laughed reassuringly.
"To tell you the truth I had forgotten all about it. They are only
scratches. The skin is cut, that's all. Come, we mustn't delay any longer."
At a word from him Badshah knelt. He hurriedly threw the pad on the
elephant's back and made him rise so that the surcingle rope could be
fixed. Then he brought the animal to his knees again and lifted Noreen on
to the pad. But before he took his own seat he searched the undergrowth
around the glade and found many corpses of men almost unrecognisable as
human bodies, so crushed and battered were they. From the number that he
came upon it was evident that most of their assailants had been slain. But
all the elephants except his had disappeared; and the sounds of the
massacre were dying away.
Slinging his rifle he climbed on to the pad; and Badshah rose and went
swiftly along a track that seemed to Dermot to lead towards Malpura. He did
not attempt to guide the elephant, but placed himself so that his body
would shield the girl from the danger of being struck by overhanging
boughs. He held her firmly as they were borne through the darkness that now
filled the forest; for the swift-coming Indian night had fallen.
"Keep well down, Miss Daleham," he said. "You must be on your guard against
being swept off the pad by the low branches."
"Oh, Major Dermot," cried the girl with a shudder, "have all these terrible
things really happened in the last few hours or has it all been a hideous
nightmare?"
"Please try not to think of them," he answered. "You are safe now."
"Yes; but you? You have to face these dangers again, since you are so much
in the jungle. Oh, my forest that I thought a fairyland! That such terrible
things can happen in it!"
"I can assure you that they are very unusual," he replied with a cheery
laugh. "You have been very fortunate; for you have crammed more excitement
and adventure into one day than I have seen previously in all my time in
the jungle."
"It all seems so incredible," she said. "Did you really mean that Badshah
brought his herd to our rescue? But I know he did. I heard him call them.
When he ran off I thought that he was frightened and had abandoned us. But
I did him a great injustice."
Her companion was silent for a moment. Then he said:
"Look here, Miss Daleham, we had better not tell that tale of Badshah quite
in that way. It would seem impossible, and no European would credit it.
Natives would, of course, for as it is they seem to look upon him as a god
already."
"Yes; but you think as I do, don't you?" she exclaimed in surprise. "Surely
you believe that he did bring the other elephants to save us."
"Yes, I do. I know that he did, for I--well, between ourselves I have seen
him do even more wonderful things. But others wouldn't believe us, and I
don't want to emphasise the marvellous part of the story. I'd rather people
thought that the _dacoits_, or whoever those men were who attacked us,
accidentally fell foul of a herd of wild elephants."
"Perhaps you are right. But _we_ know. It will be just our own secret and
Badshah's," she said dreamily.
Then she relapsed into silence. In spite of the terrible experiences
through which she had just passed she felt happy at the pressure of
Dermot's arm about her and the sensation of being utterly alone with him in
a world of their own, as they were borne on through the darkness. Fatigue
made her drowsy, and the swaying motion of the elephant's pace lulled her
to sleep.
She woke suddenly and for an instant wondered where she was. Then
remembrance came and she felt the warm blood mantle her face as she
realised that she was nestling in Dermot's arms. But, drowsy and content,
she did not move. Looking up she saw the stars overhead. They were out of
the forest.
"I must have been asleep," she said. "Where are we?"
"At Malpura. There are the lights of your bungalow," replied Dermot. He
said it almost with regret, for he had found the long miles through the
forest almost short, while the girl nestled confidingly, though
unconsciously, in his arms and he held her against his heart.
As the elephant neared the house Dermot gave a loud shout.
Instantly the verandah filled with men who rushed out of the lighted rooms
and tried to pierce the darkness. A little distance from the bungalow a
large number of coolies, seated on the ground, rose up and pressed forward
to the road. From behind the house several white-clad servants ran out.
Dermot shouted again and called out Daleham's name.
There was a frantic rush down the verandah steps.
"Hurrah! it's the Major," cried a planter.
"And--and--yes, Miss Daleham's with him. Hooray!" yelled another.
"Good old Dermot!" came in Payne's voice.
Through the throng of shouting, excited men the girl's brother broke.
"Noreen! Noreen! My God, are you there? Are you safe?" he cried
frantically.
Almost before Badshah sank to the ground, the girl, with a little sob,
sprang into her brother's arms and clung to him, while Dermot was dragged
off the pad by the eager hands of a dozen men who thumped him on the back,
pulled him from one to another, and nearly shook his arm off. The servants
had brought out lamps to light up the scene.
From the verandah steps Chunerbutty looked jealously on. He had been
relieved at knowing that the girl had returned, but in his heart he cursed
the man who had saved her. He was roughly thrust aside by Parry, who dashed
up the steps, ran into the house, and emerged a minute later holding a
large tumbler in his hand.
"Where is he, where is he? Look you, I know what he wants. Here's what will
do you good, Major," he shouted.
Dermot laughed and, taking the tumbler, drank its contents gratefully,
though their strength made him cough, for the bibulous Celt had mixed it to
his own taste.
"Major, Major, how can we thank you?" said Fred Daleham, coming to him with
his sister clinging to his arm.
But she had to release him and shake hands over and over again with all the
planters and receive their congratulations and expressions of delight at
seeing her safe and sound. Meanwhile her brother was endeavouring in the
hubbub to thank her rescuer. But Dermot refused to listen.
"Oh, there's nothing to make a fuss about I assure you, Daleham," he said.
"It was just that I had the luck to be the first to follow the raiders. Any
one else would have done the same."
"Oh, nonsense, old man," broke in Payne, clapping him on the back. "Of
course we'd all have liked to do it, but none of us could have tracked the
scoundrels like you could. How did you do it?"
"Yes; tell us what happened, Major."
"How did you find her, Dermot?"
"What occurred, Miss Daleham?"
"Did they put up a fight, sir?"
The eager mob of men poured a torrent of questions on the girl and her
rescuer.
"Easy on, you fellows," said Dermot, laughing. "Give us time. We can't
answer you all at once."
"Yes, give them a chance, boys. Don't crowd," cried one planter.
"Here! We can't see them. Let's have some light," shouted another.
"Where are those servants? Bring out all the lamps!"
"Lamps be hanged! Let's have a decent blaze. We'll have a bonfire."
Several of the younger planters ran to the stable and outhouses and brought
piles of straw, old boxes, anything that would burn. Others despatched
coolies to the factory near by to fetch wood, broken chests, and other
fuel. Several bonfires were made and the flames lit up the scene with a
blaze of light.
"Why, you're wounded, Dermot!" exclaimed Payne.
"Oh, no. Just a scratch."
"Yes, he is wounded, but he pretends it's nothing," said Noreen. "Do see if
it's anything serious, Mr. Payne."
"I assure you it's nothing," protested the soldier, resisting eager and
well-meant attempts to drag him into the house and tend his hurts by force.
But attention was diverted when a planter cried:
"Good Heavens! what's this? The elephant's tusk is covered with blood."
"Tusk! Why, he's blood to the eyes," exclaimed another.
For the leaping flames revealed the fact that Badshah's tusk, trunk, and
legs were covered with freshly-dried blood.
"Good Heavens! he's been wading in it."
"What's that on his tusk? Why, it's fragments of flesh. Oh, the deuce!"
There were exclamations of surprise and horror from the white men. But the
mass of coolies, who had been pressing forward to stare, drew back into the
darkness and muttered to each other.
"The god! The god! Who can withstand the god?" they whispered.
"_Arhé, bhai_! (Aye, brother!) But which is the god? The elephant or his
rider? Tell me that!" exclaimed a grey-haired coolie.
Among the Europeans the questions showered on Dermot redoubled.
"Look here, you fellows. I can't answer you all at once," he expostulated.
"It's a long story. But please remember that Miss Daleham has had a tiring
day and must be worn out."
"Oh, no, I'm not," exclaimed the girl. "Not now. I was fatigued, but I'm
too excited to rest yet."
"Come into the bungalow everyone and we'll have the whole story there,"
said her brother. "The servants will get supper ready for us. We must
celebrate tonight."
"Indeed, yes. Look you, it shall be very wet tonight in Malpura,
whateffer," cried Parry, who was already half drunk. "Here, boy! Boy! Where
is that damned black beastie of mine? Boy!"
His _khitmagar_ disengaged himself from the group of servants and
approached apprehensively, keeping out of reach of his master's fist.
"Go to the house," said Parry to him in Bengali. "Bring liquor here. All
the liquor I have. Hurry, you dog!"
He aimed a blow at him, which the _khitmagar_ dodged with the ease of long
practice and ran to execute his master's bidding.
Daleham gave directions to his butler and cook to prepare supper, and led
the way into the house with his arm round his sister, who, woman-like,
escaped to change her dress and make herself presentable, as she put it.
She had already forgotten the fatigues of the day in the hearty welcome and
the joy of her safe home-coming.
But before Dermot entered the bungalow he had water brought and washed from
Badshah's head and legs the evidences of the terrible vengeance that he had
taken upon their assailants. And from the verandah the planters looked at
animal and master and commented in low tones on the strange tales told of
both, for the reputation of mysterious power that they enjoyed with natives
had reached every white man of the district.
The crowd of coolies drifted away to their village on the tea-garden, and
there throughout the hot night hours the groups sat on the ground outside
the thatched bamboo huts and talked of the animal and the man.
"It is not well to cross this sahib who is not as other sahibs," said a
coolie, shaking his head solemnly.
"Sahib, say you? Is he only a sahib?" asked an old man. "Is he truly of the
_gora logue_ (white folk)?"
"Why, what else is he? Is not his skin white?" said a youth,
presumptuously thrusting himself into the conclave of the elders.
"Peace! Since when was it meet for children to prattle in the presence of
their grandsires?" demanded a grey-haired coolie contemptuously. "Know,
boy, that Shri Krishn's skin was of the same colour when he moved among us
on earth."
Krishna, the Second Person of the Hindu Trinity, the best-loved god of all
their mythological heaven, is represented in the cheap coloured oleographs
sold in the bazaars in India as being of fair complexion.
"Is he Krishna himself?" asked a female coolie eagerly, the glass bangles
on her arm rattling as she raised her hand to draw her _sari_ over her face
when she thus addressed men. "Is he Krishna, think you? He is handsome
enough to be the Holy One."
"Who knows, daughter? It may be. Shri Krishn has many incarnations," said
the old man solemnly.
"Nay, I do not think that he is Krishna," remarked an elderly coolie. "It
may be that he is another of the Holy Ones."
"Perhaps he is _Gunesh_," ventured a younger man.
"No; he bestrides _Gunesh_. I think he must be Krishna," chimed in another.
"What lesser god would dare to use Gunesh as his steed?"
"He is _Gunesh_ himself," asserted a grey-beard. "Does he not range the
jungle and the mountains at the head of all the elephants of the Terai? Can
he not call them to his aid as Hanuman did the monkeys?"
"He is certainly a Holy One or else a very powerful demon," declared the
old man. "It is an evil and a dangerous thing to molest those whom he
protects. The Bhuttias, ignorant pagans that they are, carried off the
missie _baba_ he favours. What, think ye, has been their fate? With your
own eyes ye have all seen the blood and the flesh of men upon the tusk and
legs of his sacred elephant."
And so through the night the shuttle of superstitious talk went backward
and forward and wove a still more marvellous garment of fancy to drape the
reputation of elephant and man. The godship that the common belief had long
endowed Badshah with was being transferred to his master; and a mere Indian
Army Major was transformed into a mysterious Hindu deity.
Meanwhile in the well-lighted bungalow in which all the sahibs were
gathered together the servants were hurriedly preparing a supper such as
lonely Malpura had never known. And Noreen's pretty drawing-room was
crowded with men in riding costume or in uniform--for most of the planters
belonged to a Volunteer Light Horse Corps, and some of them, expecting a
fight, had put on khaki when they got Daleham's summons. Their rifles,
revolvers, and cartridge belts were piled on the verandah. Chunerbutty,
feeling that his presence among them would not be welcomed by the white men
that night, had gone off to his own bungalow in jealous rage. And nobody
missed him. Dermot, despite his protests, had been dragged off to have his
hurts attended to, and it was then seen that he had been touched by three
bullets.
When all were assembled in the room the planters demanded the tale of
Noreen's adventures; and the girl, looking dainty and fresh in a white
muslin dress, unlike the heroine of her recent tragic experience, smilingly
complied and told the story up to the point of Dermot's unexpected and
dramatic intervention.
"Now you must go on, Major," she said, turning to him.
"Yes, yes, Dermot. Carry on the tale," was the universal cry.
Everyone turned an expectant face towards where the soldier sat, looking
unusually embarrassed.
"Oh, there's nothing much to tell," he said. "The raiders--they were
Bhuttias--had left a trail easy enough to see, though I confess that I
would have lost it once but for my elephant. When I came up to them, as
Miss Daleham has just told you, they all ran away except two."
"What did these two do?" asked Granger, his host of the previous night.
"Not much. They tried to stand their ground, but didn't really give much
trouble. So I took Miss Daleham up on my elephant and we started back. But
like a fool I stopped on the way to have grub, and somebody began shooting
at us from the jungle, until wild elephants turned up and cleared them off.
Then we came on here. That's all."
These was a moment's silence. Then Granger, in disgusted tones, exclaimed:
"Well, Major, of all the poor story-tellers I've ever heard, you're the
very worst. One would think you'd only been for a stroll in a quiet English
lane. 'Then we came on here. That's all.'"
"Oh, yes, you can't ask us to believe it was as tame as that, Major," said
another planter. "We expected to hear something a little more exciting."
"You go out after thirty or forty raiders--"
"No, only twenty-two all told," corrected Dermot.
"All right, only twenty-two, come back with three hits on you and your
elephant up to his eyes in blood and--and--well, hang it all, Major, let's
have some more details."
"Come, Miss Daleham," Payne broke in, "you tell us what happened. I know
Dermot, and we won't get any more out of him."
"Yes; let's hear all about it, Noreen," said her brother. "I'm sure it
wasn't as tame as the Major says."
"Tame?" echoed the girl, smiling. "I've had enough excitement to last me
all my life, dear. I think that Major Dermot has put it rather mildly. I'm
sure even I could tell the story better."
She narrated their adventures, giving her rescuer, despite his protests,
full credit for his courage and resource, only omitting the details of
their picnic meal and slurring over their relief by the wild elephants. The
planters listened eagerly to her tale, breaking into applause at times.
When she had finished Parry laid a heavy hand on Dermot's shoulder and said
solemnly, though thickly:
"Look you, you are a bad liar, Major Dermot. Your story would not deceive a
child, whateffer. But I am proud of you. You should have been a Welshman."
The rest overwhelmed the soldier with compliments and congratulations, much
to his embarrassment, and when Noreen left the room to supervise the
arrangement of the supper-table they plied him with questions without
extracting much more information from him. But when a servant came to
announce that the meal was ready and the planters rose to troop to the
dining-room, Dermot reached the door first and held up his hand to stop
them.
"Gentlemen, one moment, please," he said. Then he looked out to satisfy
himself that the domestic was out of hearing and continued: "I'd be obliged
if during supper you'd make no allusion before the servants to what has
happened today. Afterwards I shall have something to say to you in
confidence that will explain this request of mine."
The others looked at him in surprise but readily agreed. Before they left
the room Daleham noticed the Hindu engineer's absence for the first time.
"By Jove, I'd forgotten Chunerbutty," he exclaimed. "I wonder where he is?
Perhaps he doesn't know we're going to have supper. I'd better send the boy
to tell him."
"Indeed no, he is fery well where he is," hiccoughed Parry, who, seated by
a table on which drinks had been placed, had not been idle. "This is not a
night for black men, look you."
"Yes, Daleham, Parry's right," said Granger. "Let us keep to our own colour
tonight. Things might be said that wouldn't be pleasant for an Indian to
hear."
"Forgive my putting a word in, Daleham," added Dermot. "But I have a very
particular reason, which I'll explain afterwards, for asking you to leave
Chunerbutty out."
"Yes, we don't want a damned Bengali among us tonight, Fred," said a young
planter bluntly.
"Oh, very well; if you fellows would rather I didn't ask him I won't,"
replied their host. "But I'm afraid his feelings will be hurt at being left
out when we're celebrating my sister's safe return. He's such an old
friend."
"Oh, hang his feelings! Think of ours," cried another of the party.
"All right. Have it your own way. Let's go in to supper," said the host.
The hastily improvised meal was a merry feast, and the loud voices and the
roars of laughter rang out into the silent night and reached the ears of
Chunerbutty sitting in his bungalow eating his heart out in bitterness and
jealousy. Noreen, presiding at one end of the long table, was the queen of
the festival and certainly had never enjoyed any supper in London as much
as this impromptu meal. General favourite as she always was with every man
in the district, this night there was added universal gladness at her
escape and the feeling of satisfaction that the outrage on her had been so
promptly avenged. While the girl was pleased with the warmth and sincerity
of the congratulations showered upon her, she was secretly delighted to see
the high esteem in which all the other men held Dermot. He was seated
beside her and shared with her the good wishes of the company. His health
was drunk with all the honours after hers, and the planters did not spare
his blushes in their loudly-expressed praises of his achievements.
Cordiality and good humour prevailed, and, although the fun was fast and
furious, Parry was the only one who drank too much. Before he became
objectionable, for he was usually quarrelsome in his cups, he was
dexterously cajoled out of the room and safely shepherded to his bungalow.