clutching the great leaf-stalks of the palm, he climbed up among its
huge fronds. Here he was observed to lay hold of the spathe of the
flower, and bending it against the trunk, he commenced hammering away
with the stone, evidently with the intention of crushing the young
inflorescence. With a few blows he succeeded in doing this effectually.
He then drew the knife from his scarf, and, with an adroit cut,
detached the upper half of the flower-spike, which fell neglected to the
ground.
The bamboo vessel was next brought into service. This he fixed on the
spathe in such a manner that the incised end remained inside the hollow
of the cane. Both flower-spike and cane were then tied to one of the
leaf-stalks of the palm, so that the bamboo hung vertically bottom
downward; and this arrangement having been completed, the shikarree
flung down his hammering stone, replaced his knife under his belt, and
defended from the tree.
"Now, Sahibs," said he, as soon as he had reached terra firma, "you
waitee hour--you drinkee Indoo champagne."
In an hour or so his promise was fulfilled. The bamboo-joint was
released and brought down; and, sure enough, it was found to be full of
a cool clear liquor, of which all of them drank, esteeming it equal to
the best champagne. In fact, there is no more seducing and delicious
drink in all India than the sap of the palmyra palm; but it is also very
intoxicating, and is used too freely by the natives of the country where
this splendid tree flourishes.
Sugar can also be manufactured from this sap, simply by boiling it down.
When sugar is to be made, the tree is tapped in a similar manner; but
it is necessary to have a little lime in the vessel while collecting the
liquid, else it would ferment, and thus spoil it for sugar-boiling.
The reason why Ossaroo was so ready in tapping this particular _tree_,
was because the banyan which enveloped its trunk offered him an
excellent means of getting at it. Otherwise it would have been no easy
matter to have ascended the smooth slender shaft of a palmyra, rising
thirty or forty feet without knot or branch. Of course Ossaroo, as soon
as the bamboo was empty, once more climbed up and readjusted it to the
"tap," knowing that the sap would continue to run. This it does for
many days, only that each day it is necessary to cut a fresh slice from
the top of the flower-stalk, so as to keep the pores open and free.
Though the day had been hot, as soon as twilight came on the coolness of
the air rendered it necessary for our travellers to kindle a fire.
Ossaroo was not long in striking a light out of his tinder-box, and
having set fire to some dry leaves and moss, a blaze was soon produced.
Meanwhile Karl and Caspar had broken some branches from a dead tree that
lay near the spot, and carrying them up in armfuls, piled them upon the
burning leaves. A roaring fire was created in a few minutes, and around
this the party seated themselves, and commenced cooking their supper of
rice, with some pieces of dried meat, which they had brought along from
the last village.
Whilst engaged in this occupation, so agreeable to men who are hungry,
the botanist, whose eye was always on the alert for matters relating to
his favourite calling, remarked that the wood out of which their fire
had been made burned very much like oak. On taking up one of the
fagots, and cutting it with his knife, he was astonished to find that it
_was_ oak in reality--for there is no mistaking the grain and fibre of
this giant of the northern forests. What astonished him was the
existence of oak-trees in a country where the flora was altogether
tropical. He knew that he might expect to find representatives of the
oak family upon the sides of the Himalayas; but he was still only at
their foot, and in the region of the palms and bananas.
Karl knew not then, nor is it yet generally known, that many species of
oaks are tropical trees--in fact, many kinds may be found in the torrid
zone, growing even as low as the level of the sea. It is no less
strange, that although there are no oaks in tropical South America and
Africa, in Ceylon, or even in the peninsula of India itself, yet there
are numerous species in East Bengal, the Moluccas, and the Indian
islands--perhaps a greater number of species than grows in any other
part of the world!
The sight of this old acquaintance, as they termed the oak, had a
cheering effect upon the Bavarian boys; and after supper they sat
conversing upon the subject, determined as soon as it was day to look
out for some of the living trees as further confirmation of the strange
fact they had observed.
They were about thinking of wrapping themselves up in their blankets,
and retiring to rest, when an incident occurred that kept them awake for
another hour or two.
CHAPTER EIGHT.
THE SAMBUR STAG.
"See!" cried Caspar, who was more sharp-eyed than Karl.
"Look! look yonder! two lights, I declare!"
"Indeed, yes," replied Karl; "I see them--bright round lights! What can
they be?"
"An animal!" answered Caspar; "I can affirm that much. Some wild beast,
I fancy!"
They regarded the strange object with some uneasiness, for they knew
they were in the haunts of dangerous wild beasts.
"Maybe a tiger?" suggested Karl.
"Or a panther?" added his brother.
"I hope neither one nor the other," said Karl.
He was interrupted by Ossaroo, who had now observed the shining spots,
and who with a single word reassured the whole party.
"Samboo," said the shikarree.
Both knew that Ossaroo meant by "Samboo," the great deer or stag known
to Europeans as the sambur deer. It was the eyes of a deer, then,
glancing back the blaze of the oak fagots, that had alarmed them.
Their fears were suddenly changed to feelings of joy. They had a double
motive for being pleased at the sight. To shoot and bring down the deer
would be such excellent sport; besides, a fresh venison steak was a
delicacy which both could appreciate.
All of them, Ossaroo included, were too well accustomed to the habits of
hunters to act rashly. Any sudden movement among them might frighten
the game; and if it bounded off into the forest, or even turned its
head, it could no longer be seen in the pitchy darkness that surrounded
them. The shining eyes were all of it that were visible; and if the
creature had but chosen to _shut its eyes_ it might have stood there
till the morning light, without the least chance of being aimed at.
The animal, however, was too full of its own curiosity to adopt this
precaution. Instead, it remained where it had been first observed--its
great round orbs uncovered to their full extent and gleaming in the
light like a pair of "bull's-eyes."
Caspar in a whisper cautioned the others to remain silent and not to
move hand or finger. He, himself, gradually dropped his arm, until he
was able to grasp his large double-barrelled gun; and then, raising the
piece slowly to a level, took aim and fired. He very prudently did not
aim for the centre spot between the eyes. Had it been a bullet that was
in his gun he might have done so; but he knew that his piece was only
loaded with shot, and shot--even though they were "buckshot"--might not
penetrate the hard thick skull of a stag so strong as the sambur.
Instead of aiming for the eyes, therefore, he took sight at least a foot
below them, and in a direct line below. He had already conjectured,
from the even set of the eyes, that the deer was standing full front
towards the camp-fire, and his object was to send the shot into its
breast and throat.
The instant after he had delivered the first barrel, although the
shining eyes went out like the snuffing of candles, he fired the second,
so as to take advantage of a random shot.
He might have spared his load, for the first had done the business; and
the noise of kicking and sprawling among the dry leaves told that the
deer was knocked over, and, if not killed, at least badly wounded.
The dog Fritz had already leaped forth; and before the hunters could
procure a torch and reach the spot, the huge hound had seized the quarry
by the throat, and finished its struggles by strangling it to death.
They now dragged the carcass up to the light of the fire, and it was
just as much as the three of them could manage--for the sambur deer is
one of the largest animals of its kind, and the one that had fallen into
their hands was a fine old buck, with a pair of immense antlered horns,
of which no doubt in his lifetime he had been excessively proud.
The sambur deer is one of the most distinguished of the deer tribe.
Although not equal in size to the American wapiti (_Cervus Canadensis_),
he is much superior to the stag or red-deer of Europe. He is an active,
bold, and vicious animal; and, when bayed, a dangerous antagonist either
to dogs or hunters. His coat is close, the hair harsh, of a brown
colour, and slightly grizzled. Around the neck it is long and shaggy,
but particularly upon the under line of the throat, where it forms a
mane similar to that of the American wapiti. Another mane runs along
the back of the neck, adding to the fierce bold appearance of the
animal. A blackish band encircles the muzzle, and the usual "crupper
mark" around the tail is small and of a yellowish colour.
This is the description of the common sambur deer (_Cervus hippelaphus_)
best known to Europeans, and among Anglo-Indian sportsmen called "stag";
but it is to be observed that in different parts of Asia there are many
different species and varieties of the sambur. Zoologists usually class
them in a group called _Rusa_; and one or other of this group may be
found in every district of India from Ceylon to the Himalayas, and from
the Indus to the islands of the Indian Archipelago. They haunt in
timber, and usually by the banks of streams or other waters.
America has long been regarded as the favourite region of the deer
tribe, as Africa is the true home of the antelopes. This belief,
however, seems to be rather an incorrect one, and has arisen, perhaps,
from the fact that the American species are better known to Europeans.
It is true that the largest of the deer--the moose (_Cervus alces_)--is
an inhabitant of the American continent in common with Northern Europe
and Asia; but the number of species on that continent, both in its
northern and southern divisions, is very limited. When the zoology of
the East--I mean of all those countries and islands usually included
under the term East Indies--shall have been fully determined, we shall
no doubt find not only twice, but three times the number of species of
deer that belongs to America.
When we consider the vast number of educated Englishmen--both in the
array and in the civil service--who have idled away their lives in
India, we cannot help wondering at the little that is yet known in
relation to the _fauna_ of the Oriental world. Most of the Indian
officers have looked upon the wild animals of that country with the eye
of the sportsman rather than of the naturalist. With them a deer is a
deer, and a large ox-like animal a buffalo, or it may be a gayal, or a
jungle cow, or a gour, or a gyall; but which of all these is an ox, or
whether the four last-mentioned bovine quadrupeds are one and the same
species, remains to be determined. Were it not that these gentlemen
have had spirit enough occasionally to send us home a skin or a set of
horns, we might remain altogether ignorant of the existence of the
creature from which these trophies were taken. Verily science owes not
much to the Honourable East India Company. We are not blind to such
noble exceptions as Sykes, Hodgson, and others; and, if every province
of India had a resident of their character, a fauna might soon be
catalogued that would astonish even the spectacled _savant_.
CHAPTER NINE.
A NIGHT MARAUDER.
Ossaroo soon stripped the stag of its skin, cut the carcass into
quarters, and hung them on the limb of a tree. Although the party had
already supped, the excitement which had been occasioned by the incident
gave them a fresh appetite; and venison-steaks were broiled over the
oak-wood cinders, and eaten with a relish. These were washed down by
fresh draughts of the delicious palm-wine; and then the travellers,
having gathered some of the hanging moss, "_Usnea_," and strewed it near
the fire, rolled themselves in their blankets, and went to sleep.
About midnight there was a camp alarm. The sleepers were awakened by
the dog Fritz; who, by his angry baying and fierce demonstrations,
showed that some creature must have approached the fire that had no
business to be there. On rousing themselves they thought they heard
footsteps at a little distance, and a low growl as of some wild beast;
but it was not easy to distinguish any sound in particular, as at this
season the tropical forest is full of noises--so loud that it is often
difficult for persons to hear each other in conversation. What with the
chirruping of cicadas, the croaking of swamp-frogs, the tinkling of
tree-toads, and the hooting and screeching of owls and night-hawks, the
Indian forest is filled with a deafening din throughout the whole night.
Fritz ceased barking after a time; and they all went to sleep again, and
slept till morning.
As soon as day broke, they were up, and set about preparing breakfast.
Fresh fagots were piled upon the fire, and preparations made for a
savoury roast of venison rib. Ossaroo climbed up to his tap, while
Caspar went for the meat.
The quarters of the deer had been suspended upon a tree, at the distance
of about fifty paces from the camp-fire. The reason of their being hung
at such a distance was that a stream flowed there, and in order to clean
the meat, they had carried it down to the water's edge. A horizontal
branch, which was about the proper height from the ground, had tempted
Ossaroo, and he had chosen it for his "meat-rack."
An exclamation from Caspar now summoned the others to the spot.
"See!" cried he, as they came up, "one of the quarters gone!"
"Ha! there have been thieves!" said Karl. "That was what caused Fritz
to bark."
"Thieves!" ejaculated Caspar. "Not men thieves! They would have
carried off the four quarters instead of one. Some wild beast has been
the thief!"
"Yes, Sahib, you speakee true," said the shikarree, who had now reached
the spot; "he wild beast--he very wild beast--big tiger!"
At the mention of the name of this terrible animal, both boys started,
and looked anxiously around. Even Ossaroo himself exhibited symptoms of
fear. To think they had been sleeping on the open ground so close to a
tiger--the most savage and dreaded of all beasts--and this, too, in
India, where they were constantly hearing tales of the ravages committed
by these animals!
"You think it was a tiger?" said the botanist, interrupting Ossaroo.
"Sure, Sahib--lookee here!--Sahib, see him track!"
The shikarree pointed to some tracks in the selvedge of sand that lined
the bank of the rivulet. There, sure enough, were the foot-prints of a
large animal; and, upon inspecting them closely, they could easily be
distinguished as those of a creature of the cat tribe. There were the
pads or cushions smoothly imprinted in the sand, and the slight
impression of the claws--for the tiger, although possessed of very long
and sharp claws, can retract these when walking, so as to leave very
little mark of them in the mud or sand. The tracks were too large to be
mistaken for those either of a leopard or panther, and the only other
animal to which they could appertain was the lion. There were lions in
that district. But Ossaroo well knew how to distinguish between the
tracks of the two great carnivora, and without a moment's hesitation he
pronounced the robber to have been a tiger.
It now became a matter of serious consideration what they should do
under the circumstances. Should they abandon their camp, and _move_
forward? Karl was very desirous of spending a day or two in the
neighbourhood. He made no doubt of being able to find several new
species of plants there. But with the knowledge of having such a
neighbour they would not sleep very soundly. The tiger would, no doubt,
return to the camp. He was not likely to stay away from a quarter where
he had found such hospitable entertainment--such a good supper. He must
have seen the rest of the venison, and would be sure to pay them another
visit on the following night. True, they might kindle large fires, and
frighten him off from their sleeping place; still, they would be under
an unpleasant apprehension; and even during the day they had no
confidence that he might not attack them--particularly if they went
botanising in the woods. The very places into which their occupation
would lead them, would be those in which they were most likely to meet
this dreaded neighbour. Perhaps, therefore, it would be best to pack
up, and proceed on their journey.
While eating their breakfasts the thing was debated among them. Caspar,
full of hunter-spirit, was desirous of having a peep at the tiger
anyhow; but Karl was more prudent, if not a little more timid, and
thought it was better to "move on." This was the opinion of the
botanist; but he at length gave way to Caspar, and more particularly to
Ossaroo, who proposed _killing_ the tiger if they would only remain one
night longer upon the ground.
"What! with your bow, Ossaroo?" asked Caspar; "with your poisoned
arrows?"
"No, young Sahib," replied Ossaroo.
"I thought you would have but little chance to kill a great tiger with
such weapons. How do you mean to do it then?"
"If Sahib Karl consent to stay till to-morrow, Ossaroo show you--he kill
tiger--he catch 'im 'live."
"Catch him alive!--In a trap?--In a snare?"
"No trapee--no snaree. You see. Ossaroo do what he say--he take tiger
'live."
Ossaroo had evidently some plan of his own, and the others became
curious to know what it was. As the shikarree promised that it was
unattended with danger, the botanist consented to remain, and let the
trial be made.
Ossaroo now let them into the secret of his plan; and as soon as they
had finished eating their breakfasts, all hands set to work to assist
him in carrying it into execution.
They proceeded as follows. In the first place, a large number of joints
of bamboo were obtained from a neighbouring thicket of these canes. The
bark of the banyan was then cut, and the canes inserted in such a manner
that the white milky sap ran into them. Each joint was left closed at
the bottom, and served as a vessel to collect the juice, and such stems
of the fig only were tapped as were young and full of sap. As soon as a
sufficient quantity of the fluid had been distilled into the canes, the
contents of all were poured into the cooking-pot, and hung over a slow
fire. The sap was then stirred--fresh juice being occasionally thrown
in--and in a short while the whole attained the toughness and
consistency of the best birdlime. It was, in fact, true birdlime--the
same that is used by the bird-catchers of India, and quite equal to that
manufactured from the holly.
During the time that this was being prepared, Karl and Caspar, by the
directions of Ossaroo, had climbed into the trees, and collected an
immense quantity of leaves. These leaves were also taken from the
banyan figs, and for this purpose they had selected those that grew on
the youngest trees and shoots. Each leaf was as large as a tea-plate,
and they were covered with a woolly pubescence, peculiar only to the
leaves upon the younger trees--for as the banyan grows old its leaves
become harder and smoother on the surface.
The fig-leaves having been gathered to his hand, and the birdlime made
ready, Ossaroo proceeded to carry out his design.
The two remaining quarters of the venison still hung on the tree. These
were permitted to remain--as a bait to the singular trap that Ossaroo
was about to set--only that they were raised higher from the ground, in
order that the tiger might not too readily snatch them away, and thus
defeat the stratagem of the hunter.
The venison having been hung to his liking, Ossaroo now cleared the
ground for a large space around--directing his assistants to carry off
all the brush and dead wood to a distance from the spot. This was
quickly done, and then the shikarree put the finishing stroke to his
work. This occupied him for two hours at least, and consisted in
anointing all the fig-leaves that had been gathered with a coat of
birdlime, and spreading them over the ground, until they covered a space
of many yards in circumference. In the centre of this space hung the
venison; and no creature could have approached within yards of it
without treading upon the smeared leaves. The leaves had been anointed
upon both sides, so that they adhered slightly to the grass, and a
breeze of wind could not have disarranged them to any great extent.
When all was fixed to their satisfaction, Ossaroo and the others
returned to the camp-fire, and ate a hearty dinner. It was already late
in the day, for they had been many hours at work, and they had not
thought of dining until their arrangements were complete. Nothing more
remained to be done, but to await the result of their stratagem.
CHAPTER TEN.
A TALK ABOUT TIGERS.
I need not describe a tiger. You have seen one, or the picture of one.
He is the great _striped_ cat. The large _spotted_ ones are not tigers.
They are either jaguars, or panthers, or leopards, or ounces, or
cheetahs, or servals. But there is no danger of your mistaking the
tiger for any other animal. He is the largest of the feline tribe--the
lion alone excepted--and individual tigers have been measured as large
as the biggest lion. The shaggy mane that covers the neck and shoulders
of an old male lion gives him the appearance of being of greater
dimensions than he really is. Skin him and he would not be larger than
an old male tiger also divested of his hide.
Like the lion, the tiger varies but little in form or colour. Nature
does not sport with these powerful beasts. It is only upon the meaner
animals she plays off her eccentricities. The tiger may be seen with
the ground-colour of a lighter or deeper yellow, and the stripes or bars
more or less black; but the same general appearance is preserved, and
the species can always be recognised at a glance.
The range or habitat of the tiger is more limited than that of the lion.
The latter exists throughout the whole of Africa, as well as the
southern half of Asia; whereas the tiger is found only in the
south-eastern countries of Asia, and some of the larger islands of the
Indian Archipelago. Westwardly his range does not extend to this side
of the Indus river, and how far north in Asia is uncertain. Some
naturalists assert that there are tigers in Asia as far north as the Obi
River. This would prove the tiger to be not altogether a tropical
animal, as he is generally regarded. It is certain that tigers once did
inhabit the countries around the Caspian Sea. There lay Hyrcania; and
several Roman writers speak of the Hyrcanian tigers. They could not
have meant any of the spotted cats,--ounce, panther, or leopard,--for
the Romans knew the difference between these and the striped or true
tiger. If, then, the tiger was an inhabitant of those trans-Himalayan
regions in the days of Augustus, it is possible it still exists there,
as we have proofs of its existence in Mongolia and northern China at the
present day.
Were we to believe some travellers, we should have the tiger, not only
in Africa, but in America. The jaguar is the tiger (_tigre_) of the
Spanish Americans; and the panther, leopard, and cheetah, have all done
duty as "tigers" in the writings of old travellers in Africa.
The true home of this fierce creature is the hot jungle-covered country
that exists in extended tracts in Hindostan, Siam, Malaya, and parts of
China. There the tiger roams undisputed lord of the thicket and forest;
and although the lion is also found in these countries, he is
comparatively a rare animal, and, from being but seldom met with, is
less talked about or feared.
We who live far away from the haunts of these great carnivora, can
hardly realise the terror which is inspired by them in the countries
they infest.