with the same dread of meeting a tiger, that we would have for an
encounter with a mad dog. This dread is by no means founded upon mere
fancies or fabricated stories. Every village has its true tales of
tiger attacks and encounters, and every settlement has its list of
killed or maimed. You can scarce credit such a relation; but it is a
well-known fact that whole districts of fertile _country_ have from time
to time been abandoned by their inhabitants out of pure fear of the
tigers and panthers which infested them! Indeed, similar cases of
depopulation have occurred in South America, caused by a far less
formidable wild beast--the jaguar.
In some parts of India the natives scarce attempt resistance to the
attack of the tiger. Indeed, the superstition of his victims aids the
fierce monster in their destruction. They regard him as being gifted
with supernatural power, and sent by their gods to destroy; and under
this conviction yield themselves up, without making the slightest
resistance.
In other parts, where races exist possessed of more energy of character,
the tiger is hunted eagerly, and various modes of killing or capturing
him are practised in different districts.
Sometimes a bow is set with poisoned arrows, and a cord attached to the
string. A bait is then placed on the ground, and arranged in such a way
that the tiger, on approaching it, presses against the cord, sets the
bow-string free, and is pierced by the arrow--the poison of which
eventually causes his death.
A spring-gun is set off by a similar contrivance, and the tiger shoots
himself.
The log-trap or "dead-fall"--often employed by American backwoodsmen for
capturing the black bear--is also in use in India for trapping the
tiger. This consists of a heavy log or beam so adjusted upon the top of
another one by a prop or "trigger," as to fall and crush whatever animal
may touch the trigger. A bait is also used for this species of trap.
Hunting the tiger upon elephants is a royal sport in India, and is often
followed by the Indian rajahs, and sometimes by British sportsmen--
officers of the East India Company. This sport is, of course, very
exciting; but there is nothing of a _ruse_ practised in it. The hunters
go armed with rifles and spears; and attended by a large number of
natives, who beat the jungle and drive the game within reach of the
sportsmen. Many lives are sacrificed in this dangerous sport; but those
who suffer are usually the poor peasants employed as beaters; and an
Indian rajah holds the lives of a score or two of his subjects as
lightly as that of a tiger itself.
It is said the Chinese catch the tiger in a box-trap, which they bait
simply with a looking-glass. The tiger, on approaching the
looking-glass, perceives his own shadow, and mistaking it for a rival,
rushes forward to the trap, frees the trigger, and is caught. It may be
that the Chinese practised such a method. That part is likely enough;
but it is not likely that they take many tigers in this way.
Perhaps you may be of opinion that the plan which Ossaroo was about to
follow was quite as absurd as that of the Chinese. It certainly did
sound very absurd to his companions, when he first told them that it was
his intention to _catch the tiger by birdlime_!
CHAPTER ELEVEN.
A TIGER TAKEN BY BIRDLIME.
The plan of the shikarree was put to the test sooner than any of them
expected. They did not look for the tiger to return before sunset, and
they had resolved to pass the night among the branches of the banyan in
order to be out of the way of danger. The tiger might take it into his
head to stroll into their camp; and although, under ordinary
circumstances, these fierce brutes have a dread of fire, there are some
of them that do not regard it, and instances have occurred of tigers
making their attack upon men who were seated close to a blazing pile!
Ossaroo knew of several such cases, and had, therefore, given his
advice, that all of them should pass the night in the tree. It was true
the tiger could easily scale the banyan if the notion occurred to him;
but, unless they made some noise to attract his attention, he would not
be likely to discover their whereabouts. They had taken the precaution
to erect a platform of bamboos among the branches, so as to serve them
for a resting-place.
After all, they were not under the necessity of resorting to this
elevated roost,--at least for the purpose of passing the night there.
But they occupied it for a while; and during that while they were
witnesses to a scene that for singularity, and comicality as well, was
equal to anything that any of them had ever beheld.
It wanted about half-an-hour of sunset, and they were all seated around
the camp-fire, when a singular noise reached their ears. It was not
unlike the "whirr" made by a thrashing-machine--which any one must have
heard who has travelled through an agricultural district. Unlike this,
however, the sound was not prolonged, but broke out at intervals,
continued for a few seconds, and then was silent again.
Ossaroo was the only one of the party who, on hearing this sound,
exhibited any feelings of alarm. The others were simply curious. It
was an unusual sound. They wondered what was producing it--nothing
more. They quite shared the alarm of the shikarree, when the latter
informed them that what they heard was neither more nor less than the
"purr" of a tiger!
Ossaroo communicated this information in an ominous whisper, at the same
instant crouching forward towards the main trunk of the banyan, and
beckoning to the others to follow him.
Without a word they obeyed the sign, and all three climbed, one after
the other, up the trunk, and silently seated themselves among the
branches.
By looking through the outer screen of leaves, and a little downward,
they could see the quarters of venison hanging from the limb, and also
the whole surface of the ground where the glittering leaves were spread.
Whether the haunch which the tiger had stolen on the preceding night had
not been sufficient for his supper, and he had grown hungry again before
his usual feeding-time, is uncertain. But certain it is that Ossaroo,
who understood well the habits of this striped robber, did not expect
him to return so soon. He looked for him after darkness should set in.
But the loud "purr-r-r" that at intervals came booming through the
jungle, and each time sounding more distinctly, showed that the great
cat was upon the ground.
All at once they espied him coming out of the bushes, and on the other
side of the rivulet--his broad whitish throat and breast shining in
contrast with the dark green foliage. He was crouching just after the
manner of a house-cat when making her approach to some unwary bird--his
huge paws spread before him, and his long back hollowed down--a hideous
and fearful object to behold. His eyes appeared to flash fire, as he
bent them upon the tempting joints hanging high up upon the branch of
the tree.
After reconnoitring a little, he gathered up his long back into a curve,
vaulted into the air, and cleared the rivulet from bank to bank. Then,
without further pause, he trotted nimbly forward, and stopped directly
under the hanging joints.
Ossaroo had purposely raised the meat above its former elevation, and
the lowest ends of the joints were full twelve feet from the ground.
Although the tiger can bound to a very great distance in a horizontal
direction, he is not so well fitted for springing vertically upwards,
and therefore the tempting morsels were just beyond his reach. He
seemed to be somewhat nonplussed at this--for upon his last visit he had
found things rather different--but after regarding the joints for a
moment or two, and uttering a loud snuff of discontent, he flattened his
paws against the ground, and sprang high into air.
The attempt was a failure. He came back to the earth without having
touched the meat, and expressed his dissatisfaction by an angry growl.
In another moment, he made a second spring upwards. This time, he
struck one of the quarters with his paw, and sent it swinging backwards
and forwards, though it had been secured too well to the branch to be in
any danger of falling.
All at once, the attention of the great brute became directed to a
circumstance, which seemed to puzzle him not a little. He noticed that
there was something adhering to his paws. He raised one of them from
the ground, and saw that two or three leaves were sticking to it. What
could be the matter with the leaves, to cling to his soles in that
manner? They appeared to be wet, but what of that? He had never known
wet leaves stick to his feet any more than dry ones. Perhaps it was
this had hindered him from springing up as high as he had intended? At
all events, he did not feel quite comfortable, and he should have the
leaves off before he attempted to leap again. He gave his paw a slight
shake, but the leaves would not go. He shook it more violently, still
the leaves adhered! He could not make it out. There was some gummy
substance upon them, such as he had never met with before in all his
travels. He had rambled over many a bed of fig-leaves in his day, but
had never set foot upon such sticky leaves as these.
Another hard shake of the paw produced no better effect. Still stuck
fast the leaves, as if they had been pitch plasters; one covering the
whole surface of his foot, and others adhering to its edges. Several
had even fastened themselves on his ankles. What the deuce did it all
mean?
As shaking the paw was of no use, he next attempted to get rid of them
by the only other means known to him; that was by rubbing them off
against his cheeks and snout. He raised the paw to his ears, and drew
it along the side of his head. He succeeded in getting most of them off
his foot in this way, but, to his chagrin, they now adhered to his head,
ears, and jaws, where they felt still more uncomfortable and annoying.
These he resolved to detach, by using his paw upon them; but, instead of
doing so, he only added to their number, for, on raising his foot, he
found that a fresh batch of the sticky leaves had fastened upon it. He
now tried the other foot, with no better effect. It, too, was covered
with gummy leaves, that only became detached to fasten upon his jaws,
and stick there, in spite of all his efforts to tear them off. Even
some of them had got over his eyes, and already half-blinded him! But
one way remained to get rid of the leaves, that had so fastened upon his
head. Every time he applied his paws, it only made things worse. But
there was still a way to get them off--so thought he--by rubbing his
head along the ground.
No sooner thought of than done. He pressed his jaws down to the earth,
and, using his hind-legs to push himself along, he rubbed hard to rid
himself of the annoyance. He then turned over, and tried the same
method with the other side; but, after continuing at this for some
moments, he discovered he was only making matters worse; in fact, he
found that both his eyes were now completely "bunged up," and that he
was perfectly blind! He felt, moreover, that his whole head, as well as
his body, was now covered, even to the tip of his tail.
By this time, he had lost all patience. He thought no longer of the
venison. He thought only of freeing himself from the detestable plight
in which he was placed. He sprang and bounded over the ground; now
rubbing his head along the surface, now scraping it with his huge paws,
and ever and anon dashing himself against the stems of the trees that
grew around. All this while, his growling, and howling, and screaming,
filled the woods with the most hideous noises.
Up to this crisis, our travellers had watched his every movement, all of
them bursting with laughter; to which, however, they dare not give
utterance, lest they might spoil the sport. At length, Ossaroo knew
that the time was come for something more serious than laughter; and,
descending from the tree with his long spear, he beckoned the others to
follow with their guns.
The shikarree could have approached and thrust the tiger, without much
danger; but, to make sure, the double-barrel, already loaded with ball,
was fired at him, along with Caspar's rifle; and one of the bullets
striking him between the ribs, put an end to his struggles, by laying
him out upon the grass dead as a herring.
Upon examining him, they found that the fig-leaves go covered his eyes,
as to render him completely blind. What prevented him from scratching
them off with his huge claws was, that these were so wrapped up in the
leafy envelope as to render them perfectly useless, and no longer
dangerous, had any one engaged with him in close combat.
When the exciting scene was over, all of the party indulged in hearty
laughter; for there was something extremely ludicrous, not only in the
idea, but in the act itself, of trapping a royal tiger by so simple a
contrivance as birdlime.
CHAPTER TWELVE.
A RARE RAFT.
Ossaroo did not fail to skin the tiger, and to eat for his supper a
large steak, cut off from his well-fleshed ribs. The others did not
join him in this singular viand, although the shikarree assured them
that tiger-beef was far superior to the venison of the sambur deer.
There may have been truth in Ossaroo's assertion; for it is well-known,
that the flesh of several kinds of carnivorous animals is not only
palatable, but delicate eating. Indeed, the delicacy of the meat does
not seem at all to depend upon the food of the animal; since no creature
is a more unclean feeder than the domestic pig, and what is nicer or
more tender than a bit of roast pork? On the other hand, many animals,
whose flesh is exceedingly bitter, feed only on fresh grass or sweet
succulent roots and plants. As a proof of this, I might instance the
tapir of South America, the quaggas and zebras of Africa, and even some
animals of the deer and antelope tribes, whose flesh is only eatable in
cases of emergency.
The same fact may be observed in relation to birds. Many birds of prey
furnish a dish quite equal to choice game. For one, the flesh of the
large chicken-hawk of America (eaten and eagerly sought after by the
plantation negroes) is not much, if anything, inferior to that of the
bird upon which it preys.
It was not for the "meat," however, that Ossaroo stripped the tiger of
his skin, but rather for the skin itself; and not so much for the
absolute value of the skin, for in India that is not great. Had it been
a panther or leopard skin, or even the less handsome hide of the
cheetah, its absolute value would have been greater. But there was an
artificial value attached to the skin of a tiger, and that well knew the
shikarree. He knew that there was a _bounty of ten rupees_ for every
tiger killed, and also that to obtain this bounty it was necessary to
show the skin. True it was the East India Company that paid the bounty,
and only for tigers killed in their territory. This one had not been
killed under the British flag, but what of that? A tiger-skin was a
tiger-skin; and Ossaroo expected some day not distant to walk the
streets of Calcutta; and, with this idea in his mind, he climbed up the
great banyan, and hid his tiger-skin among its topmost branches, to be
left there till his return from the mountains.
The next two days were spent in the same neighbourhood, and the
plant-hunter was very successful. The seeds of many rare plants, some
of them quite new to the botanical world, were here obtained, and like
the skin of the tiger deposited in a safe place, so that the collectors
might not be burdened with them on their journey to the mountains. It
was in this way that Karl had resolved upon making his collections,
leaving the seeds and nuts he should obtain at various places upon his
route; and, when returning, he trusted to be able to employ some coolies
to assist in getting them carried to Calcutta or some other sea-port.
On the fourth day the travellers again took the route, still facing due
northward in the direction of the mountains. They needed no guide to
point out their course, as the river which they had resolved upon
following upwards was guide enough; usually they kept along its banks,
but sometimes a thick marshy jungle forced them to abandon the
water-edge and keep away for some distance into the back country, where
the path was more safe and open.
About midday they arrived at the banks of a stream, that was a branch of
the main river. This stream lay transversely to their route, and, of
course, had to be crossed. There was neither bridge nor ford, nor
crossing of any kind to be seen, and the current was both wide and deep.
They followed it up for more than a mile; but it neither grew shallower
nor yet more narrow. They walked up and down for a couple of hours,
endeavouring to find a crossing, but to no purpose.
Both Caspar and Ossaroo were good swimmers, but Karl could not swim a
stroke; and it was entirely on his account that they stayed to search
for a ford. The other two would have dashed in at once, regardless of
the swift current. What was to be done with Karl? In such a rapid
running river it was as much as the best swimmer could do to carry
himself across; therefore not one of the others could assist Karl. How
then, were they to get over?
They had seated themselves under a tree to debate this question; and no
doubt the habile Ossaroo would soon have offered a solution to it, and
got the young Sahib across, but at that moment assistance arrived from a
very unexpected quarter.
There was a belt of open ground--a sort of meadow upon the side opposite
to where they were seated, which was backed by a jungly forest.
Out of this forest a man was seen to emerge, and take his way across the
meadow in the direction of the river. His swarthy complexion, and bushy
black hair hanging neglected over his shoulders--his dress consisting of
a single blanket-like robe, held by a leathern belt around the waist--
his bare legs and sandalled feet--all bore evidence that he was one of
the half-savage natives of the Terai.
His appearance created a great sensation, and astonished all the party--
Ossaroo, perhaps, excepted. It was not his wild look nor his odd
costume that produced this astonishment, for men who have travelled in
Hindostan are not likely to be surprised by wild looks and strange
dresses. What astonished our travellers--and it would have had a like
effect upon the most stoical people in the world--was that the
individual who approached was carrying a _buffalo upon his back_! Not
the quarter of a buffalo, nor the head of a buffalo, but a whole one, as
big, and black, and hairy, as an English bull! The back of the animal
lay against the back of the man, with the head and horns projecting over
his shoulder, the legs sticking out behind, and the tail dragging about
his heels!
How one man could bear up under such a load was more than our travellers
could divine; but not only did this wild Mech bear up under it, but he
appeared to carry it with ease, and stepped as lightly across the meadow
as if it had been a bag of feathers he was carrying!
Both Karl and Caspar uttered exclamations of surprise, and rapid
interrogatories were put to Ossaroo for an explanation. Ossaroo only
smiled significantly in reply, evidently able to explain this mysterious
phenomenon; but enjoying the surprise of his companions too much to
offer a solution of it as long as he could decorously withhold it.
The surprise of the boys was not diminished, when another native stepped
out of the timber, buffalo on back, like the first; and then another and
another--until half-a-dozen men, with a like number of buffaloes on
their shoulders, were seen crossing the meadows!
Meanwhile the foremost had reached the bank of the river; and now the
astonishment of the botanists reached its climax, when they saw this man
let down the huge animal from his shoulders, embrace it with his arms,
place it before him in the water, and then mount astride _upon its
back_! In a moment more he was out in the stream, and his buffalo
swimming under him, or rather he seemed to be pushing it along, using
his arms and legs as paddles to impel it forward!
The others, on reaching the water, acted in a precisely similar manner,
and the whole party were soon launched, and crossing the stream
together.
It was not until the foremost Mech had arrived at the bank close to
where our travellers awaited them, _lifted his buffalo out of the water,
and reshouldered it_, that the latter learnt to their surprise that what
they had taken for buffaloes were nothing more than the inflated skins
of these animals that were thus employed as rafts by the rude but
ingenious natives of the district!
The same contrivance is used by the inhabitants of the Punjaub and other
parts of India, where fords are few and bridges cannot be built. The
buffaloes are skinned, with the legs, heads, and horns left on, to serve
as handles and supports in managing them. They are then rendered
airtight and inflated, heads, legs, and all; and in this way bear such a
resemblance to the animals from which they have been taken, that even
dogs are deceived, and often growl and bark at them. Of course the
quantity of air is for more than sufficient to buoy up the weight of a
man. Sometimes, when goods and other articles are to be carried across,
several skins are attached together, and thus form an excellent raft.
This was done upon the spot, and at a moment's notice. The Mechs,
although a half-savage people, are far from uncivil in their intercourse
with strangers. A word from Ossaroo, accompanied by a few pipes of
tobacco from the botanist, procured the desired raft of buffalo-skins;
and our party, in less than half-an-hour, were safely deposited upon the
opposite bank, and allowed to continue their journey without the
slightest molestation.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN.
THE TALLEST GRASS IN THE WORLD.
As our travellers proceeded up-stream, they were occasionally compelled
to pass through tracts covered with a species of jungle-grass, called
"Dab-grass," which not only reached above the heads of the tallest of
the party, but would have done so had they been giants! Goliath or the
Cyclops might have, either of them, stood on tiptoe in a field of this
grass, without being able to look over its tops.
The botanist was curious enough to measure some stalks of this gigantic
grass, and found them full fourteen feet in height, and as thick as a
man's finger near the roots! Of course no animal, except a giraffe,
could raise its head over the tops of such grass as this; but there are
no giraffes in this part of the world--these long-necked creatures being
confined to the Continent of Africa. Wild elephants, however, are found
here; and the largest of them can hide himself in the midst of this tall
sward, as easily as a mouse would in an English meadow.
But there are other animals that make their layer in the dab-grass. It
is a favourite haunt both of the tiger and Indian lion; and it was not
without feelings of fear that our botanical travellers threaded their
way amidst its tall cane-like culms.
You will be ready to admit, that the dab-grass is a tall grass. But it
is far from being the tallest in the world, or in the East Indies
either. What think you of a grass nearly five times as tall? And yet
in that same country such a grass exists. Yes--there is a species of
"panic-grass," the _Panicum arborescens_, which actually grows to the
height of fifty feet, with a culm not thicker than an ordinary
goose-quill! This singular species is, however, a climbing plant,
growing up amidst the trees of the forest, supported by their branches,
and almost reaching to their tops.
This panic-grass you will, no doubt, fancy _must be the tallest grass in
the world_. But no. Prepare yourself to hear that there is still
another kind, not only taller than this, but one that grows to the
prodigious height of a hundred feet!
You will guess what sort I am about to name. It could be no other than
the giant _bamboo. That is the tallest grass in the world_.
You know the bamboo as a "cane;" but for all that it is a true grass,
belonging to the natural order of _gramineae_, or grasses, the chief
difference between it, and many others of the same order, being its more
gigantic dimensions.