there is no species or form so valuable to the human race as the
"grasses." Among all civilised nations bread is reckoned as the food of
primary importance, so much so as to have obtained the sobriquet of "the
staff of life;" and nearly every sort of bread is the production of a
grass. Wheat, barley, oats, maize, and rice, are all grasses; and so,
too, is the sugar-cane--so valuable for its luxurious product. It would
take up many pages of our little volume to enumerate the various species
of _gramineae_, that contribute to the necessities and luxuries of
mankind; and other pages might be written about species equally
available for the purposes of life, but which have not yet been brought
into cultivation.
Of all kinds of grasses, however, none possesses greater interest than
the bamboo. Although not the most useful as an article of food, this
noble plant serves a greater number of purposes in the economy of human
life, than perhaps any other vegetable in existence.
What the palm-tree of many species is to the natives of South America or
tropical Africa, such is the bamboo to the inhabitants of Southern Asia
and its islands. It is doubtful whether nature has conferred upon these
people any greater boon than this noble plant, the light and graceful
culms of which are applied by them to a multitude of useful purposes.
Indeed so numerous are the uses made of the bamboo, that it would be an
elaborate work even to make out a list of them. A few of the purposes
to which it is applied will enable you to judge of the valuable nature
of this princely grass.
The young shoots of some species are cut when tender, and eaten like
asparagus. The full-grown stems, while green, form elegant cases,
exhaling a perpetual moisture, and capable of transporting fresh flowers
for hundreds of miles. When ripe and hard, they are converted into
bows, arrows, and quivers, lance-shafts, the masts of vessels,
walking-sticks, the poles of palanquins, the floors and supporters of
bridges, and a variety of similar purposes. In a growing state the
strong kinds are formed into stockades, which are impenetrable to any
thing but regular infantry or artillery. By notching their sides the
Malays make wonderfully light scaling ladders, which can be conveyed
with facility, where heavier machines could not be transported. Bruised
and crushed in water, the leaves and stems form Chinese paper, the finer
qualities of which are only improved by a mixture of raw cotton and by
more careful pounding. The leaves of a small species are the material
used by the Chinese for the lining of their tea-chests. Cut into
lengths, and the partitions knocked out, they form durable water-pipes,
or by a little contrivance are made into cases for holding rolls of
paper. Slit into strips, they afford a most durable material for
weaving into mats, baskets, window-blinds, and even the sails of boats;
and the larger and thicker truncheons are carved by the Chinese into
beautiful ornaments. For building purposes the bamboo is still more
important. In many parts of India the framework of the houses of the
natives is chiefly composed of this material. In the flooring, whole
stems, four or live inches in diameter, are laid close to each other,
and across these, laths of split bamboo, about an inch wide, are
fastened down by filaments of rattan cane. The sides of the houses are
closed in by the bamboos opened and rendered flat by splitting or
notching the circular joints on the outside, chipping away the
corresponding divisions within, and laying it in the sun to dry, pressed
down with weights. Whole bamboos often form the upright timbers, and
the house is generally roofed in with a thatch of narrow split bamboos,
six feet long, placed in regular layers, each reaching within two feet
of the extremity of that beneath it, by which a treble covering is
formed. Another and most ingenious roof is also formed by cutting large
straight bamboos of sufficient length to reach from the ridge to the
eaves, then splitting them exactly in two, knocking out the partitions,
and arranging them in close order with the hollow or inner sides
uppermost; after which a second layer, with the outer or concave sides
up, is placed upon the other in such a manner that each of the convex
pieces falls into the two contiguous concave pieces covering their
edges, thus serving as gutters to carry off the rain that falls on the
convex layer.
Such are a few of the uses of the bamboo, enumerated by an ingenious
writer; and these are probably not more than one tenth of the purposes
to which this valuable cane is applied by the natives of India.
The quickness with which the bamboo can be cut and fashioned to any
purpose is not the least remarkable of its properties. One of the most
distinguished of English botanists (Hooker) relates that a complete
_furnished_ house of bamboo, containing chairs and a table, was erected
by his six attendants in the space of one hour!
Of the bamboos there are many species--perhaps fifty in all--some of
them natives of Africa and South America, but the greater number
belonging to southern Asia, which is the true home of these gigantic
grasses. The species differ in many respects from each other--some of
them being thick and strong, while others are light and slender, and
elastic. In nothing do the different species vary more than in size.
They are found growing of all sizes, from the dwarf bamboo, as slender
as a wheat-stalk, and only two feet high, to the _Bambusa maxima_, as
thick as a man's body, and towering to the height of a hundred feet!
CHAPTER FOURTEEN.
THE MAN-EATERS.
Ossaroo had lived all his life in a bamboo country, and was well
acquainted with all its uses. Hardly a vessel or implement that he
could not manufacture of bamboo canes of some kind or another, and many
a purpose besides he knew how to apply them to. Had he been obliged to
cross a tract of country where there was no water, and required a large
vessel, or "canteen," to carry a supply, he would have made it as
follows. He would have taken two joints of bamboo, each a couple of
feet long and six or seven inches in diameter. These he would have
trimmed, so that one of the nodes between the hollow spaces would serve
as a bottom for each. In the node, or partition, at the top, he would
have pierced a small hole to admit the water, which hole could be closed
by a stopper of the pith of a palm or some soft wood, easily procured in
the tropical forests of India. In case he could not have found bamboos
with joints sufficiently long for the purpose it would have mattered
little. Two or more joints would have been taken for each jar, and the
partitions between them broken through, so as to admit the water into
the hollow spaces within. The pair of "jars" he would have then bound
together at a very acute angle--something after the form of the letter
V--and then to carry them with ease he would have strapped the bamboos
to his back, the apex of the angle downwards, and one of the ends just
peeping over each shoulder. In this way he would have provided himself
with a water-vessel that for strength and lightness--the two great
essentials--would have been superior to anything that either tinker or
cooper could construct.
As it happened that they were travelling through a district where there
was water at the distance of every mile or two, this bamboo canteen was
not needed. A single joint holding a quart was enough to give any of
the party a drink whenever they required it.
Now had the Mechs not arrived opportunely with their rafts of inflated
buffalo-skins, there can be no doubt that Ossaroo would have found some
mode of crossing the stream. A proof that he could have done so
occurred but a few hours after, when our travellers found themselves in
a similar dilemma. This time it was the main river, whose course they
were following, that lay in the way. A large bend had to be got over,
else, they would have been compelled to take a circuitous route of many
miles, and by a path which the guide knew to be difficult on account of
some marshes that intervened.
Ossaroo proposed fording the river, but how was that to be done? It
would be a longer swim than the other, and there were no natives with
their skin-rafts--at least none were in sight. But there grew close by
a clump of noble bamboos, and the guide pointed to them.
"Oh! you intend to make a raft of the canes?" inquired the botanist.
"Yes, Sahib," replied the shikarree.
"It will take a long time, I fear?"
"No fearee, Sahib; half-hour do."
Ossaroo was as good as his promise. In half-an-hour not only one raft,
but three--that is, a raft for each--was constructed and ready to be
launched. The construction of these was as simple as it was ingenious.
Each consisted of four pieces of bamboo, lashed together crossways with
strips of rattan, so as to form a square in the centre just large enough
to admit the body of a man. Of course, the bamboos, being hollow
within, and closed at both ends, had sufficient buoyancy to sustain a
man's weight above water, and nothing more was wanted.
Each of the party having adjusted his burden upon his back, stepped
within the square space, lifted the framework in his hands, walked
boldly into the river, and was soon floating out upon its current.
Ossaroo had given them instructions how to balance themselves so as to
keep upright, and also how to paddle with both hands and feet: so that,
after a good deal of plashing and spluttering, and laughing and
shouting, all three arrived safely on the opposite bank. Of course,
Fritz swam over without a raft.
As the river had to be re-crossed on the other arm of the bend, each
carried his raft across the neck or isthmus, where a similar fording was
made, that brought them once more on the path they were following. Thus
every day--almost every hour--our travellers were astonished by some new
feat of their hunter-guide, and some new purpose to which the noble
bamboo could be applied.
Still another astonishment awaited them. Ossaroo had yet a feat in
store, in the performance of which the bamboo was to play a conspicuous
part; and it chanced that upon the very next day, an opportunity
occurred by which the hunter was enabled to perform this feat to the
great gratification not only of his travelling companions, but to the
delight of a whole village of natives, who derived no little benefit
from the performance.
I have already said, that there are many parts of India where the people
live in great fear of the tigers--as well as lions, wild elephants,
panthers, and rhinoceroses. These people have no knowledge of proper
fire-arms. Some, indeed, carry the clumsy matchlock, which, of course,
is of little or no service in hunting; and their bows, even with
poisoned arrows, are but poor weapons when used in an encounter with
these strong savage beasts.
Often a whole village is kept in a state of terror for weeks or months
by a single tiger who may have made his lair in the neighbourhood, and
whose presence is known by his repeated forays upon the cows, buffaloes,
or other domesticated animals of the villagers. It is only after this
state of things has continued for a length of time, and much loss has
been sustained, that these poor people, goaded to desperation, at length
assemble together, and risk an encounter with the tawny tyrant. In such
encounters human lives are frequently sacrificed, and generally some one
of the party receives a blow or scratch from the tiger's paw, which
maims or lames him for the rest of his days.
But there is still a worse case than even this. Not infrequently the
tiger, instead of preying upon their cattle, carries off one of the
natives themselves; and where this occurs, the savage monster, if not
pursued and killed, is certain to repeat the offence. It is strange,
and true as strange, that a tiger having once fed upon human flesh,
appears ever after to be fonder of it than of any other food, and will
make the most daring attempts to procure it. Such tigers are not
uncommon in India, where they are known among the natives by the dreaded
name of _man-eaters_!
It is not a little curious that the Caffres and other natives of South
Africa, apply the same term to individuals of the lion species, known to
be imbued with a similar appetite.
It is difficult to conceive a more horrible monster than a lion or tiger
of such tastes; and in India, when the presence of such an _one_ is
discovered, the whole neighbourhood lives in dread. Often when a
British post is near, the natives make application to the officers to
assist them in destroying the terrible creature--well knowing that our
countrymen, with their superior courage, with their elephants and fine
rifles, are more than a match for the jungle tyrant. When no such help
is at hand, the shikarrees, or native hunters, usually assemble, and
either take the tiger by stratagem, or risk their lives in a bold
encounter. In many a tiger-hunt had Ossaroo distinguished himself, both
by stratagem and prowess, and there was no mode of trapping or killing a
tiger that was not known to him.
He was now called upon to give an exhibition of his craft, which, in
point of ingenuity, was almost equal to the stratagem of the limed
fig-leaves.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN.
THE DEATH OF THE MAN-EATER.
The path which our travellers were following led them into one of the
native villages of the Terai, which lay in a sequestered part of the
forest. The inhabitants of this village received them with acclamations
of joy. Their approach had been reported before they reached the place,
and a deputation of the villagers met them on the way, hailing them with
joyful exclamations and gestures of welcome.
Karl and Caspar, ignorant of the native language, and, of course, not
comprehending what was said, were for some time at a loss to understand
the meaning of these demonstrations. Ossaroo was appealed to, to
furnish an explanation.
"A man-eater," he said.
"A man-eater!"
"Yes, Sahib; a man-eater in the jungle."
This was not sufficiently explicit. What did Ossaroo mean? A man-eater
in the jungle? What sort of creature was that? Neither Karl nor Caspar
had ever heard of such a thing before. They questioned Ossaroo.
The latter explained to them what was a man-eater. It was a tiger so
called, as you already know, on account of its preying upon human
beings. This one had already killed and carried off a man, a woman, and
two children, beside large numbers of domestic animals. For more than
three months it had infested the village, and kept the inhabitants in a
state of constant alarm. Indeed, several families had deserted the
place solely through fear of this terrible tiger; and those that
remained were in the habit, as soon as night came on, of shutting
themselves up within their houses, without daring to stir out again till
morning. In the instance of one of the children, even this precaution
had not served, for the fierce tiger had broken through the frail wall
of bamboos, and carried the child off before the eyes of its afflicted
parents!
Several times the timid but incensed villagers had assembled and
endeavoured to destroy this terrible enemy. They had found him each
time in his lair; but, on account of their poor weapons and slight skill
as hunters, he had always been enabled to escape from them. Indeed on
such occasions the tiger was sure to come off victorious, for it was in
one of these hunts that the man had fallen a sacrifice. Others of the
villagers had been wounded in the different conflicts with this pest of
the jungle. With such a neighbour at their doors no wonder they had
been living in a state of disquietude and terror.
But why their joy at the approach of our travellers?
This was proudly explained by Ossaroo, who of course had reason to be
proud of the circumstance.
It appeared that the fame of the shikarree, as a great tiger-hunter, had
preceded him, and his name was known even in the Terai. The villagers
had heard that he was approaching, accompanied by two Feringhees, (so
Europeans are called by the natives of India,) and they hoped, by the
aid of the noted shikarree and the Feringhee Sahibs, to get rid of the
dreaded marauder.
Ossaroo, thus appealed to, at once gave his promise to aid them. Of
course the botanist made no objection, and Caspar was delighted with the
idea. They were to remain all night at the village, since nothing could
be done before night. They might have got up a grand battue to beat the
jungle and attack the tiger in his lair, but what would have come of
that? Perhaps the loss of more lives. None of the villagers cared to
risk themselves in such a hunt, and that was not the way that Ossaroo
killed his tigers.
Karl and Caspar expected to see their companion once more try his
stratagem of the birdlime and the leaves; and such at first was his
intention. Upon inquiry, however, he found that no birdlime was to be
had. The villagers did not know how to prepare it, and there were no
fig-trees about the neighbourhood, nor holly, nor trees of any other
kind out of which it could properly be made.
What was Ossaroo to do under these circumstances? Must he abandon the
idea of destroying the man-eater, and leave the helpless villagers to
their fate? No. His hunter pride would not permit that. His name as a
great shikarree was at stake. Besides, his humanity was touched--for,
although but a poor Hindoo, he possessed the common feelings of our
nature. Karl and Caspar, moreover, had taken an interest in the thing,
and urged him to do his best, promising him all the assistance it was in
their power to give.
It was resolved, therefore, that, cost what it might, the tiger should
be destroyed.
Ossaroo had other resources besides the birdlime and the battue, and he
at once set to work to prepare his plan. He had an ample stock of
attendants, as the villagers worked eagerly and ran hither and thither
obedient to his nod. In front of the village there was a piece of open
ground. This was the scene of operations.
Ossaroo first commanded four large posts to be brought, and set in the
ground in a quadrangle of about eight feet in length and width. These
posts when sunk firmly in their place stood full eight feet in height,
and each had a fork at the top. On these forks four strong beams were
placed horizontally, and then firmly lashed with rawhide thongs. Deep
trenches were next dug from post to post, and in these were planted rows
of strong bamboos four inches apart from each other--the bamboos
themselves being about four inches in thickness. The earth was then
filled in, and trodden firmly, so as to render the uprights immovable.
A tier of similar bamboos was next laid horizontally upon the top, the
ends of which, interlocking with those that stood upright, held the
latter in their places. Both were securely lashed to the frame
timbers--that had been notched for the purpose--and to one another, and
then the structure was complete. It resembled an immense cage with
smooth yellow rods, each four inches in diameter. The door alone was
wanting, but it was not desirable to have a door. Although it was
intended for a "trap cage," the "bird" for which it had been constructed
was not to be admitted to the inside.
Ossaroo now called upon the villagers to provide him with a goat that
had lately had kids, and whose young were still living. This was easily
procured. Still another article he required, but both it and the goat
had been "bespoke" at an earlier hour of the day, and were waiting his
orders. This last was the skin of a buffalo, such a one as we have
already seen used by these people in crossing their rivers.
When all these things had been got ready it was near night, and no time
was lost in waiting. With the help of the villagers Ossaroo was
speedily arrayed in the skin of the buffalo, his arms and limbs taking
the place of the animal's legs, with the head and horns drawn over him
like a hood, so that his eyes were opposite the holes in the skin.
Thus metamorphosed, Ossaroo entered the bamboo cage, taking the goat
along with him. The stake, that had been kept out for the purpose of
admitting them within the enclosure, was now set into its place as
firmly as the others; and this done, the villagers, with Karl and
Caspar, retired to their houses, and left the shikarree and his goat to
themselves.
A stranger passing the spot would have had no other thoughts than that
the cage-like enclosure contained a buffalo and a goat. On closer
examination it might have been perceived that this buffalo held, grasped
firmly in its fore-hoofs, a strong bamboo spear; and that was all that
appeared odd about it--for it was lying down like any other buffalo,
with the goat standing beside it.
The sun had set, and night was now on. The villagers had put out their
lights, and, shut up within their houses, were waiting in breathless
expectation. Ossaroo, on his part, was equally anxious--not from the
fear of any danger, for he had secured himself against that. He was
only anxious for the approach of the man-eater, in order that he might
have the opportunity to exhibit the triumph of his hunter-skill.
He was not likely to be disappointed. The villagers had assured him
that the fierce brute was in the habit of paying them a nightly visit,
and prowling around the place for hours together. It was only when he
had succeeded in carrying off some of their cattle that he would be
absent for days--no doubt his hunger being for the time satiated; but as
he had not lately made a capture, they looked for a visit from him on
that very night.
If the tiger should come near the village, Ossaroo had no fear that he
could attract him to the spot. He had laid his decoy too well to fail
in this. The goat, deprived of her young, kept up an incessant
bleating, and the kids answered her from one of the houses of the
village. As the hunter knew from experience that the tiger has a
particular relish for goat-venison, he had no fear but that the voice of
the animal would attract him to the spot, provided he came near enough
to hear it. In this the villagers assured him he would not be
disappointed.
He _was not disappointed_; neither was he kept long in suspense. He had
not been more than half-an-hour in his buffalo disguise, before a loud
growling on the edge of the forest announced the approach of the dreaded
man-eater, and caused the goat to spring wildly about in the enclosure,
uttering at intervals the most piercing cries.
This was just what Ossaroo wanted. The tiger, hearing the voice of the
goat, needed no further invitation; but in a few moments was seen
trotting boldly up to the spot. There was no crouching on the part of
the terrible brute. He had been too long master there to fear anything
he might encounter, and he stood in need of a supper. The goat that he
had heard would be just the dish he should relish; and he had determined
on laying his claws upon her without more ado. In another moment he
stood within ten feet of the cage!
The odd-looking structure puzzled him, and he halted to survey it.
Fortunately there was a moon, and the light not only enabled the tiger
to see what the cage contained, but it also gave Ossaroo an opportunity
of watching all his movements.
"Of course," thought the tiger, "it's an enclosure some of these simple
villagers have put up to keep that goat and buffalo from straying off
into the woods; likely enough, too, to keep me from getting at them.
Well, they appear to have been very particular about the building of it.
We shall see if they have made the walls strong enough."
With these reflections he drew near, and rearing upward caught one of
the bamboos in his huge paw, and shook it with violence. The cane,
strong as a bar of iron, refused to yield even to the strength of a
tiger; and, on finding this, the fierce brute ran rapidly round the
enclosure, trying it at various places, and searching for an entrance.
There was no entrance, however; and on perceiving that there was none,
the tiger endeavoured to get at the goat by inserting his paws between
the bamboos. The goat, however, ran frightened and screaming to the
opposite side, and so kept out of the way. It would have served the
tiger equally well to have laid his claws upon the buffalo, but this
animal very prudently remained near the centre of the enclosure, and did
not appear to be so badly scared withal. No doubt the coolness of the
buffalo somewhat astonished the tiger, but in his endeavours to capture
the goat, he did not stop to show his surprise, but ran round and round,
now dashing forcibly against the bamboos, and now reaching his paws
between them as far as his fore-legs would stretch.