paces out upon the meadow, and commenced browsing upon the grass. The
little fawn knew not, as yet, how to eat grass; and occupied itself by
skipping and playing about its mother, like a kid.
The hunters, all speaking in whispers, now counselled among themselves
as to what they should do. Ossaroo would have liked a bit of venison
for supper, and, certainly, the fawn was a tempting _morceau_. Caspar
voted to kill; but Karl, of gentler nature, opposed this design.
"A pity!" he said. "Look, brother, how gentle they appear? Remember
how we felt after killing the savage bear, and this would be far worse."
While engaged in this undertone discussion, a new party made his
appearance upon the scene, which drove all thoughts of killing the deer
out of the minds both of Caspar and Ossaroo.
This intruder was an animal quite as large as the axis, but of an
entirely different form. Its ground-colour was not unlike that of the
deer, with a deeper tinge of yellow, and it, too, was spotted all over
the body. Herein, however, a striking contrast existed between the two.
As already stated, the spots upon the axis were snow-white; while those
upon the new comer were just the reverse--black as jet. Spots they
could hardly be termed, though, at a distance, they presented that
appearance. When closely viewed, however, it would have been seen that
they were rather rosettes, or rings; the centre part being of the same
yellowish ground-colour as the rest of the body.
The animal had a stout, low body; short, but strong limbs; a long,
tapering tail, and a cat-like head. The last is not to be wondered at,
since it was in reality a cat. It was the _panther_.
The attention of the hunters was at once taken away from the axis, and
became fixed on the great spotted cat, which all three knew to be a
panther; next to the lion and tiger, the most formidable of Asiatic
_felida_.
All knew that the Indian panther often attacks man; and it was,
therefore, with no very comfortable feelings that they hailed his
appearance. The boys grasped their guns more firmly, and Ossaroo his
bow, ready to give the panther the volley, should he approach within
range.
The latter, however, had no design of molesting the travellers. He was
unaware of their presence. His whole attention was occupied with the
axis; upon whose ribs, or, perhaps, those of the fawn, he intended to
make his supper.
With crouching gait and silent tread he approached his intended victims,
stealing along the edge of the jungle. In a few seconds, he was near
enough to spring, and, as yet, the poor doe browsed unconsciously. He
was just setting his paws for the leap, and, in all probability, would
have pounced next moment upon the back of the deer, but, just in the
nick of time, Caspar chanced to sneeze. It was not done designedly, or
with, any intention of warning the deer; for all three of the hunters
were so absorbed in watching the manoeuvres of the panther, that they
never thought of such a thing. Perhaps the powerful odour of the
magnolia blossoms had been the cause; but, whether or no, Caspar
sneezed.
That sneeze was a good thing. It saved the tender mother and her gentle
fawn from the fangs of the ferocious panther. She heard it, and,
raising her head on the instant, glanced round. The crouching cat came
under her eyes; and, without losing a second of time, she sprang up to
the fawn, seized the astonished little creature in her mouth, and,
bounding like an arrow across the glade, was soon out of sight, having
disappeared into the jungle on the opposite side!
The panther, who had either not heard or not regarded the sneeze, sprang
out, as he had intended, but missed his aim. He ran a few stretches,
rose into the air, and, a second time, came down without touching the
deer; and then, seeing that the latter had sped beyond his reach,
according to the usual habit of all the _felidae_, he desisted from
farther pursuit. Trotting back whence he had come, he entered the
jungle before the hunters could get within shooting distance of him, and
was never more seen by any of the three.
As they returned to camp, Karl congratulated Caspar for having sneezed
so opportunely; though Caspar acknowledged that it was quite accidental,
and that, for his part, he would rather he had not sneezed at all, and
that he had either got a shot at the panther, or had a bit of the fawn
for his supper.
CHAPTER NINETEEN.
THE PESTS OF THE TROPICS.
Much has been said and written in praise of the bright sun and the blue
skies of tropical countries; and travellers have dilated largely upon
the magnificent fruits, flowers, and foliage of tropical forests. One
who has never visited these southern climes is disposed to indulge in
very fanciful dreams of enjoyment there. Life would seem to be
luxurious; every scene appears to be _couleur de rose_.
But Nature has not designed that any portion of her territory should be
favoured beyond the rest to such an extreme degree; and, perhaps, if a
just comparison were instituted, it would be found that the Esquimaux,
shivering in his hut of snow, enjoys as much personal happiness as the
swarth southerner, who swings in his hammock under the shade of a banyan
or a palm-tree.
The clime of the torrid zone, with its luxuriant vegetation, is also
prolific of insect and reptile life; and, from this very circumstance,
the denizen of a hot country is often subject to a greater amount of
personal discomfort than the dweller in the Arctic zone. Even the
scarcity of vegetable food, and the bitter, biting frost, are far easier
to endure than the plague of tipulary insects and reptiles, which swarm
between Cancer and Capricorn.
It is a well-known fact, that there are large districts in tropical
America where human life is scarce endurable, on account of the
mosquitos, gnats, ants, and other insects.
Thus writes the great Prussian geognosist:--
"Persons who have not navigated the rivers of equinoctial America can
scarcely conceive how, at every instant, without intermission, you may
be tormented by insects flying in the air, and how the multitudes of
these little animals may render vast regions almost uninhabitable.
Whatever fortitude be exercised to endure pain without complaint,
whatever interest may be felt in the objects of scientific research, it
is impossible not to be constantly disturbed by the mosquitos, zancudos,
jejens, and tempraneros, that cover the face and hands, pierce the
clothes with their long, needle-formed suckers; and, getting into the
mouth and nostrils, occasion coughing and sneezing, whenever any attempt
is made to speak in the open air.
"In the missions of the Orinoco, in the villages on the banks of the
river, surrounded by immense forests, the _plaga de las moscas_, or
plague of the mosquitos, affords an inexhaustible subject of
conversation. When two persons meet in the morning, the first questions
they address to each other are: `How did you find the zancudos during
the night?' `How are we to-day for the mosquitos?'
"An atmosphere filled with venomous insects always appears to be more
heated than it is in reality. We were horribly tormented in the day by
mosquitos and the jejen (a small venomous fly), and at night by the
zancudos, a large species of gnat, dreaded even by the natives.
"At different hours of the day you are stung by different species.
Every time that the scene changes, and, to use the simple expression of
the missionaries, other insects `mount guard,' you have a few minutes--
often a quarter of an hour, of repose. The insects that disappear have
not their places instantly supplied by their successors. From half-past
six in the morning till live in the afternoon the air is filled with
mosquitos. An hour before sunset a species of small gnats--called
tempraneros, because they appear also at sunrise--take the place of the
mosquitos. Their presence scarcely lasts an hour and a half. They
disappear between six and seven in the evening. After a few minutes'
repose, you feel yourself stung by zancudos, another species of gnat,
with very long legs. The zancudo, the proboscis of which contains a
sharp-pointed sucker, causes the most acute pain, and a swelling that
remains several weeks.
"The means that are employed to escape from these little plagues are
very extraordinary. At Maypures the Indians quit the village at night
to go and sleep on the little islets in the midst of the cataracts.
There they enjoy some rest, the mosquitos appearing to shun air loaded
with vapours.
"Between the little harbour of Higuerote and the mouth of the Rio Unare
the wretched inhabitants are accustomed to stretch themselves on the
ground, and pass the night buried in the sand three or four inches deep,
leaving out the head only, which they cover with a handkerchief.
"At Mandanaca we found an old missionary, who told us with an air of
sadness that he had had his `twenty years of mosquitos' in America. He
desired us to look at his legs, that we might be able to tell one day
beyond sea `what the poor monks suffer in the forests of Cassiquiare.'
Every sting leaving a small darkish brown spot, his legs were so
speckled that it was difficult to recognise the whiteness of his skin,
through the spots of coagulated blood!"
Just such torments as the great Prussian traveller suffered from insects
in the forests of South America, our plant-hunters had to endure while
passing through the humid woods of the Lower Himalayas. By night and by
day the air seemed filled with insects, in countless swarms,--large and
small moths, cockchafers, glow-flies, cockroaches, winged ants,
may-flies, flying earwigs, beetles, and "daddy longlegs." They
experienced the bite of ants or the stings of mosquitoes every moment,
or they were attacked by large ticks, a species of which infests the
bamboo, and which is one of the most hateful of insects. These the
traveller cannot avoid coming in contact with while brushing through the
forest. They get inside his dress, often in great numbers, and insert
their proboscis deeply, but without pain. Buried head and shoulders,
and retained by its barbed lancet, this tick can only be extracted with
great force, and the operation is exceedingly painful.
But of the tortures to which they were subjected by insects and
reptiles, there was one more disagreeable and disgusting than all the
rest, and on their first experience of it the three were quite
horrified.
It happened to them on the very day after their adventure with the bear
and the bees. They had walked several miles for their morning stage,
and the sun having grown quite hot, they agreed to rest for some hours
till afternoon. Having thrown off their packs and accoutrements, all
three lay down upon the grass close by the edge of a little stream, and
under the shadow of a spreading tree. The fatigue of the walk, combined
with the heated atmosphere, had rendered them drowsy, and one and all of
them fell fast asleep.
Caspar was the first to awake. He did not feel quite comfortable during
his sleep. The mosquitos or some other kind of insects appeared to be
biting him, and this had prevented him from sleeping soundly. He awoke
at length and sat upright. The others were still asleep close by, and
the eyes of Caspar by chance rested upon Ossaroo, whose body was more
than half naked, the slight cotton tunic having fallen aside and exposed
his breast to view; besides, his legs were bare, as the shikarree had
rolled up his trousers on account of the damp grass they had been
passing through. What was the astonishment of Caspar at perceiving the
naked part of Ossaroo's body mottled with spots of dark and red--the
latter being evidently blotches of blood! Caspar perceived that some of
the dark spots were in motion, now lengthening out, and then closing up
again into a smaller compass; and it was only after he had drawn closer,
and examined these objects more minutely that he was able to determine
what they were. They were _leeches! Ossaroo was covered with leeches_!
Caspar uttered a cry that awoke both of his companions on the instant.
Ossaroo was not a little disgusted with the fix he found himself in, but
Karl and Caspar did not waste much time in condoling with him, for upon
examination they found that they themselves had fared no better, both of
them being literally covered with the same bloodthirsty reptiles.
A scene now ensued that would not be easy to describe. All three pulled
off their garments, and went to work to extract the leeches with their
fingers--for there was no other mode of getting rid of the troublesome
intruders--and after a full half-hour spent in picking one another
clean, they rapidly dressed again, and took the route, desirous of
getting away from that spot as quickly as possible.
Of all the pests of warm Oriental climates, there are none so
troublesome to the traveller, or so disgusting, as these land-leeches.
They infest the humid woods on the slopes of the Himalaya Mountains from
about two thousand to eleven thousand feet of elevation; but they are
not confined to the Himalayas alone, as they are common in the mountain
forests of Ceylon, Sumatra, and other parts of the Indies. There are
many species of them--and even upon the Himalayas more than one kind--
the small black species swarming above the elevation of three thousand
feet, while a large yellow kind, more solitary, is found farther down.
They are not only troublesome and annoying, but dangerous. They often
crawl into the fauces, noses, and stomachs of human beings, where they
produce dreadful sufferings and even death. Cattle are subject to their
attacks; and hundreds perish in this way--the cause of their death not
being always understood, and usually attributed to some species of
vermin.
It is almost impossible to keep them off the person while travelling
through a track of woods infested by them. If the traveller only sit
down for a moment, they crawl upon him without being perceived. They
are exceedingly active, and move with surprising rapidity. Indeed, some
fancy they have the power to spring from the ground. Certain it is that
they possess the powers of contraction and extension to a very great
degree. When fully extended they appear as thin as a thread, and the
next moment they can clue themselves up like a pea. This power enables
them to pass rapidly from point to point, and also to penetrate into the
smallest aperture. They are said to possess an acute sense of smell,
and guided by this they approach the traveller the moment he sits down.
They will crowd up from all quarters, until fifty or a hundred crawl
upon one person in a few minutes' time, so that one is kept busy in
removing them as fast as they appear.
They occur in greatest numbers in moist shady woods, and cover the
leaves when heavy dew is on them. In rain they are more numerous than
at other times, and then they infest the paths; whereas in dry weather
they betake themselves into the streams, or the thickly-shaded interior
of the jungle.
Those who know not their haunts, their love of blood, their keenness and
immense numbers, cannot understand the disgust and annoyance experienced
from them by travellers. They get into the hair, hang by the eyelids,
crawl up the legs, or down the back, and fasten themselves under the
instep of the foot; and if not removed, gorge themselves with blood till
they roll off. Often the traveller finds his boots filled with these
hideous creatures when arrived at the end of his day's journey. Their
wound at the time produces no pain, but it causes a sore afterwards,
which is frequently months in healing, and leaves a scar that remains
for years!
Many antidotes are adopted, and tobacco-juice or snuff will keep them
off when applied over the skin; but in passing through moist woods and
the long wet jungle-grass, such applications require to be continually
renewed, and it becomes so troublesome and vexatious to take these
precautions, that most travellers prefer wearing long boots, tucking in
their trousers, and then keeping a good lookout for these insidious
crawlers.
CHAPTER TWENTY.
THE MUSK-DEER.
A few days' more journeying up the mountains brought our travellers to
the limits of the forest. They once more looked upon the snowy peaks of
the great central chain towering up into the clouds. I say once more--
for they had already seen these peaks from the plains of India while
still more than a hundred miles distant from them; but, as they
approached nearer, and while advancing through the foot-hills, the
snow-covered mountains had no longer been in sight!
This may appear a puzzle, but it is very easily explained. When very
near to a house you will be unable to see the steeple of a church that
is behind it; whereas by going to a greater distance from the house, the
higher steeple comes at once before your eyes.
So is it with mountains. From a great distance their highest peaks are
those that may be seen, but as you draw nearer, their lower range, or
foot-hills, subtend the angle of vision; and it is only after having
passed through, or over these, that you again behold the more elevated
summits.
Our travellers were now in sight of the snowy summits of the Himalayas,
several of which rose to the stupendous height of five miles above the
level of the sea--one or two even exceeding this elevation.
Of course it was not the design of the plant-hunters to attempt to climb
to the tops of any of these gigantic mountains. That they well knew
would not be possible, as it is almost certain that at such an elevation
a human being could not live. Karl, however, was determined to proceed
as far as vegetation extended; for he believed that many rare and choice
plants might be found even as high as the snow-line; and indeed there
are several species of beautiful rhododendrons, and junipers, and pines,
which grow only in what may be termed the "Arctic zone" of the
Himalayas.
With this idea, then, the travellers kept on--each day getting higher,
and farther into the heart of the great chain.
For two or three days they had been climbing through wild desolate
valleys, quite without inhabitants; yet they were able to find plenty of
food, as in these valleys there were animals of various kinds, and with
their guns they had no difficulty in procuring a supply of meat. They
found the "talin," a species of wild goat, the male of which often
attains to the weight of three hundred pounds, and a fine species of
deer known in the Himalayas as the "serow." They also shot one or two
wild sheep, known by the name of "burrell," and an antelope called
"gooral," which is the "chamois" of the Indian Alps.
It may be as well here to remark, that in the vast extended chain of the
Himalayas, as well as throughout the high mountain steppes of Asia,
there exist wild sheep and wild goats, as well as deer and antelopes, of
a great many species that have never been described by naturalists.
Indeed, but little more is known of them than what has been obtained
from the notes of a few enterprising English sportsmen. It would be
safe to conjecture that there are in Asia a dozen species of wild sheep,
and quite as many belonging to the goat-tribe; and when that continent
shall be thoroughly explored by scientific travellers, a very large
addition will be made to the catalogue of ruminant animals. Nearly
every extensive valley or chain of the Asiatic mountains possesses some
species of the sheep or goat-tribe peculiar to itself, and differing
from all others of the same genus; and in ascending the stupendous
heights of the Himalayas you find that every stage of elevation has its
peculiar species. Some dwell in dense forests, others in those that are
thin and open. Some prefer the grassy slopes, while others affect the
barren ridges of rock. There are those that are found only upon the
very limits of vegetation, spending most of their lives within the
region of eternal snow. Among these are the famed ibex and the large
wild sheep known as the _Ovis ammon_.
There was none of the Himalayan animals that interested our travellers
more than the curious little creature known as the "musk-deer." This is
the animal from which the famous scent is obtained; and which is
consequently a much persecuted creature. It dwells in the Himalayan
Mountains, ranging from an elevation of about eight thousand feet to the
limits of perpetual snow, and is an object of the chase to the hunters
of these regions, who make their living by collecting the musk and
disposing of it to the merchants of the plains. The animal itself is a
small creature, less in size than our fallow-deer, and of a speckled
brownish grey colour, darker on the hind-quarters. Its head is small,
its ears long and upright, and it is without horns.
A peculiarity exists in the males which renders them easy to be
distinguished from other animals of the deer kind. They have a pair of
tusks in the upper jaw projecting downwards, each full three inches in
length, and about as thick as a goose's quill. These give to the animal
altogether a peculiar appearance. The males only yield the musk, which
is found in grains, or little pellets, inside a sac or pod in the skin,
situated near the navel; but what produces this singular substance, or
what purpose it serves in the economy of the animal, it is not easy to
say. It has proved its worst foe. But for the musk this harmless
little deer would be comparatively a worthless object of the chase; but
as it is, the valuable commodity has created for it a host of enemies,
who follow no other occupation but that of hunting it to the death.
The plant-hunters had several times seen musk-deer as they journeyed up
the mountain; but as the animal is exceedingly shy, and one of the
swiftest of the deer kind, they had not succeeded in getting a shot.
They were all the more anxious to procure one, from the very difficulty
which they had met with in doing so.
One day as they were proceeding up a very wild ravine, among some
stunted juniper and rhododendron bushes, they started from his lair one
of the largest musk-deer they had yet seen. As he kept directly on, and
did not seem to run very fast, they determined to pursue him. Fritz,
therefore, was put upon his trail, and the others followed as fast as
they were able to get over the rough ground.
They had not gone far, when the baying of the dog told them that the
chase had forsaken the ravine in which they had first started it, and
had taken into a lateral valley.
On arriving at the mouth of this last, they perceived that it was filled
by a glacier. This did not surprise them, as they had already seen
several glaciers in the mountain valleys, and they were every hour
getting farther within the region of these icy phenomena.
A sloping path enabled them to reach the top of the glacier, and they
now perceived the tracks of the deer. Some snow had fallen and still
lay unmelted upon the icy surface, and in this the foot-prints of the
animal were quite distinct, Fritz had stopped at the end of the glacier,
as if to await further instructions; but without hesitation the hunters
climbed up on the ice, and followed the trail.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.
THE GLACIER.
For more than a mile they toiled up the sloping glacier which all the
way lay between two vertical cliffs.
That the musk-deer was still in advance of them, they had evidence from
the imprint of its tracks. Even without this evidence they could not
doubt that the game was still before them. It would have been
impossible for it to have scaled the cliffs on either side, so far as
they had yet seen them; and as far before them as they could see, both
sides appeared equally steep and impracticable.
As the hunters advanced, the cliffs gradually converged; and at the
distance of a few hundred yards before them, appeared to close in--as if
the ravine ended there, and there was no outlet in that direction. In
fact they appeared to be approaching the apex of a very acute angle, the
sides of which were formed by the black granite cliffs.
This singular formation was just what the hunters desired. If the
valley ended in a _cul-de-sac_, then the game would be hemmed in by
their approach, and they might have a chance of obtaining a shot.