to get well. It's badly swollen, but the pain's not much. It's only a
sprain! Hurrah!--it's only a sprain! By thunder! I'll try to get the
gun."
With this resolve, Caspar raised himself to a standing attitude, holding
by the rocks on both sides.
The lane between them just gave him room enough to move his body along;
and the cleft being of a uniform width from side to side, he could get
out on either side he might choose.
But, strange to relate, the old bull, whenever he saw the hunter move
towards the opposite side, rushed round to the same, and stood prepared
to receive him upon his horns!
This piece of cunning, on the part of his antagonist, was quite
unexpected by Caspar. He had hoped he would be able to make a sally
from one side of the rock while his adversary guarded the other; but he
now saw that the animal was as cunning as himself. It was but a few
yards round from one side to the other, and it would be easy for the
bull to overtake him, if he only ventured six feet from the entrance.
He made one attempt as a sort of feint or trial; but was driven back
again into the crevice almost at the point of his antagonist's horns.
The result was, that the yak, now suspecting some design, watched his
victim more closely, never for a moment taking his eyes off him.
But withal Caspar had gained one advantage from the little sally he had
made. He had seen the gun where it lay, and had calculated the distance
it was off. Could he only obtain thirty seconds of time, he felt
certain he might secure the weapon; and his thoughts were now bent on
some plan to gain this time.
All at once a plan was suggested to him, and he resolved to make trial
of it.
The yak habitually stood with his head close up to the crevice--the
froth dropping from his mouth, his eyes rolling fiercely, and his head
lowered almost to the earth.
Caspar could have thrust his head with a spear--if he had been armed
with one--or he could even have belaboured it with a cudgel.
"Is there no way," thought he, "that I can blind the brute? Ha! By
thunder, I have it!" exclaimed he, hitting upon an idea that seemed to
promise the desired result.
As quick as thought he lifted over his head his powder-horn and belt;
and, then stripping off his jacket, took the latter in both hands, held
it spread out as wide as the space would permit. He now approached the
edge of the cleft in hopes of being able to fling the jacket over the
horns of the bull, and, by thus blinding him, get time to make a rush
for his gun. The idea was a good one; but, alas! it failed in the
execution. Caspar's arms were confined between the boulders, and he was
unable to fling the jacket adroitly. It readied the frontlet of the
bull; but the latter, with a disdainful toss of his head, flung it to
one side, and stood fronting his adversary, as watchful of his movements
as ever.
Caspar's heart sunk at the failure of his scheme, and he retreated
despairingly back into the cleft.
"I shall have to call Karl and Ossaroo in the end," thought he. "No!
not yet!--not yet! Another plan! I'll manage it yet, by thunder!"
What was Caspar's new plan? We shall soon see. He was not long in
putting it to the test. A youth quick in action was Caspar.
He seized his huge powder-horn, and took out the stopper. Once more he
crept forward towards the bull, and as near the snout of the latter as
it was safe for him to go. Holding the horn by its thick end, and
reaching far out, he poured upon the levellest and driest spot a large
quantity of powder; and, then drawing the horn gradually nearer, he laid
a train for several feet inward.
Little did the grunting yak know the surprise that awaited him.
Caspar now took out his flint, steel, and touch-paper, and in a moment
more struck a fire, and touched off the train.
As he had calculated, the exploding powder flashed outward and upward,
taking the bull by surprise with the sudden shock, at the same time that
it enveloped him in its thick sulphury smoke. The animal was heard
routing and plunging about, not knowing which way to run.
This was the moment for Caspar; who, having already prepared himself for
the rush, sprang suddenly forth, and ran towards his gun.
With eagerness he grasped the weapon; and, forgetting all about his
sprained ankle, ran back with the speed of a deer. Even then, he was
not a moment too soon in reaching his retreat; for the bull, having
recovered from his surprise, saw and pursued him, and once more sent his
horns crashing against the rocks.
"Now," said Caspar, addressing his fierce besieger, and speaking with a
confidence he had not hitherto felt, "that time you were more scared
than hurt; but the next time I burn powder, the case will be rather
different, I fancy. Stand where you are, old boy. Another minute allow
me! and I'll raise this siege, without giving you either terms or
quarter."
As Caspar continued to talk in this way, he busied himself in loading
his gun. He loaded both barrels--though one would have been sufficient;
for the first shot did the business clear as a whistle. It tumbled the
old bull off his legs, and put an end to his grunting at once and for
ever!
Caspar now came forth from the cleft; and, placing his fingers to his
lips, caused the valley to ring with his loud whistle. A similar
whistle came pealing back through the woods; and, in fifteen minutes'
time, Karl and Ossaroo were seen running forward to the spot; and soon
after had heard the particulars of Caspar's adventure, and were
congratulating him on his escape.
The yaks were skinned and quartered, and then carried home to the hut.
The young bull, that had been wounded, also turned up close at hand; and
was finished by the spear of Ossaroo. Of course, he too was skinned and
quartered, and carried home; but all this labour was performed by Karl
and Ossaroo; for Caspar's ankle had got so much worse, that he had
himself to be carried to the hut on the backs of Ossaroo and his
brother.
CHAPTER THIRTY NINE.
THE SEROW.
Karl and Ossaroo had their adventure, though it was not of so dangerous
a character as that of Caspar. They were spectators rather than actors
in it. Fritz was the real actor, and Fritz had come off only second
best, as a huge gash in his side testified.
They had chosen a pine, and were busy hacking away at it, when a
confused noise--a mixture of yelping and barking--fell upon their ears,
and caused them to hold their hands, and listen. It was a thin piece of
woods, where they were--composed principally of straggling pine-trees
without underwood, and they could see to a distance of several hundred
yards around them.
As they stood looking out, a large animal, evidently in flight, came
dashing past the spot. He did not appear to be a fast runner, and they
had a good view of him. He was nearly as large as a jackass, and had
something of the appearance of one, but a pair of stout horns, twelve
inches in length, and very sharp-pointed, showed that he was a
cloven-hoofed animal. His hair was coarse and rough; dark brown on the
upper part of his body, reddish on the sides, and whitish underneath.
Along the back of the neck he was maned like a jackass, and the neck
itself was thick with rather a large head to it. The horns curved
backwards so as to lie close along the neck; the legs of the animal were
thick and stout, and he appeared to be altogether a stupid creature, and
ran with a clumsy ungainly gait.
Neither Karl nor Ossaroo had ever seen such an animal before, but they
guessed it to be the "thar," or "serow,"--one of the tribe of antelopes,
known as the _goat-like_ antelopes,--of which there are several species
in the East Indies.
They guessed aright. It was the serow, (_Capricornis bubalina_).
But the creature was not alone. Although we have said he was not
running very swiftly, he was going as fast as his thick legs would carry
him. And he had good reason too, for, close upon his heels, came a pack
of what Karl supposed to be red wolves, but which Ossaroo recognised as
the wild dogs of India. There were about a dozen of these, each nearly
as large as a wolf, with long necks and bodies, somewhat long muzzles,
and high, erect, round-tipped ears. Their general colour was red,
turning to reddish white underneath. The tops of their long bushy tails
were black, and there was a brown patch between the orbits of their
eyes, which added to the fierce wolf-like expression that characterised
them. It was from them that the howling and yelping had proceeded.
They were in full cry after the serow.
Fritz, on hearing the music, would have bounded forth and joined them;
but to keep him out of harm's way, Karl had tied him to a tree before
commencing work, and Fritz, _nolens volens_, was compelled to keep his
place.
The chase swept by, and both dogs and antelope were soon lost to the
sight, though their howling could still be heard through the trees.
After a time it grew louder, and the wood-cutters, perceiving that the
chase was again coming in their direction, stood watching and listening.
A second time the serow appeared crossing the open tract, and the dogs,
as before, close at his heels.
Once more all disappeared, and then, after a short interval, "hark back"
was the cry; and, to their surprise, Karl and the shikarree again saw
the wild dogs pressing the serow through the woods.
Now it appeared to both that the dogs might easily have overtaken the
antelope at any moment; for they were close up to his heels, and a
single spring, which any of them might have given, would have launched
them upon its flanks. Indeed, it appeared as if they were running it
only for their amusement, and at any moment could have overtaken it!
This observation of our wood-cutters was partially true. The wild dogs
could at any moment have overtaken the antelope, for they had done so
already; having turned it more than once. But for all that, they were
not running it out of mere sport. They were thus chasing the _game_
back and forward in order _to guide it to their breeding-place, and save
themselves the trouble of carrying its carcass thither_! This was in
reality what the wild dogs were about, and this accounted for their odd
behaviour. Ossaroo, who knew the wild dogs well, assured the Sahib
Karl, that such is their practice, that--whenever they have young ones--
they hunt the larger animals from point to point until they get them
close to their common burrowing place; that then they all spring upon
the victim, and worry it to death, leaving the puppies to approach the
carcass and mangle it at their pleasure!
The plant-hunter had already heard of this singular practice having been
observed in the "wild honden," or hunting-dogs of the Cape, and was
therefore less surprised at Ossaroo's account.
Of course it was not then that Karl and Ossaroo conversed upon these
topics. They were too busy in watching the chase, which once more
passed within twenty yards of the spot where they were standing.
The serow seemed now to be quite done up, and it appeared as if his
pursuers might at any moment have pulled him down. But this they
evidently did not wish to do. They wanted to drive him a little
farther.
The creature, however, was not going to accommodate them. He had run
enough. A very large tree stood in his way. Its trunk was many feet in
diameter, and great broad buttresses stood out from its flanks,
enclosing angular spaces between them, any of which would have made a
stall for a horse. It was just the sort of place which the serow was
looking out for; and making a sharp rush for the tree, he entered one of
these divisions, and wheeling around, buttocks to the stump, stood
firmly to bay.
This sudden manoeuvre evidently disconcerted his fierce pursuers. There
were many of them that knew the serow well, and trembled at the sight of
his horns when brought too close to them. They knew his tactics too,
and were well aware that once in a position, like that he had now taken
up, he became a dangerous customer to deal with.
Knowing this, most of the old dogs held back. But there were several
young ones in the pack, rash, hot-blooded fellows, who, vain of their
prowess, were ashamed to hang their tails at this crisis; and these,
without more ado, rushed in upon the antelope. Then ensued a scene that
caused Ossaroo to clap his hands and shake his sides with laughter. A
desperate struggle was carried on. Right and left pitched the wild
dogs, some yelping, some skulking back, crippled and limping; while one
or two soon lay stretched out dead; transfixed as they had been by the
pointed horns of the antelope. Ossaroo enjoyed this scene, for the
shikarree had a great dislike to these wild dogs, as they had often
interfered with his stalking.
How the battle would have ended, or whether the bold buck would have
beaten off his numerous enemies will never be known; for while the
contest was raging, the great boar-hound, Fritz, contrived somehow or
other to slip his fastening, and the next moment he was seen rushing
like a streak of fire towards the _melee_. The wild dogs were as much
terrified by his sudden appearance in their midst as the quarry itself
could have been, and, without staying to examine the interloper, one and
all of them took to their heels, and soon disappeared behind the trees.
Fritz had never seen a serow before, but taking it for granted it was
fair game, he sprang at the creature on sight. Better for Fritz had it
been a Saxon boar, for it cost him several sharp rips, and a long
struggle before he became master of the field; and it is doubtful
whether he would not have suffered still worse, had not a pea of lead
from the rifle of his master aided in bringing the strife to an end.
The game, but for its hide, was hardly worth faking home; as the flesh
of the serow is very coarse, and poor eating. For all that, the animal
is eagerly hunted by the natives of the Himalayas; partly because it is
not difficult to come up with, and partly that these poor people are not
very epicurean in their appetites.
CHAPTER FORTY.
OSSAROO CHASED BY WILD DOGS.
If Ossaroo hated any living creature more than another, the wild dogs,
as already hinted at, were his particular aversion. They had often
spoiled a stalk upon him, when he was in the act of bringing down an
axis or an antelope with his arrows, and they themselves were not worth
bending a bow upon. Their flesh was not fit to be eaten, and their
skins were quite unsaleable. In fact, Ossaroo regarded them as no
better than filthy vermin, to be destroyed only for the sake of
exterminating them.
Hence it was that the shikarree was so delighted, when he saw the old
serow dealing death among his canine antagonists.
But it was written in the book of fate, that Ossaroo should not sleep
that night until he had done penance for this exultation.
Another adventure was in store for him, which we shall now relate.
From the place where the yaks had been killed to the hut was a very long
distance--full three quarters of a mile; and, of course, transporting
the skins and meat thither required Karl and Ossaroo to make many
journeys backward and forward. Caspar was laid up with his sprained
ankle, and could give them no assistance. As we have said, they had to
carry _him_ home as well as the meat.
The work occupied them all the rest of the day, and, when twilight
arrived, there was still one joint to be got home. For this joint
Ossaroo started alone, leaving the others at the hut to cook the supper.
On cutting up the meat, they had taken the precaution to hang the pieces
upon high branches, out of the reach of beasts of prey. Experience had
taught them, that there were many of these in the place, ravenous enough
to devour a whole carcass in a few minutes. What kind of wild beast had
carried off the flesh of the cow-yak, they knew not. Karl and Caspar
believed they were wolves, for the wolf, in some form or other, is found
in every quarter of the globe; and in India there are two or three
distinct species--as the "landgah," or Nepaul wolf, (_Canis pallipes_),
and the "beriah," another Indian wolf, of a yellow colour, slenderly
made, and about the size of a greyhound, with long, erect ears, like the
jackal. The jackal, too, which is only a smaller wolf, and the common
or brindled hyena, inhabit these countries; so that it was difficult to
say which of all these ravenous creatures had committed the depredation.
Ossaroo's opinion was, that it was done by _dogs_, not wolves; and,
perhaps, by the very pack that had that day been seen in pursuit of the
antelope. It made no great difference, as far as that went; for these
same wild dogs are in reality more wolf than dog, and in habits quite as
ferocious and destructive as the wolves themselves. But to return to
Ossaroo and his adventure.
When the shikarree arrived on the ground where the meat had been left,
he was not much surprised to see a number of wild dogs skulking about.
Half a dozen of them were standing under the joint, where it hung from
the branch; some of them in the act of springing upward, and all of them
regarding the tempting morsel with fierce, hungry looks. The offal and
"giblets" they had already disposed of, so that not the smallest
fragment could be seen lying about. What Ossaroo regretted most was,
that he had brought with him neither bow nor arrow nor spear, nor, in
short, any thing in the shape of a weapon. Even his long knife he had
left behind, in order that he might carry the large joint with greater
ease.
On seeing the hated dogs, however, he could not resist the temptation of
having a shy at them; and, gathering up a handful of bulky stones, he
rushed into their midst, and pelted at them right and left.
The dogs, startled by this sudden onslaught, took to their heels, but
Ossaroo could not help observing that they did not appear to be so badly
frightened; and, some of them that left the ground sulky and growling,
stopped at no great distance from the spot, and appeared half inclined
to come back again!
It was the first time in his life that Ossaroo felt something like fear
of the wild dogs. He had been in the habit of chasing them on sight,
and they had always scampered off at the sound of his voice. These,
however, seemed to be larger and fiercer than any he had before
encountered, and it was evident there was fight in them. It was nearly
dark, and at night such animals are much bolder than during the
daylight. Night is, in fact, their true time for rapine and desperate
deeds. Ossaroo reflected, moreover, that these dogs had, in all
probability, never before encountered man, and were, therefore, less
inclined to fear or flee from him.
It was not without some misgiving, therefore, that he found himself in
their presence, thus unarmed and alone.
When his armful of stones was exhausted, some of the dogs still remained
within sight, looking in the grey twilight much larger than they
actually were.
Ossaroo reflected for a moment whether he would gather some more rocks,
and give them a fresh pelting. On second thoughts, he concluded it
would be more prudent to let them alone. They were already almost at
bay, and any farther demonstration on his part might provoke them to
turn upon him in earnest. He determined, therefore, to leave them as
they stood, and hurry off with his load.
Without more ado, he took down the quarter of yak-beef, and, placing it
upon his shoulders, turned homeward toward the hut.
He had not gone very far when he began to suspect that the dogs were
after him. In fact, he more than suspected it, for the pattering of
feet upon the dead leaves, and an occasional low growl that reached his
ears, convinced him they _were_ after him. The heavy burden upon his
shoulders, pressing his head forward and downward, prevented him from
seeing either to one side or the other, and to look behind, it would be
necessary for him to turn quite round.
But the pattering of the feet sounded nearer, and the short half-bark,
half-growl, became more frequent, until Ossaroo found himself at length
constrained to turn, from sheer apprehension of being attacked in the
rear.
The sight that met his eyes was enough to have terrified the stoutest
heart. Instead of half a dozen of the wild dogs which he expected to
see following him, there were far above a score of them, and they
appealed to be of every age, sex, and size. In fact, all the dogs of
the valley were trooping at his heels, as if they had been all summoned
to join in the attack.
But the stout shikarree was not yet dismayed. He had been accustomed to
hold the wild dogs in too great contempt to be so easily frightened,
even by such numbers of them, and he resolved to make another attempt to
drive them off.
Leaning the beef, therefore, against a tree, he stooped down and groped
the ground, until he had again armed himself with pebbles as big as
paving-stones; and rushing some paces backward, he flung them with all
his might in the teeth of his tormentors. Several of the pebbles
happened to hit in the right place, and more than one of the dogs ran
howling away; but the fiercer and older ones scarce yielded their
ground, and only answered the assault by a fierce grinning and
jabbering, while their white teeth could be distinguished under the
moonlight set in angry menace.
Upon the whole, Ossaroo gained but little by this new demonstration; and
as he reshouldered his load, he saw the dogs gathering thick as ever
behind him.
Perhaps he would not have taken up his burden again, but an idea had
suddenly entered his mind; he had conceived a plan of getting rid of his
ugly followers.
He knew that he was near the edge of the lake. He remembered that
between him and the hut there lay a long reach of water, where the lake
ran up into a sort of branch or bay. He knew that this bay, even at its
neck, was quite shallow and fordable. He had, in fact, waded across it
that very day in order to shorten the path. He was just then within a
hundred yards of the fording-place; and if the dogs contemplated
attacking him, he would be able to reach the water before they were
likely to begin their attack. He would take to the water, and that
would throw them off. With all their fierceness, they surely would not
follow him into it?
Acting under this impression, he reshouldered his load and hurried
forward. He did not waste time to look about. He need not have looked
around to convince himself that he was still followed, for the thick
pattering of the feet, the snarling, and chattering, were behind him as
before. Every moment it sounded nearer and nearer, and at length when
Ossaroo arrived by the water's edge he fancied he could hear the
breathing of the brutes close to his very ankles.
He made no halt, but dashed at once into the lake, and plunged wildly
across. The noise made by himself in wading knee-deep prevented him
from hearing other sounds; and he did not look to see whether he was
followed until he had climbed out on the opposite shore of the bay.
Then he paused and turned around. To his chagrin the whole pack were in
the water, crossing like hounds after a stag! Already they were half
over. They had no doubt hesitated a moment before taking to the water,
and this gave Ossaroo some advantage, else they would have landed as
soon as he. As it was, they would soon take up the distance.
Ossaroo hesitated a moment as to whether he should abandon his burden,
and retreat towards the hut; but the thought of yielding to a pack of
wild dogs was too much for his hunter pride; and, wheeling suddenly into
the path, he hurried onward with his load. It was now but a short
distance to the hut. He had still hopes that he might reach it before
his pursuers would make up their minds to assail him.
On he hastened, making his limbs do their best. Once more came the
pattering feet; once more the growling, and yelping, and jibbering of
the wild dogs from behind; once more their hot breathing seemed to be
felt close to his heels; and then, all at once, the quarter of yak-beef
appeared to increase in weight, and grow heavier and heavier, until it
came suddenly to the ground, pulling Ossaroo upon his back. Several of
the ravenous brutes had seized upon and dragged both burden and bearer
to the earth!
But Ossaroo soon recovered his feet; and, seizing a large pole, that
fortunately lay near, commenced laying around him right and left, at the
same time making the woods echo with his yells.