SPORT.
In Burmah the Tiger story takes the place occupied by the fish story in
this country, and is stamped, I suspect, with the same unblushing
characteristics. Judging from the tiger stories I heard, I could come to
no other conclusion than that the Anglo-Indian is possessed of amazing
nerve and ingenuity (qualities useful to him alike in the exploit and in
the telling of it), and I heard him with ever increasing interest and
wonder. The tiger is the favourite theme, though he is but of small
account whose chronicle does not also embrace some experiences in the
pursuit of the elephant, the bear and other fearful wildfowl indigenous
to the country.
Most men own to being a little chary about elephant hunting I found,
but our friend the Policeman appeared to have shot them like snipe. At
first I was rather inclined to make light of elephant shooting, they are
such exceedingly large animals that I thought even I could hardly fail
to bag one if I got him broadside on; but the Policeman set me right on
that point.
From his explanation, I gathered that the elephant is invulnerable save
only in one vital part, a spot behind the ear, and the sportsman
(according to my narrator) must be as dead on that spot as "Homocea."
My informant also told me terrible stories of how the elephant will turn
on his pursuer and trample on him, or tear him in pieces with his tusks,
and he gave me further such blood-curdling descriptions of the
terrifying noise made by an approaching herd of elephants crashing
through the jungle, and trumpeting in their rage, that I felt devoutly
thankful that I was visiting this particular district. The wild
elephants of the neighbouring jungle, in their almost human
intelligence, recognised the danger to themselves of conduct other than
the most retiring and unprovocative character in a locality where the
peace was preserved by such an ever threatening Nemesis as our
Policeman.
Bears, too, our Policeman had frequently hunted, and many a hair-breadth
escape had he effected by running up hill (bears cannot run up hill, you
know), or swinging from tree to tree and performing other acrobatic
feats which the bear was too heavy to attempt with success.
On one occasion, he said he had been overtaken by the bear, and his left
arm chawed in fourteen places (I forget why the bear couldn't be content
with one spot and how he protected himself from the animal's further
attentions); but he didn't mind the bear so much as the well meant
efforts of his companion, who, the hero of the episode complained, stood
afar off and poured in a devastating fire, directed in a distracted and
indiscriminate manner at him and the bear alike. Many and varied indeed
were the dangers through which this seemingly fearless hunter had passed
unscathed.
Several tigers visited the neighbourhood during my visit, and caused
great excitement among the men at the Club, who thought nothing of
sitting up all night in an uncomfortable tree, over an unsightly "kill,"
in hope of compassing the animal's undoing.
Often, alas! they were doomed to disappointment. On one occasion when my
brother and a friend were awaiting a tiger's approach, a mist gathered
round them, effectually obscuring everything from their sight. So there
they were, obliged, perforce, to sit in darkness, not daring to descend,
and of course unable to see, and cheered by listening to the tiger
comfortably devouring its prey, within a few yards of their ambush. The
Engineer, when he heard this story was for patenting an electric flash
light, which could be turned on to light the Sportsman when the tiger
was comfortably settled down to his meal, but this original suggestion
was ungratefully rejected, much to his disappointment.
But one afternoon the Thugyi brought in word that a large tiger had been
marked down in the neighbouring jungle, and a beat was arranged for the
following day. Then it was that the Policeman earned our undying
gratitude by proposing that we ladies, who had been behaving of late in
an exemplary manner, should, for once, be allowed to accompany the
Sportsmen, to see the great sight of our lives, a tiger shoot.
I doubt whether the suggestion met with the entire approbation of the
other males, but as the Policeman was organising the beat, and as we all
promised to be very good and obedient, they agreed reluctantly to take
us. Women, perhaps naturally, are considered very much "de trop" on
these occasions. A tiger shoot is a serious, sometimes a dangerous
business, and female frivolities and nerves would decidedly be
embarrassments.
I heard a story of a girl, reputed to be a great Sportswoman and a good
shot, who accompanied her male friends upon one of these expeditions.
Platforms had been built for the Sportsmen in the trees in the line of
the beat, and she shared one with a man who was more accustomed to
shooting and hunting than to the society of the other sex, whom he held
in much greater awe than any wild animal, however dangerous. When the
tiger made its appearance, the girl promptly fainted, and her poor
companion spent a most unhappy ten minutes between the unconscious girl
and the enraged tiger, being far more alarmed at the former.
However, to return to my story, when we had given assurances that we
never fainted, nor had hysterics, nor grew tired; and had promised
faithfully not to move a muscle, not to speak a single word, not to
disobey an order, and above all not to want to shoot, the men folk
graciously allowed us to accompany them; but it was not to create a
precedent.
How excited we were and how nervous! A seat in a tree did not appear to
me to offer much security against the tiger's attack, however high it
might be. Tigers, I had always been told, are near relations to cats,
and I knew cats climb trees. When I nervously breathed these doubts to
the Policeman, he solemnly assured me that tigers will not climb, and by
standing on their hind legs can only reach up about fourteen feet; but
this did not convince me, for had I not seen in my nursery days (and
early impressions are lasting ones) brilliantly coloured pictures of
tiger shoots wherein the tiger was invariably depicted, leaping into the
air, or climbing fiercely up the side of an elephant, while the nervous
occupant of the howdah peered cautiously over the edge? Was I to ignore
the lessons of my youth? I can only explain this inconsistency by
suggesting that tigers may have changed their habits with the advance of
civilization.
Nothing was talked of that evening but tigers and tiger shooting. The
Policeman and other local sportsmen were in great request, and their
stories were listened to with an interest and belief which I should
think quite astonished them. Even to the village did the excitement
spread, for the love of sport is as prevalent among the Burmans as among
Englishmen; and the natives are well paid for serving as beaters.
Early in the morning the hunting party assembled in our compound, and,
after partaking of a cheery "chota hazri," we set out, a merry cavalcade
consisting of seven men, and three women, and accompanied by a
miscellaneous collection of servants and native "shikarries."
It was one of those fresh, cool, delicious mornings that make one feel
inclined to sing with Pippa:
"The morning's at seven, The hillside's dew pearled."
"God's in His Heaven, all's well with the World."
In spite of qualms regarding the ordeal before us, we enjoyed that early
ride, and were a very happy, hungry crew when we arrived at the jungle
village whither breakfast had already been despatched. We found
everything ready, prepared by the Club Khansamah, and his staff of
silent, well-trained loogalays, and we breakfasted in the "hpoongyi
kyaung" itself, surrounded by images of Gaudama, by sacred pictures and
bells; shaded by lovely groups of bamboos, and watched from afar by an
interested crowd of young Burmans, whose shaven heads and yellow robes
showed them to be the hpoongyi's pupils.
[Illustration: A HPOONGYI KYAUNG MONASTERY]
But we were not allowed to linger too long in idleness, discussing the
merits of "the chicken and ham, the muffin and toast, and the strawberry
jam," to say nothing of luscious pineapples, incomparable bananas
(differing as much from the banana we meet in England, as chalk from
cheese), the much vaunted mangostines, the objectionable (from my way of
thinking) custard apple, and the hundred, other delicacies which our
generous hosts had provided for our delectation. I had scarcely
exchanged three words with the pineapples, and had only a bowing
acquaintance with the plum cake, when the doughty Policeman gave the
word to start.
It was really extraordinary how the presence of danger and
responsibility affected the bearing of our Policeman. The change came on
quite suddenly, in the middle of breakfast, and was maintained till
evening. He was transformed from a jovial, talkative personage, to one
sombre and morose, refusing to utter a word more than was absolutely
necessary, greeting all observations with a discouraging frown or a
shake of the head, and, in all his movements and actions displaying the
impressive characteristics of "Hawkeye," and other Indian Hunter friends
of one's youth. We ladies were immensely impressed, and did our best to
imitate his severe expression and noiseless, stalking gait, as closely
as possible. Perhaps we presented rather a weird appearance, stealing
along with harassed, stern set faces, and cautious steps, like stage
pirates, but concluding that it was the proper rôle to adopt on such an
occasion we adopted it.
Outside the kyaung we met the beaters; a picturesque group in their
bright coloured dresses, armed with sticks, cans, whistles, and
everything sufficiently noisy to rouse "Shere Khan" from his noonday
sleep. These beaters were despatched, under the direction of a native
"shikarrie," to commence their work about half-a-mile to the westward,
while we went to take up our position to the east of the rumoured
position of the tiger.
By this time the sun was up, and it was becoming very hot. For about
half an hour we stole along in single file through the jungle. Half the
men went before us to part the tangled bushes, the remainder brought up
the rear, lest one of us should be lost; a possible and very unpleasant
prospect in jungle so thick that it is impossible to see a yard around.
We were very silent, partly from excitement, partly because silence was
advisable; for who could tell what sleeping inhabitant of the jungle we
might pass within a few yards.
At last our leader judged that we had penetrated far enough; he halted
the party, and assigned to each gun its position. We ladies were each
confided to the care of a good shot, and repaired with our respective
protectors to the trees appointed for us by our leader. After some
original research into the difficulties of tree climbing (especially
tree climbing when the tree has no branches within five or six feet of
the ground), and the unpleasant sensation of missing one's footing and
slithering down the trunk,--I at length, with the aid of much pulling,
pushing, and other forcible assistance from my companion, attained my
perch, and my protector climbed to a position in a tree close to mine.
We had no platform to sit upon, but perched on the most convenient
branches available. A branch of a tree is not the most comfortable seat
in the world, and before the day was over I had ceased to envy "the
birds of the air, who make their habitations among the branches."
After all the sportsmen were settled in their relative positions, about
a hundred yards apart, a weary time of waiting ensued. No one spoke.
Everywhere around us were the mysterious humming, rustling sounds of the
jungle, and far away to the westward we heard the faint noise of
shouting and belaboured "tom-toms," which told us that the beaters had
commenced their work. The strain of excitement was terrible.
I measured the distance between my feet and the ground, and calculated
that, my tree not being very high, the tiger would experience little
difficulty in reaching me. I mechanically drew up my feet, and tightened
my hold on my sun umbrella; I remembered my board ship companions had
assured me that poking an animal in the eye is very effective, but I
didn't feel much confidence in this advice. Nor did I feel much
confidence in my oft-tried, and much vaunted presence of mind; absence
of body would have comforted me more. I peered up among the branches,
and decided where I would place my feet if a sudden flight to higher
regions should be necessary. Then I came to the conclusion that I didn't
like tiger shooting at all.
I glanced at my protector; he looked cool and alert. He was one of those
men who appear absolutely uninterested in all that is going on until the
supreme moment arrives, when they wake up suddenly and distinguish
themselves, after which they relapse again into their former
indifference. I regained my courage at sight of his coolness, and
listened.
Intense stillness around and behind us; even the jungle had ceased to
whisper. Everything seemed waiting in eager expectancy. But, before us,
drawing ever nearer and nearer, were the beaters, rattling sticks and
cans, whistling, shouting, and playing on "tom-toms," while between them
and us, aroused from its heavy sleep, slinking away from the noise and
disturbance was----what? The possibilities of a jungle drive are
endless. Suddenly the high grass beneath my tree parted, "Now for it," I
think. But no! it is only a gyee, hurrying away with scared eyes from
the unknown danger behind. It may escape to-day; its enemy, man, is
after bigger game.
Ever nearer drew the beaters. "Will it never end?" I whisper. But what
was that? A loud report close to my ear; something flashes past in the
grass below, there is a loud roar of pain and fury, and then "all is
over except the shouting."
For a few moments we waited in astonishment that it is all over so
quickly, and in doubt if the animal be really dead. Then everyone
tumbled simultaneously from their perches and hurried to the spot.
There lay the tiger, quite dead, but looking so lifelike that while I
put my hand in his mouth or felt his cruel claws, I was conscious of a
half fear lest he should be only shamming, and should come to life again
with a sudden spring. The beautiful skin was uninjured, save where the
bullet had entered the spine, and as we looked at him, the very emblem
of strength and beauty lying there, slain without even a fight for life,
I think we all felt a little pity.
But pity soon gave way to triumph. The beaters arrived and crowded round
the tiger, laughing and chattering; mocking the animal which had held
them in such terror while he lived, and trying to steal his whiskers,
which the Burmans value as charms.
But we soon found we were hot, thirsty, and tired, so we set out on our
return journey to Remyo, the beaters carrying our victim in triumph
fastened on a long bamboo. News of our success had preceded us, and as
we approached the village we were met by an immense crowd of admiring
natives, in that condition of giggling and jabbering excitement to which
only a crowd composed largely of Madrassees can attain. So persistent
were the attacks made upon the tiger's whiskers, that it became
necessary at last to tie his head up in a bag, and in that undignified
condition he was borne home and deposited safely in the club compound,
where during the day, he was visited and admired by every inhabitant of
the station.
Thus ended my first and only tiger shoot. How I wish I could electrify
my readers with descriptions of expeditions wherein I myself would
appear as the heroine, shooting tigers, and performing other moving
exploits by flood and field. But it may not be. The eager search after
truth which has been so noticeable lately among the British public,
restrains such interesting flights of fancy, and in these days,
romancers who would display their quality to an appreciative audience,
must address themselves to the Marines, or to the British Association.
There is endless variety of game in the neighbourhood of Remyo. Snipe
are almost as common as sparrows at home; partridges, peacocks, jungle
fowl, gyee, and hares all abound, and many an enjoyable shooting
expedition is undertaken, sometimes with, sometimes without the excuse
of "business" in the district.
Well provided with ammunition, food, drink, rugs, and bedding, the
Anglo-Indian sets out for two or three days sport, wandering from place
to place, sleeping in the open sided "zayats," near the hpoongyi
kyaungs, and spending the day in the jungle, in eager search after the
Englishman's great desire "something to kill."
Some of the native "shikarries" who accompany these expeditions are
splendid men. They are very silent, very uninterested in, even
contemptuous of, things not connected with sport, but devoted to their
profession, and as keenly excited, as delighted at success, or
disappointed at failure, as any good sportsman all the world over; and
possessing moreover a knowledge of the habits and customs of the jungle
folk scarcely surpassed by "Mowgli" himself.
A form of sport much indulged in by the Shan chiefs in the past, but
which has been strenuously discouraged was "Collecting Heads." The last
exponent of the game dwelt in the hills on the Shan State border, and
was the hereditary leader of a large tribe of men as fierce and savage
as himself. He was an ancient chief, proud of his race, his power, and
position; proud too of his home, and above all proud of his wonderful
bodily strength. Many and marvellous are the stories told of his
extraordinary doings. On one occasion, unarmed, he fought and killed a
tiger, clinging to its throat until he throttled it. He bore the marks
of the contest, huge scars upon his head, and throat, and chest, until
his dying day.
It was his custom (as doubtless it had been the custom of his ancestors,
and of many of their neighbours) to descend periodically from his
mountain heights alone and spend a few weeks in the neighbouring
plains, engaged in his favourite hobby of collecting heads. He was not
particular what heads he collected, but he preferred human ones when he
could get them. He would remain in the plains for a while, way-laying,
hunting, and slaying as many of his fellow creatures as he could meet
with (occasionally perhaps varying the sport by killing a tiger) and at
last when he grew for the nonce weary of this amusement, he would return
in triumph to his tribe, and display to their admiring gaze his ghastly
spoils.
The placid native suffered his hostile inroads with that fatalism with
which they regard all misfortune. But one day the Chief made a slight
mistake by adding to his collection the head of an Englishman (who was
no doubt poaching in the Chief's country) and for this departure from
the accepted rules of the game, he paid penalty.
A detachment of soldiers was despatched, who soon scattered the tribe
and captured the offender. I met the subaltern who had been in charge of
the escort, which brought him down to the plains, and he described to
me the desperate efforts the fierce old man made to escape. He was bound
hand and foot, watched night and day by four men, and his bonds were
inspected every hour; on one of these inspections it was discovered that
the ropes were frayed and gnawed half away. But his efforts were of no
avail; though he had the strength of a giant he could do nothing against
such overpowering odds.
When at length they reached the plains, he turned to have a last look at
the vanishing shadows of the hills, which no doubt he had loved with
that silent, passionate love felt for their home by the inhabitants of
all mountainous countries, and after a final desperate effort to kill
himself, he suddenly seemed to relinquish all hope, and resigned himself
stolidly to his fate.
His defiance and strength seemed to pass away with that last sight of
his beloved hills, and a broken-spirited, weak, helpless, old man was
all that remained. They brought him to Rangoon and banished his old,
worn-out body to the Andaman Islands, but his proud, fierce spirit fled
back with that last look at the hills, and haunts the wild regions where
he loved to roam.
[Illustration: Decoration]