A Maharajah of Bengal who became a noted sportsman shot his first
tiger when he was quite a small boy. When about twelve years of
age he went out on a shoot one cold weather on his estate. He was
accompanied by some of his relatives, and they encamped in one of
the forest bungalows. This bungalow was just an ordinary Assam house
built on a chang or raised platform. It consisted of a large centre
room with a bedroom on either side and a deep verandah in the front,
where the servants slept at night. Under large trees, some little
distance away, the elephants were chained, and not far off were
stables for the horses.
The Maharajah shared his room with a friend, a lad about two years
older than himself. One night between ten and eleven o'clock, when
all were in bed and asleep after a tiring day and an early dinner,
the near roaring of a tiger awakened the camp. In a twinkling the
servants had transferred themselves and their bedding from the verandah
into the centre room and securely bolted the door. Roar after roar
sounded through the night, but the young Maharajah slept the healthful
and deep sleep of tired childhood and the mighty voice of the lord
of the jungle did not disturb him. His friend was awakened by the
majestic sound and lay trembling with fear; envying his blissfully
unconscious companion, until the nearness of the tiger broke down
his self-control and, vigorously shaking his bed-fellow, he shouted
in his ear: "Tiger, tiger!"
The young Maharajah awoke, yawned, stretched and listened. The roaring
had ceased but under the bungalow they could hear the purring of a
tiger as it rubbed itself against a post. The younger and fearless
boy laughed with glee and assured his friend that there was no danger
of the tiger getting into the bungalow, and that on the morrow they
would be easily able to track and shoot it. Soon the sounds of purring
and rubbing gave place to others, and the occupants of the bungalow
realised that more than one tiger played beneath them. Next day in
the jungle near the forest bungalow the party shot a couple of tigers,
a tigress and her cubs.
In later years the Maharajah became famous for his shoots and many and
varied were his adventures and experiences. One year he was in camp
with a large party and they were out one afternoon after buffaloes. A
fine bull was driven out of a patch of thick jungle and faced the guns
with defiance in his eyes. He was a grand target and the Maharajah's
finger ached to pull his trigger, but courtesy forbade him and he
generously, as always, left the fine prize for his guests. But, one
after another, each missed his shot and the noble bull charged past
into thicker jungle. As the line of guns attempted to follow, one
of them spied a leopard up on a tree looking thoroughly scared. This
animal had evidently been disturbed by the commotion in the forest and
had been so terrified that it had climbed into a tree for shelter; and
there, on a branch, poor "Spots" fell an easy prey to the sportsmen.
One of the strangest adventures that the Maharajah had was when,
returning to camp one evening, he was informed that one of his largest
and best elephants, "Kennedy", had got stuck in quicksand. In many
parts of Assam there are quicksands and quagmires. This particular one
chanced to be in a nala (stream). The elephant had refused to cross
the partially dried-up stream. Instinct had warned him through the
tip of his trunk that danger lurked there, but his mahout (driver),
anxious to get into camp after a hard day and knowing that across
this stream was a short cut, had forced him. They had advanced but
a yard or two when the huge animal began to sink, and the more he
struggled and strove to extricate himself the deeper he sank. The
Maharajah hastened to the spot as soon as he heard of the catastrophe,
for "Kennedy" was a fine and valuable elephant and a steady one for
shikar (shooting). At the sound of his master's voice poor "Kennedy"
looked towards the bank, and the Maharajah saw that great tears of
anguish were rolling down the poor beast's face as he bellowed in
an agony of fear. The Maharajah directed the men who had gathered
around the scene to fell some saplings, which were conveyed to the
nala by some smaller elephant and pushed into the quagmire towards
"Kennedy". The poor entrapped animal seemed to understand that efforts
were being made to rescue him, and he obeyed his driver's now soothing
voice and held himself still. At last, the combined labours of men
and brother-elephants provided a safe footing of submerged saplings
and branches; and "Kennedy" pulled himself out of the treacherous
sand and was escorted back to the camp with great rejoicings.
Not long after this "Kennedy" distinguished himself in another way,
but this time evoked the displeasure and not the pity of his good
master. An engineer, named Ashton, had charge of the feilkhana
(elephant stables) and had once severely punished "Kennedy". After
the manner of his kind, the elephant bore the memory of the outrage
in his heart and waited the opportunity to be revenged. One morning
the camp was astir for a shoot. The guests stood ready outside
their tents and the elephants were waiting to carry them into the
forest. Suddenly "Kennedy" charged at Ashton, who stood a little
apart from the group, and flinging him to the ground began to roll
him under his feet. The Maharajah, with wonderful presence of mind,
immediately ordered "Debraj", a larger and more powerful elephant than
"Kennedy" and his rival in the feilkhana, to the rescue. "Debraj's"
mahout ordered him to charge at "Kennedy", and, urged forward with
voice and prong; "Debraj" did so with a good will. When "Kennedy"
saw his ancient enemy charging at him, he forgot his grudge against
Ashton, and, considering that "he who fights and runs away lives to
fight another day", he bolted, with his trunk in the air. Ashton was
picked up from the dust very much shaken by his rolling and fright but,
to the astonishment of every one, in no way injured.
During one of his shooting expeditions, the Maharajah and his
companions decided one night that they would go out on foot at
the very break of dawn and see the animal world in the jungle; and
they were well rewarded for their adventurous spirit. In a glade
of the forest they had a magnificent sight of a large herd of bison
peacefully grazing in the dewy grass. They could hear tigers and bears
passing back through the jungles to their dens in the deeper forest,
and as the men stood there admiring the grand heads of the bison a
monstrous tiger passed along quite close to one of the party, the
Maharajah's brother-in-law. On the bank of a river they came upon
a nest of young pythons. The guests thought it was a curious mound;
but the Maharajah recognised the reared heads of the young snakes and
told his friends what the heap was. When they came closer, they could
see that the long slimy bodies were all twisted together; and with an
uncanny feeling, the sportsmen watched these serpents uncoil themselves
from each other and glide away and disappear through the grass.
Once, after a long and fruitless day in the jungles, the Maharajah
decided he would try his luck stalking some deer that he spied on the
opposite side of a narrow strip of jungle. He accordingly left his
elephant and began to creep through the long dry bramble-choked grass
with his rifle in his hand. As he pushed his way through the thick
jungle he fancied he heard an animal breathing and then something
crackled. Intent on the deer before him, he concluded that he had
broken a twig or a branch with the end of his rifle and pushed on. As
he emerged from the thicket on the opposite side from where he had
entered, he came face to face with a group of shepherds. They stared
at him in amazement and then, recognising him as their Maharajah, fell
at his feet in rapturous joy. Accustomed as he was to demonstrations
from his people, their abandon struck him as something unusual, and he
was about to question them when they exclamed: "Hoozoor, Dharmabatar,
(Your Honor, Royal Master,) how did you come in safety through that
jungle?" He smiled at their wonderment and was about to chide them
gently when they continued: "An immense tiger has just slain one of
our cows and dragged it into that very jungle from which Your Honor has
emerged." The Maharajah now understood that the sound he had heard as
he pushed his way through the jungle was the tiger enjoying a feed of
his kill, and he felt thankful that he had not stumbled directly upon
it. Like the keen sportsman he was, he signalled his elephant and,
mounting it, secured the feasting tiger with an easy shot.
One cold season, the Viceroy was enjoying a shoot on the Maharajah's
estates. One evening, as they were dressing for dinner, there came
through the stillness of the restful air the "twitter" of a tiger. Do
many of my readers know what the "twitter" of a tiger is? It is a sound
the Monarch of the Jungle makes and it is just like the twitter of a
bird;--in fact, some declare it is only the twitter of a bird. Well,
on this particular evening, the tiger must have been passing quite
close to the camp, for his "twitter" was clear and unmistakeable. The
Maharajah, with his usual courtesy, immediately bethought himself of
his guests, and invited Their Excellencies to come out into the open
and listen to the novel sound. They did, and very pleased and proud
they were when they heard the tiger's "twitter" clearly and distinctly
through the gathering shade and stillness of the darkening night.
The shooting camps were invariably pitched on the bank of a river or
stream. One evening, two of the servants crossed the shallow stream in
front of the camp to enjoy some fishing. They found a suitable place
behind a mound and here they sat quietly watching their lines. The
afternoon hours passed swiftly and the sun was nearing the horizon
when their attention was simultaneously drawn to a sound above their
heads. Looking up, to their horror, they saw an immense tiger just
above them. One of them shivered with terror and, clutching his
companion, said in a hoarse whisper: "Our hour has come." The other
whispered back: "Keep perfectly still and quiet." Breathless, the two
watched the huge tiger descend the bank and pass majestically to the
edge of the water where he stopped to quench his thirst. It seemed to
the two trembling men that it took the Lord of the Jungle fully half
an hour to drink his fill. Then, as slowly and impressively, the tiger
turned from the stream and ascended the bank. When he reached the top
he stood there, gazing before him either as if admiring the scenery
or contemplating a meal off one of the men. The pair scarcely dared to
breathe and wild schemes of taking to their heels to gain the centre of
the stream and swim down the river shot through their brains. At last
the tiger slowly turned away from the river and disappeared into the
forest. Then, after some time, the frightened servants hurried across
the stream back to camp, and told the Maharajah of their terrible
experience. The footprints of the animal corroborated their story
and their asseveration that they had seen a very very big tiger.
During one of the shoots, the shikaris (native sportsmen) brought news
that a rhino had been seen in a certain jungle. The guests were much
excited and a beat was organised for the next day. The morning dawned
and all set out and were soon posted to their various positions. The
front "stop" guns were on the bank of a river. The Maharajah was in
the beating line. When about half way through the piece of jungle
he noticed that one of his brother guns looked disappointed. He
accordingly asked "What's up?" The guest answered that he thought that
a large animal had broken back. However nothing was discovered and as
it was mid-day a halt for lunch was considered desirable. A spot was
soon selected and the signal given and the lines broke up. Just as
the foremost elephants were about to kneel to permit their riders to
dismount, there arose from the "stop" elephants a cry of "Tiger". In
the jungle, quite close to one of the "stop" guns, a tiger was enjoying
a feed of a wild pig; and as the elephant turned to join the others,
he almost trod on the tiger. In a moment the line was re-organised,
but the surprised tiger, finding itself surrounded by foes, turned
tail and ran down the bank of the river. The stream was nearly dry
and the bed was very shingly, and as the startled tiger picked its
way gingerly across the pebbles and pools of water it looked like a
stranded cat. It had not progressed very far when a well-directed shot
laid it low; and with this unexpected prize the party sat down to lunch
in excellent spirits. As rhino generally fight shy of elephants, they
did not think there was much use continuing the beat after lunch. So
they decided that they should make tracks for home and have general
shooting. General shooting means that there is no beating line. A
long straight line of march is formed, and each gun elephant is in
between the pad or beating elephants. The Maharajah was almost the
last gun in the line. Nearly all were out of the jungle when his keen
and practised eye noticed a small pad elephant jib at something as
they passed through a piece of jungle. "Did your elephant refuse to
come through?" he questioned the mahout of the small elephant. "Yes,
Maharajah, he smelt something in the jungle," the man replied. "Beat
this piece of jungle", the Maharajah quickly ordered the pad elephants
with him. They beat it and drove forth a rhino which fell dead to the
Maharajah's gun. Before His Highness had time to take up his other
rifle, a second galloped out of the jungle and charged straight at
the Maharajah's elephant. The elephant spun round to avoid the furious
onslaught and in the meantime the Maharajah managed to raise his gun
and, getting in his shot in spite of the gyrations of the elephant,
laid out rhino No. 2 in grand style to the applause of his companions.
Coming back to camp in the dusk one evening, the Maharajah, who had
wonderful eyesight, thought he saw a tiger lying still in an open
field. He raised his gun and whispered to his mahout. As they came
nearer, the tiger--for tiger it was--raised itself to its feet and
prepared to spring at the elephant. Too late! Snap went the Maharajah's
trigger and the royal beast lay dead.
These are but a few of the shooting adventures of a sportsman-Maharajah
who has gone on the long journey from life to the greater life beyond,
but whose memory lives in the annals of Bengal as a keen and successful
shot.