_The Lame Tiger of Huldwani_
It was in the middle of May--just before the beginning of the lesser
rains--that Ram Deen and certain wayfarers sat round a handful of fire
at Lal Kooah from mere force of habit, for the heat of the evening was
great, and not a breath of air stirred in the jungle. The sal trees had
lost their leaves and looked like ghosts; the grass had been burnt in
all directions; and as the sun set in the copper sky, it lit up a
landscape that might have stood for the "abomination of desolation."
The dry chirping of the crickets, just beginning to tune their first
uneasy strains, accorded with the unholy scene. Even the horses waiting
for the mail-cart were imbued with the depressing influence of the
season, and hung their heads with a sense of despair, as though they
thought the blessed monsoon would never set in.
No one spoke, and the hookah passed from hand to hand in a dreary
silence. Suddenly, the attention of those assembled was attracted by the
curious action of a bya (tailor) bird in a neighboring mimosa tree. It
was calling frantically, and dropping lower from bough to bough, as
though against its will.
"Nag!" exclaimed the bunnia; and, directed by his remark, all eyes were
turned to the foot of the tree, where an enormous cobra with expanded
hood was swaying its head from side to side, and drawing the wretched
bird to its doom through the fascination of fear.
Ram Deen, whose sympathies were always with the weak and defenceless,
rose to his feet, and, throwing a dry clod of earth at the reptile,
drove the creature from the tree; whilst the bird, released from its
hypnotic influence, flew away.
"Brothers," said Ram Deen, "fear is the father of all sins, and the
cause of most calamities. He who feareth not death is a king in his own
right, and dieth but once; but a coward--shabash! who can count his
pangs?"
"Ho! ho!" chuckled the little bullock driver; "Ram Deen, The Fearless,
shall live to be an hundred years old."
"Nay, Goor Dutt," said Ram Deen, gravely regarding the little man, "I,
too, have known fear. No man may drive the mail to Kaladoongie without
looking on death."
Ram Deen smoked awhile in silence; and, when the expectation of his
listeners was wrought to a proper pitch, he went on: "Ye all knew
Nandha, the hostler, who used to go with me last year from this stage to
Kaladoongie?"
"Ay, coach-wan ji," responded the carrier for the others. "'Tis a great
telling, but not known to these honorable wayfarers who come from beyond
Moradabad."
"Brothers, ye saw the plight of the bya bird but now; so was it with
Nandha," said Ram Deen.
"One evening, ere the mail arrived, he called me to where he stood by
the kikar tree yonder, looking down at the ground. In the dust of the
road were large footprints.
"'These be the spoor of a tiger lame in its left hind foot,' I said to
Nandha; 'see, here it crouched on its belly, and wiped away the wheel
tracks made by the mail-cart this morning.'
"''Tis the lame tiger of Huldwani, coach-wan; he is old, and he hunteth
man. Gunga send he is hunting elsewhere to-night!' replied Nandha.
"When we came within a mile of the Bore bridge that night, the horses
stopped suddenly; they were wild with fear, and refused to move. The
night was as dark as the inside of a gourd, and beyond the circle of
light made by our lanterns we could discern in the middle of the road
two balls of fire close to the ground.
"'Bag! (tiger),' said Nandha, as he climbed over into the back seat; 'we
be dead men, Ram Deen.'
"'Blow!' I commanded, giving him the bugle; and as he startled the
jungle with a blast, I gathered up the reins, and, adding my voice to
the terrors of Nandha's music, I urged the horses with whip and yell to
fury of speed; and the light of the lanterns showed the great beast
leaping into the darkness to escape our onset.
"Nandha ceased not from blowing on the bugle till I took it from him by
force at the door of the post-office at Kaladoongie.
"They gave him bhang to smoke and arrack to drink ere he slept that
night, for his great fear had deprived him of reason for awhile; and he
looked round him as though he expected to see the tiger's eyes
everywhere.
"'The bag followed me to the hither side of the Bore bridge,' he said to
me next morning, as we prepared to return to Lai Kooah. But I laughed at
his fears, to give him courage.
"'It is a devil,' he whispered, looking cautiously round him, and I saw
that the light of his reason flickered.
"When we came to the Bore bridge, Nandha leaped to the ground, and in
the dim light of the morning I could see the tracks of a great beast on
the ground, to which he pointed; and, even as we looked, there came the
roar of a tiger. I could scarce hold the horses whilst Nandha, whose
limbs were stiff with fear, scrambled into the back seat of the
mail-cart.
"When a tiger puts its mouth to the ground and gives voice, no man may
tell whence the sound comes; so I stayed not to see, if I might, where
the danger lay, but gave the horses free rein.
"As we cleared the end of the bridge, Nandha screamed, 'Bag, bag!' and
glancing back, I saw the tiger in full pursuit of us, and within a
hundred paces.
"'Blow!' I commanded, handing the bugle to Nandha; but, though he took
it from me, he appeared not to understand what he was required to do.
"'Blow!' said I, once more, shaking him; but he took no heed of me, and
was as a man who walks in his sleep. So I put my arm round him and
lifted him on to the front seat beside me; and even as I pulled him to
me, his head was drawn over his shoulder by the spell of fear. There was
a foam on his lips and on his beard, and he shook so that I feared he
would fall off the mail-cart.
"'Be brave, Nandha,' I shouted to him, 'the beast is lame, and we shall
soon leave it behind.' For answer, he turned his face to me for one
instant, and his lips framed the word 'bag,' but no sound came
therefrom.
"Suddenly, he laughed like a child that is pleased with a toy, babbling,
and saying, 'How beautiful is my lord! Soft be the road to his feet!
But, look! my lord limpeth; belike he hath a thorn in his foot.' As he
rose, I put an arm round him and forced him down again; and at that
instant the tiger uttered another roar. The horses swerved, and would
have left the road in their fear, had I not put forth the full strength
of both my arms; and as soon as Nandha felt himself free, he leaped to
the ground, and advanced towards the tiger. He walked joyously, as a
loyal servant who goeth to meet his lord.
"Looking over my shoulder (for now the horses were in the middle of the
road, which here stretched straight ahead of us), I beheld Nandha
proceed towards the tiger, which now crouched in the road, waiting for
him, its tail waving from side to side. When he was within five paces
of the beast, he salaamed to the ground, and as he stooped the tiger
sprang on him with another roar, and throwing him over its shoulder it
bounded with him into the jungle.
"More there is to tell concerning the lame tiger of Huldwani, but here
is the mail-cart, and here is that which had saved Nandha's life had I
not also looked upon fear that morning."
Putting the bugle to his mouth, Ram Deen blew a blast that would have
routed any jungle creature within hearing, and which made the leaves of
the peepul tree overhead rattle as he dashed away on the mail-cart.