I dare say you have often seen Assam on the map, and have often tasted
Assam tea. The tea gardens are a very pretty sight at certain seasons of
the year. I would like to send you a photograph of my garden. From the
high ground near we can see the far-off Himalayas, with their snow-clad
summits gleaming brightly in the sun.
"Far off the old snows, ever new,
With silver edges cleft the blue--
Alone, aloft, divine."
But I am quite sure you won't care to hear about snowy mountain-tops,
and unspeakable sunsets, and other glories of the Himalayan Alps, but
boy-like will want to know if I have had any adventures since I came
out. This is a great country for wild beasts of all sorts. Not long ago
I was walking in the garden with a friend of mine; we were moving along
slowly and chatting, when suddenly my friend shouted out something which
I could not understand, and vanished like--a lamp-lighter. I looked
around to see if there was anything to account for such an unceremonious
leave-taking, when, turning the corner, I too was aware of two great
bears that barred the way. It was an awkward predicament, and I must
confess I was somewhat taken aback, and did not quite know what to do.
However, after a good stare, the bears relieved me of all further
anxiety by taking themselves quietly off.
Completely unarmed as I was, I was only too thankful to see them safely
off the premises.
The other day I had a still more unpleasant adventure; and this time, as
before, among the principal actors in the scene was an angry bear. I
went to see a friend of mine, a neighboring planter, who lived some
miles away. I had a friend staying with me; we went in a small
pony-cart; I drove, my friend sat alongside me, and behind was the syce,
or native groom. The first part of our return journey was accomplished
without any mishap. When, however, we came to the last part of the
journey--the last mile or so, I should say, was simply a roadway cut
through the jungle--we were surprised to hear a low grunting noise, and
a rustling in the ditch that ran alongside the road--a noise as of some
large beast forcing himself through the thick undergrowth.
We in front took but little notice of it, under the impression that it
was a pig or dog, or something of the kind. You can imagine my horror,
and amazement when I felt myself convulsively grasped by the syce, and
heard him whispering in agonized tones, "He'll have me off in a minute,
sahib, if you don't drive on quickly." Turning round as I best could
under the circumstances, I saw a huge bear lumbering along, now on his
hind-legs, now on all fours, every now and then making ineffectual
"scoops" at the frightened syce on the backseat with his ugly-looking
fore-paws.
With a smart cut across the back and a word of encouragement, I started
the pony off at his best pace. On he galloped, as fast as ever he could
lay his little legs to the ground; but Bruin was not to be denied, and
we could not, do what we would, shake him off.
It was a most exciting race. I had to keep cool, for on me, the driver,
all depended, and the least mistake on my part might have cost us our
lives.
After racing along for some distance in this way, with the bear now
alongside us, now close behind us, by some fortunate accident one of our
coats fell out on to the road. Bruin instantly halted to have a sniff,
but after a moment's pause he was under way again, and before long had
overhauled us. Once more "ding, dong, ding, dong, we galloped along,"
racing for very life. Every turn of the wheels was bringing us nearer
home, and if our pony could only last the distance, there was still a
good chance for us. As we thus raced along, with the bear hustling after
us, so close that we could hear his heavy breathing, my "solah topee"
(hat) fell off, and Bruin once more stopped to have a sniff.
All honor to that hat! Had its brim been less broad, the wind would not
have taken it off. Had the wind not taken it off, who can tell what our
fate would have been? The pony was nearly exhausted; his speed was
slackening, and in a moment the bear would have had us in his clutches.
But that moment's delay in Bruin's frantic chase saved us. Heavily I
plied the whip upon our unfortunate pony's back. A few leaps carried us
forward another hundred yards, and our bungalow came in sight. The bear
realized that he was beaten, and slunk off into the jungle, leaving us
to go home in peace. We were very thankful to get out of it so well.
When our friends were told that we had been chased by a bear they could
hardly believe it, but the story is true for all that. Three lives were
saved by the puff of wind that blew away my hat.