We start for a tiger hunt on the Nepaul frontier.--Indian scenery near
the border.--Lose our way.--Cold night.--The river by night.--Our boat
and boatmen.--Tigers calling on the bank.--An anxious moment.--Fire at
and wound the tigress.--Reach camp.--The Nepaulee's adventure with a
tiger.--The old Major.--His appearance and manners.--The pompous
Jemadar.--Nepaulese proverb.--Firing the jungle.--Start a tiger and
shoot him.--Another in front.--Appearance of the fires by night.--The
tiger escapes.--Too dark to follow up.--Coolie shot by mistake during
a former hunt.
Early in 1875 a military friend of mine was engaged in inspecting the
boundary pillars near my factory, between our territory and that of
Nepaul. Some of the pillars had been cut away by the river, and the
survey map required a little alteration in consequence. Our district
magistrate was in attendance, and sent me an invitation to go up and
spend a week with them in camp. I had no need to send on tents, as
they had every requisite for comfort. I sent off my bed and bedding on
Geerdharee Jha's old elephant, a timid, useless brute, fit neither far
beating jungle nor for carrying a howdah. My horse I sent on to the
ghat or crossing, some ten miles up the river, and after lunch I
started. It was a fine cool afternoon, and it was not long ere I
reached the neighbouring factory of Im[=a]mnugger. Here I had a little
refreshment with Old Tom, and after exchanging greetings, I resumed my
way over a part of the country with which I was totally unacquainted.
I rode on, past villages nestling in the mango groves, past huge
tanks, excavated by the busy labour of generations long since
departed; past decaying temples, overshadowed by mighty tamarind
trees, with the _peepul_ and _pakur_ insinuating their twining roots
amid the shattered and crumbling masonry. In one large village I
passed through the bustling bazaar, where the din, and dust, and
mingled odours, were almost overpowering. The country was now assuming
quite an undulating character. The banks of the creeks were steep and
rugged, and in some cases the water actually tumbled from rock to
rock, with a purling pleasant ripple and plash, a welcome sound to a
Scotch ear, and a pleasant surprise after the dull, dead, leaden,
noiseless flow of the streams further down on the plains.
Far in front lay the gloomy belt of Terai, or border forest, here
called the _morung_, where the British territories had their extreme
limit in that direction. Behind this belt, tier on tier, rose the
mighty ranges of the majestic Himalayas, towering up in solemn
grandeur from the bushy masses of forest-clad hills till their
snow-capped summits seemed to pierce the sky. The country was covered
by green crops, with here and there patches of dingy rice-stubble, and
an occasional stretch of dense grass jungle. Quail, partridge, and
plover rose from the ground in coveys, as my horse cantered through;
and an occasional peafowl or florican scudded across the track as I
ambled onward. I asked at a wretched little accumulation of weavers'
huts where the ghat was, and if my elephant had gone on. To both my
queries I received satisfactory replies, and as the day was now
drawing in, I pushed my nag into a sharp canter and hurried forward.
I soon perceived the bulky outline of my elephant ahead, and on coming
up, found that my men had come too far up the river, had missed the
ghat to which I had sent my spare horse, and were now making for
another ferry still higher up. My horse was jaded, so I got on the
elephant, and made one of the peons lead the horse behind. It was
rapidly getting dark, and the mahout, or elephant driver, a miserable
low caste stupid fellow, evidently knew nothing of the country, and
was going at random. I halted at the next village, got hold of the
chowkeydar, and by a promise of backsheesh, prevailed on him to
accompany us and show us the way. We turned off from the direct
northerly direction in which we had been going, and made straight for
the river, which we could see in the distance, looking chill and grey
in the fast fading twilight. We now got on the sandbanks, and had to
go cautiously for fear of quicksands. By the time we reached the ghat
it was quite dark and growing very cold.
We were quite close to the hills, a heavy dew was falling, and I found
that I should have to float down the liver for a mile, and then pole
up stream in another channel for two miles before I could reach camp.
I got my horse into the boat, ordering the elephant driver to travel
all night if he could, as I should expect my things to be at camp
early in the morning, and the boatmen pushed off the unwieldy
ferry-boat, floating us quietly down the rapid 'drumly' stream. All is
solemnly still and silent on an Indian river at night. The stream is
swift but noiseless. Vast plains and heaps of sand stretch for miles
on either bank. There are no villages near the stream. Faintly, far
away in the distance, you hear a few subdued sounds, the only
evidences of human habitation. There is the tinkle of a cow-bell, the
barking of a pariah dog, the monotonous dub-a-dub-dub of a
timber-toned tom-tom, muffled and slightly mellowed by the distance.
The faint, far cries, and occasional halloos of the herd-boys calling
to each other, gradually cease, but the monotonous dub-a-dub-dub
continues till far into the night.
It was now very cold, and I was glad to borrow a blanket from my peon.
At such a time the pipe is a great solace. It soothes the whole
system, and plunges one into an agreeable dreamy speculative mood,
through which all sorts of fantastic notions resolve. Fancies chase
each other quickly, and old memories rise, bitter or sweet, but all
tinged and tinted by the seductive influence of the magic weed. Hail,
blessed pipe! the invigorator of the weary, the uncomplaining faithful
friend, the consoler of sorrows, and the dispeller of care, the
much-prized companion of the solitary wayfarer!
Now a jackal utters a howl on the bank, as our boat shoots past, and
the diabolical noise is echoed from knoll to knoll, and from ridge to
ridge, as these incarnate devils of the night join in and prolong the
infernal chorus. An occasional splash, as a piece of the bank topples
over into the stream, rouses the cormorant and gull from their placid
dozing on the sandbanks. They squeak and gurgle out an unintelligible
protest, then cosily settle their heads again beneath the sheltering
wing, and sleep the slumber of the dreamless. A sharp sudden plump, or
a lazy surging sound, accompanied by a wheezy blowing sort of hiss,
tells us that a _seelun_ is disporting himself; or that a fat old
'porpus' is bearing his clumsy bulk through the rushing current.
The bank now looms out dark and mysterious, and as we turn the point
another long stretch of the river opens out, reflecting the merry
twinkle of the myriad stars, that glitter sharp and clear millions of
miles overhead. There is now a clattering of bamboo poles. With a
grunt of disgust, and a quick catching of the breath, as the cold
water rushes up against his thighs, one of the boatmen splashes
overboard, and they commence slowly and wearily pushing the boat up
stream. We touch the bank a dozen times. The current swoops down and
turns us round and round. The men have to put their shoulders under
the gunwale, and heave and strain with all their might. The long
bamboo poles are plunged into the dark depths of the river, and the
men puff, and grunt, and blow, as they bend almost to the bottom of
the boat while they push. It is a weary progress. We are dripping wet
with dew. Quite close on the bank we hear the hoarse wailing call of a
tigress. The call of the tiger comes echoing down between the banks.
The men cease poling. I peer forward into the obscurity. My syce pats,
and speaks soothingly to the trembling horse, while my peon with
excited fingers fumbles at the straps of my gun-case. For a moment all
is intensely still.
I whisper to the boatmen to push out a little into the stream. Again
the tigress calls, this time so close to us that we could almost fancy
we could feel her breath. My gun is ready. The syce holds the horse
firmly by the head, and as we leave the bank, we can distinctly see
the outline of some large animal, standing out a dark bulky mass
against the skyline. I take a steady aim and fire. A roar of
astonishment, wrath, and pain follows the report. The horse struggles
and snorts, the boatman calls out 'Oh, my father!' and ejaculates
'hi-hi-hi!' in tones of piled up anguish and apprehension, the peon
cries exultantly 'Wah wah! khodawund, lug, gea,' that bullet has told;
oh your highness! and while the boat rocks violently to and fro, I
abuse the boatmen, slang the syce, and rush to grasp a pole, while the
peon seizes another; for we are drifting rapidly down stream, and may
at any moment strike on a bank and topple over. We can hear by the
growling and commotion on the bank, that my bullet has indeed told,
and that something is hit. We soon get the frightened boatmen quieted
down, and after another hour's weary work we spy the white outline of
the tents above the bank. A lamp shines out a bright welcome; and
although it is nearly twelve at night, the Captain and the magistrate
are discussing hot toddy, and waiting my arrival. My spare horse had
come on from the ghat, the syce had told them I was coming, and they
had been indulging in all sorts of speculations over my non-arrival.
A good supper, and a reeking jorum, soon banished all recollections of
my weary journey, and men were ordered to go out at first break of
dawn, and see about the wounded tiger. In the morning I was gratified
beyond expression to find a fine tigress, measuring 8 feet 3 inches,
had been brought in, the result of my lucky night shot; the marks of a
large tiger were found about the spot, and we determined to beat up
for him, and if possible secure his skin, as we already had that of
his consort.
Captain S. had some work to finish, and my elephant and bearer had not
arrived, so our magistrate and myself walked down to the sandbanks,
and amused ourselves for an hour shooting sandpipers and plover; we
also shot a pair of mallard and a couple of teal, and then went back
to the tents, and were soon busily discussing a hunter's breakfast.
While at our meal, my elephant and things arrived, and just then also,
the 'Major Capt[=a]n,' or Nepaulese functionary, my old friend, came up
with eight elephants, and we hurried out to greet the fat,
merry-featured old man.
What a quaint, genial old customer he looked, as he bowed and salaamed
to us from his elevated seat, his face beaming, and his little
bead-like eyes twinkling with pleasure. He was full of an adventure he
had as he came along. After crossing a brawling mountain-torrent, some
miles from our camp, they entered some dense kair jungle. The kair is
I believe a species of mimosa; it is a hard wood, growing in a thick
scrubby form, with small pointed leaves, a yellowish sort of flower,
and sharp thorns studding its branches; it is a favourite resort for
pig, and although it is difficult to beat on account of the thorns,
tigers are not unfrequently found among the gloomy recesses of a good
kair scrub.
As they entered this jungle, some of the men were loitering behind.
When the elephants had passed about halfway through, the men came
rushing up pell mell, with consternation on their faces, reporting
that a huge tiger had sprung out on them, and carried off one of their
number. The Major and the elephants hurried back, and met the man
limping along, bleeding from several scratches, and with a nasty bite
in his shoulder, but otherwise more frightened than hurt. The tiger
had simply knocked him down, stood over him for a minute, seized him
by the shoulder, and then dashed on through the scrub, leaving him
behind half dead with pain and fear.
It was most amusing to hear the fat little Major relate the story. He
went through all the by-play incident to the piece, and as he got
excited, stood right up on his narrow pad. His gesticulations were
most vehement, and as the elephant was rather unsteady, and his
footing to say the least precarious, he seemed every moment as if he
must topple over. The old warrior, however, was equal to the occasion;
without for an instant abating the vigour of his narrative, he would
clutch at the greasy, matted locks of his mahout, and steady himself,
while he volubly described incident after incident. As he warmed with
his subject, and tried to shew us how the tiger must have pounced on
the man, he would let go and use his hands in illustration; the old
elephant would give another heave, and the fat little man would make
another frantic grab at the patient mahout's hair. The whole scene was
most comical, and we were in convulsions of laughter.
The news, however, foreboded ample sport; we now had certain _khubber_
of at least two tigers; we were soon under weigh; the wounded man had
been sent back to the Major's head-quarters on an elephant, and in
time recovered completely from his mauling. As we jogged along, we had
a most interesting talk with the Major Capt[=a]n. He was wonderfully
well informed, considering he had never been out of Nepaul. He knew all
about England, our army, our mode of government, our parliament, and
our Queen; whenever he alluded to Her Majesty he salaamed profoundly,
whether as a tribute of respect to her, or in compliment to us as loyal
subjects, we could not quite make out. He described to us the route
home by the Suez canal, and the fun of his talk was much heightened by
his applying the native names to everything; London was _Shuhur_, the
word meaning 'a city,' and he told us it was built on the _Tham[=a]ss
nuddee_, by which he meant the Thames river.
Our magistrate had a Jemadar of Peons with him, a sort of head man
among the servants. This man, abundantly bedecked with ear-rings,
finger-rings, and other ornaments, was a useless, bullying sort of
fellow; dressed to the full extent of Oriental foppishness, and
because he was the magistrate's servant, he thought himself entitled
to order the other servants about in the most lordly way. He was now
making himself peculiarly officious, shouting to the drivers to go
here and there, to do this and do that, and indulging in copious
torrents of abuse, without which it seems impossible for a native
subordinate to give directions on any subject. We were all rather
amused, and could not help bursting into laughter, as, inflated with a
sense of his own importance, he began abusing one of the native
drivers of the Nepaulee chief; this man did not submit tamely to his
insolence. To him the magistrate was nobody, and the pompous Jemadar a
perfect nonentity. He accordingly turned round and poured forth a
perfect flood of invective. Never was collapse more utter. The Jemadar
took a back seat at once, and no more that day did we hear his
melodious voice in tones of imperious command.
The old Major chuckled, and rubbed his fat little hands, and leaning
over to me said, 'at home a lion, but abroad a lamb,' for, surrounded
by his women at home, the man would twirl his moustaches, look fierce,
and fancy himself a very tiger; but, no sooner did he go abroad, and
mix with men as good, if not better than himself, than he was ready to
eat any amount of humble pie.
We determined first of all to beat for the tiger whose tracks had been
seen near where I had fired my lucky shot the preceding night. A
strong west wind was blowing, and dense clouds of sand were being
swept athwart our line, from the vast plains of fine white sand
bordering the river for miles. As we went along we fired the jungle in
our rear, and the strong wind carried the flames raging and roaring
through the dense jungle with amazing fury. One elephant got so
frightened at the noise behind him, that he fairly bolted for the
river, and could not be persuaded back into the line.
Disturbed by the fire, we saw numerous deer and pig, but being after
tiger we refrained from shooting at them. The Basinattea Tuppoo, which
was the scene of our present hunt, were famous jungles, and many a
tiger had been shot there by the Purneah Club in bygone days. The
annual ravages of the impetuous river, had however much changed the
face of the country; vast tracts of jungle had been obliterated by
deposits of sand from its annual incursions. Great skeletons of trees
stood everywhere, stretching out bare and unsightly branches, all
bending to the south, shewing the mighty power of the current, when it
made its annual progress of devastation over the surrounding country.
Now, however, it was like a thin streak of silver, flashing back the
fierce rays of the meridian sun. Through the blinding clouds of fine
white sand we could at times, during a temporary lull, see its ruined
surface. And we were glad when we came on the tracks of the tiger,
which led straight from the stream, in the direction of some thick
tree jungle at no great distance. We gladly turned our backs to the
furious clouds of dust and gusts of scorching wind, and led by a
Nepaulee tracker, were soon crashing heavily through the jungle.
When hunting with elephants, the Nepaulese beat in a dense line, the
heads of the elephants touching each other. In this manner we were now
proceeding, when S. called out, 'There goes the tiger.'
We looked up, and saw a very large tiger making off for a deep
watercourse, which ran through the jungle some 200 yards ahead of the
line. We hurried up as fast as we could, putting out a fast elephant
on either flank, to see that the cunning brute did not sneak either up
or down the nullah, under cover of the high banks. This, however, was
not his object. We saw him descend into the nullah, and almost
immediately top the further bank, and disappear into the jungle
beyond.
Pressing on at a rapid jolting trot, we dashed after him in hot
pursuit. The jungle seemed somewhat lighter on ahead. In the distance
we could see some dangurs at work breaking up land, and to the right
was a small collection of huts with a beautiful riband of green crops,
a perfect oasis in the wilderness of sand and parched up grass.
Forming into line we pressed on. The tiger was evidently lying up,
probably deterred from breaking across the open by the sight of the
dangurs at work. My heart was bounding with excitement. We were all
intensely eager, and thought no more of the hot wind and blinding
dust. Just then Captain S. saw the brute sneaking along to the left of
the line, trying to outflank us, and break back. He fired two shots
rapidly with his Express, and the second one, taking effect in the
neck of the tiger, bowled him over as he stood. He was a mangy-looking
brute, badly marked, and measured eight feet eleven inches. He did not
have a chance of charging, and probably had little heart for a fight.
We soon had him padded, and then proceeded straight north, to the
scene of the Major's encounter with the tiger in the morning. The
jungle was well trampled down; there were numerous streams and pools
of water, occasional clumps of bamboos, and abrupt ridgy undulations.
It was the very jungle for tiger, and elated by our success in having
bagged one already, we were all in high spirits. The line of fire we
could see far in the distance, sweeping on like the march of fate, and
we could have shot numerous deer, but reserved our fire for nobler
game. It was getting well on in the afternoon when we came up to the
kair jungle. We beat right up to where the man had been seized, and
could see the marks of the struggle distinctly enough. We beat right
through the jungle with no result, and as it was now getting rather
late, the old Major signified his desire to bid us good evening. As
this meant depriving us of eight elephants, we prevailed on him to try
one spare straggling corner that we had not gone through. He laughed
the idea to scorn of getting a tiger there, saying there was no cover.
One elephant, however, was sent while we were talking. Our elephants
were all standing in a group, and the mahout on his solitary elephant
was listlessly jogging on in a purposeless and desultory manner, when
we suddenly heard the elephant pipe out a shrill note of alarm, and
the mahout yelled 'Bagh! Bagh!' tiger! tiger! The Captain was again
the lucky man. The tiger, a much finer and stronger built animal than
the one we had already killed, was standing not eighty paces off,
shewing his teeth, his bristles erect, and evidently in a bad temper.
He had been crouching among some low bushes, and seeing the elephant
bearing directly down on him, he no doubt imagined his retreat had
been discovered. At all events there he was, and he presented a
splendid aim. He was a noble-looking specimen as he stood there grim
and defiant. Captain S. took aim, and lodged an Express bullet in his
chest. It made a fearful wound, and the ferocious brute writhed and
rolled about in agony. We quickly surrounded him, and a bullet behind
the ear from my No. 16 put an end to his misery.
The old Major now bade us good evening, and after padding the second
tiger, and much elated at our success, we began to beat homewards,
shooting at everything that rose before us. A couple of tremendous pig
got up before me, and dashed through a clear stream that was purling
peacefully in its pebbly bed. As the boar was rushing up the farther
bank, I deposited a pellet in his hind quarters. He gave an angry
grunt and tottered on, but presently pulled up, and seemed determined
to have some revenge for his hurt. As my elephant came up the bank,
the gallant boar tried to charge, but already wounded and weak from
loss of blood, he tottered and staggered about. My elephant would not
face him, so I gave him another shot behind the shoulder, and padded
him for the _moosahurs_ and sweepers in camp. Just then one of the
policemen started a young hog-deer, and several of the men got down
and tried to catch the little thing alive. They soon succeeded, and
the cries of the poor little _butcha_, that is 'young one,' were most
plaintive.
The wind had now subsided, there was a red angry glare, as the level
rays of the setting sun shimmered through the dense clouds of dust
that loaded the atmosphere. It was like the dull, red, coppery hue
which presages a storm. The vast morung jungle lay behind us, and
beyond that the swelling wooded hills, beginning to show dark and
indistinct against the gathering gloom. A long line of cattle were
wending their way homeward to the batan, and the tinkle of the big
copper bell fell pleasingly on our ears. In the distance, we could see
the white canvas of the tents gleaming in the rays of the setting sun.
A vast circular line of smouldering fire, flickering and flaring
fitfully, and surmounted by huge volumes of curling smoke, shewed the
remains of the fierce tornado of flame that had raged at noon, when we
lit the jungle. The jungle was very light, and much trodden down, our
three howdah elephants were not far apart, and we were chatting
cheerfully together and discussing the incidents of the day. My bearer
was sitting behind me in the back of the howdah, and I had taken out
my ball cartridge from my No. 12 breechloader, and had replaced them
with shot. Just then my mahout raised his hand, and in a hoarse
excited whisper called out,
'Look, sahib, a large tiger!'
'Where?' we all exclaimed, getting excited at once. He pointed in
front to a large object, looking for all the world like a huge dun
cow.
'Why, you fool, that is a bullock.' I exclaimed.
My bearer, who had also been intently gazing, now said.
'No, sahib! that is a tiger, and a large one.'
At that moment, it turned partly round, and I at once saw that the men
were right, and that it was a veritable tiger, and seemingly a monster
in size. I at once called to Captain S. and the magistrate, who had by
this time fallen a little behind.
'Look out, you fellows! here's a tiger in front.'
At first they thought I was joking, but a glance confirmed the truth
of what I had said. When I first saw the brute, he was evidently
sneaking after the cattle, and was about sixty paces from me. He was
so intent on watching the herd, that he had not noticed our approach.
He was now, however, evidently alarmed and making off. By the time I
called out, he must have been over eighty yards away. I had my No. 12
in my hand, loaded with shot; it was no use; I put it down and took up
my No. 16; this occupied a few seconds; I fired both barrels; the
first bullet was in excellent line but rather short, the second went
over the animal's back, and neither touched him. It made him, however,
quicken his retreat, and when Captain S. fired, he must have been
fully one hundred and fifty yards away; as it was now somewhat dusky,
he also missed. He fired another long shot with his rifle, but missed
again. Oh that unlucky change of cartridges in my No. 12! But for
that--but there--we are always wise after the event. We never expected
to see a tiger in such open country, especially as we had been over
the same ground before, firing pretty often as we came along.
We followed up of course, but it was now fast getting dark, and though
we beat about for some time, we could not get another glimpse of the
tiger. He was seemingly a very large male, dark-coloured, and in
splendid condition. We must have got him, had it been earlier, as he
could not have gone far forward, for the lines of fire were beyond
him, and we had him between the fire and the elephants. We got home
about 6.30, rather disappointed at missing such a glorious prize, so
true is it that a sportsman's soul is never satisfied. But we had rare
and most unlooked-for luck, and we felt considerably better after a
good dinner, and indulged in hopes of getting the big fellow next
morning.
In the same jungles, some years ago, a very sad accident occurred. A
party were out tiger-shooting, and during one of the beats, a cowherd
hearing the noise of the advancing elephants, crouched behind a bush,
and covered himself with his blanket. At a distance he looked exactly
like a pig, and one of the shooters mistook him for one. He fired, and
hit the poor herd in the hip. As soon as the mistake was perceived,
everything was done for the poor fellow. His wound was dressed as well
as they could do it, and he was sent off to the doctor in a dhoolie, a
a sort of covered litter, slung on a pole and carried on men's shoulders.
It was too late, the poor coolie died on the road, from shock and loss
of blood. Such mistakes occur very seldom, and this was such a natural
one, that no one could blame the unfortunate sportsman, and certainly
no one felt keener regret than he did. The coolie's family was amply
provided for, which was all that remained to be done.
This is the only instance I know, where fatal results have followed
such an accident. I have known several cases of beaters peppered with
shot, generally from their own carelessness, and disregard of orders,
but a salve in the shape of a few rupees has generally proved the most
effective ointment. I have known some rascals say, they were sorry
they had not been lucky enough to be wounded, as they considered a
punctured cuticle nothing to set against the magnificent douceur of
four or five rupees. One impetuous scamp, being told not to go in
front of the line during a beat near Burgamma, replied to the warning
caution of his jemadar,
'Oh never mind, if get shot I will get backsheesh.'
Whether this was a compliment to the efficacy of our treatment (by the
silver ointment), or to the inaccuracy and harmlessness of our shooting,
I leave the reader to judge.
Our bag during this lucky day, including the tigress killed by my shot
on the river bank, was as follows: three tigers, one boar, four deer,
including the young one taken alive, eight sandpipers, nine plovers,
two mallards, and two teal.