Bengal Dacoits and Tigers Part 5

Gupta realised what had happened. He lay back sick with horror, and felt as if he were the guilty one. For many a day the old man's dying wail rang in his ears.

Through the Roof

They were laying the railway through the Hazaribagh district, and in a low-roofed bungalow at Giridih lived the Engineer in charge of the work. He was a young Englishman and his only recreation in this dreary place was riding and shooting.

The coolies lived in frail little mat houses in the same enclosure as his bungalow. One morning they came to him in a body to tell him that during the night a tiger had carried off one of their cows. The next morning another cow was missing, and on the third his servants awakened him with the news that his Arab pony was gone.

He loved the little animal. Many a mile had he scoured on its back. "Stripes" must be punished for this. He would sit up the coming night and watch.

Babus, servants and coolies loudly approved. What was life worth with such nightly happenings? and the lord of the jungle would surely come again. Had he not discovered a well-filled larder?

Work over, the young man loaded his gun, and after dinner took up his position and awaited the enemy. A reliable servant sat up with him.

The bungalow was raised on piles a few feet from the ground. It had brick walls but a thatched roof which sloped very low down on all sides. The wooden windows were closed. Our friend sat at one of them with the Venetians slightly stretched. The bungalow was dark and still.

At last a strange odour filled the air and then the heavy breathing of the tiger was audible. It came and stood just outside the window. The young fellow noiselessly pointed his gun through the Venetians and fired. An angry growl told that the tiger was wounded. Then it charged forward with a furious roar. The Englishman fired again and this time thought he had finished it. But the animal charged again with increased rage. After several attempts at the window it leapt for the roof and succeeded in clutching the eaves and scrambled up. The terrified servant cried: "Saheb, come into another room".

"Don't be a fool!" shouted his master, "the tiger can't come through the roof."

In their huts the poor coolies heard the shots and the terrible roars and growls and dared not come to their master's a.s.sistance. The tiger tore and scratched the thatch with all his might and soon made a hole. "Look! Saheb!" screamed the servant, "he comes through".

"I have a loaded gun in my hand", the Saheb replied.

The hole speedily grew larger as the great cat clawed and growled. The servant could stand it no longer. He bolted into the next room, shutting the door between. There he s.h.i.+vered and shook till morning, when he fled to the railway station a couple of miles away and told the Sahibs there his tale. They got guns and horses and rode over. They peered through the shutters and saw the tiger in the room. It soon scented them and charged with a mighty roar. They retreated without dignity to a safe distance where all stopped. One said, "I say! we must see what has happened to the poor chap". Another: "So many of us and loaded guns! We must do something". A third: "let's get back and kill the beast".

They went back and fired shot after shot through the shutters till the animal was killed. Then they broke into the room and found their luckless comrade dead on the floor, his loaded gun still in his hand. The tiger must have killed him with a slap of its mighty paw, and sat on his body all night, but clearly the animal was not a man-eater.

Earning the Reward

A man-eating tiger was roaming through Hazaribagh station. It had killed many villagers and had become so daring that it entered the market-place in broad day-light.

A poor old tailor on his way home one evening was seized by the blood-thirsty animal, and his screams for help filled the little town. The morning light showed traces of the struggle between man and beast, and where the latter had been dragged from the main road.

The villagers did puja that night that all might be saved from a like fate. A few days after, a ploughman and a little boy stood talking about the tiger. "How do you know that he won't catch you?" asked the boy.

The ploughman answered confidently: "I have done puja". Barely had the words pa.s.sed his lips than the tiger leapt upon him. The boy was startled, but not realising his own danger not only did he not run but also caught up a stick and tried to save his friend. In spite of his. .h.i.tting it the animal began to devour the unfortunate man, snarling threateningly the while. Then the boy threw away the stick and fled to the village. The news roused the villagers and they determined to try to rid themselves of their foe. Armed with spears, sticks and heavy bamboos they followed the boy to the scene of the tragedy. But the tiger was gone.

The Government had offered a handsome reward to any one who would succeed in killing this tiger and now a poor shop-keeper determined to win it. He knew nothing of shooting but worked up the ambition of a friend who could shoot and had a couple of guns. Together they essayed the difficult job. Difficult it was. The tiger seldom returned to his kill, nor stopped at a kill any length of time, and was known to have killed three or four victims in one day.

However they hoped for success. The villagers had been very careful of late and the tiger had consequently been obliged to go hungry. It was just possible he might return to the kill. So they got permission for a mangled body to be left there, and built a machan near it. At sunset they took up their places and watched.

At first the pair felt cheerful. A brilliant moon illuminated the whole country making everything as clear as day. But no tiger came. And later, as the hours dragged on, their cramped position, the nearness of a dead body, the silence and mystery of the night, all got on their nerves, and they wished they had not attempted such a task. But to leave now would be dangerous. So they did their best to encourage each other and waited on.

In the small hours of the night they distinctly heard the tiger coming and saw a huge black shadow moving stealthily towards their tree. The animal looked enormous in the uncertain light and each thought the machan too low and wished himself in his house in the village. Neither dared to speak or move.

Not far from the machan was a hillock. The tiger, after stalking round the tree, went to the corpse, smelled it, and then crossing to the hillock climbed up and sat himself there. The men felt sure he could now see them.

The tiger began to sniff as if he scented them. Then it yawned and snarled. The men sat fascinated. Presently the great head turned towards them. The shopman pulled the trigger of the gun he held. There was a deafening roar and the tiger disappeared from the hillock. Then all became still. They knew by the roar of pain that he was. .h.i.t. Tigers are clever and often feign death when wounded. They dared not descend. They were not sure that he was killed. At any moment he might attack their tree. Comrades in enterprise and fear, they sat gripping each other in the darkness, for the moon had now set.

The villagers had heard the shot and at day-break came to the spot. They found the tiger lying dead at the foot of the hillock. The heroes could barely descend from the machan, so stiff and aching were their bones. Together they received the plaudits of the village and shared the Government reward which to them was quite a small fortune.

A Burmese Monster

Some years ago Government sent an engineer and party to explore and prospect in the forests of Burma. None returned. Their disappearance was a mystery.

The authorities decided to send another party to ascertain the fate of the first and continue the work. To induce volunteers, a handsome salary was offered; and at length an Englishman came forward. He asked for twice the number of native attendants that the first man had had. Government granted him his request and provided him with every facility procurable and he started.

He followed the course taken by his predecessor up a large river. He travelled in a big boat and his men in smaller ones. Here and there they came upon traces of the former party. They pushed on. Suddenly all indications of the missing ones ceased. He felt he had better stop and investigate. Tents were landed and pitched and the men began to prepare their evening meal.

As he sat in his tent reading, he heard loud shouts and some of his coolies rushed to him. They said that as they were cooking they saw a great black thing hanging from a tree above them. When they made a noise it disappeared. It was long and thick and black. The coolies were frightened out of their wits and refused to remain in that place. Argument was of no use; so the tents were taken down and the party moved on.

Another spot was selected and here they stayed peacefully for some days. Suddenly a man was missing. Then another and another! Each disappeared when alone. The coolies were frightened and uneasy. But this time the Sahib managed to control them. He himself was anxious and puzzled.

Next a coolie who had gone to the river to scour vessels after a meal disappeared. The plates and lotas were scattered about just as if he had been suddenly seized. The Englishman thought that a crocodile must have taken him off.

Soon after this incident the engineer was fis.h.i.+ng in the river opposite to the camp, and he noticed two coolies coming to the river. They sat down at the ghat and began to scour their vessels. The murmur of their voices reached him.

Presently the boatman clutched his arm and pointed to the bank. He looked. One of the coolies was chasing a huge hairy monster. The other could not be seen.

The engineer soon crossed the river and joined the coolie, still in the chase after the strange creature. As usual, the Saheb carried a loaded revolver and as he ran he fired several shots at the animal. They had no effect on it. The beast ran on with heavy lumbering strides, covering the ground with great rapidity and only once glancing back over its shoulders with a horrible grin. He could not overtake it and it disappeared into the thick jungle. Its hair was so long that it completely covered the man it carried in its powerful arms. It was some kind of an orang-outang.

The mystery was now cleared up. The engineer returned. His task was accomplished. Later he wrote an account of this adventure and concluded with these words:--"Now when I see a great hairy spider I tremble! and the remembrance of that monstrous black form returns to me, and the hideous grin that thrilled me. Never can I forget it."

The Palki and the Tiger

In a lonely village in the Hazaribagh district the peaceful dwellers were one evening disturbed by shrill cries of distress. When they gathered round the house from whence the cries came, they discovered that a ghastly murder had been committed. The headman of the village immediately despatched two messengers for the police. These men started in the dawn and reached the Police outpost just before sunset.

The Inspector-in-charge was a Bengalee, named Bose, who was a very intelligent officer and keen on his work. As soon as he received information of the murder, he ordered one of his staff to arrange for a push-push (carriage which is partly drawn and partly pushed by men) and a set of bearers. He quickly put together a few requisites for the journey, and was soon ready. The night was not far advanced when the orderly returned with a push-push and eight bearers, and Bose started off, attended by his cook and body-servant.

The road lay through a forest. At times the path was so narrow and rocky that the men could make little progress, and at last they declared that the road was impa.s.sable for a wheeled conveyance, and that it was necessary for the Inspector to change into a palki. One of them said that about two miles off the road there was a village, and that in the village there lived a rich Hindustani merchant who might lend a palki. Bose was pleased at the suggestion and told the push-push bearers to take him to the village. They needed no second bidding, and the Inspector was soon being trundled across the paddy fields that lay between the village and the road. Arrived there, he hastened to the merchant's house and asked to see him.

A handsome up-countryman came out and when, he saw that his visitor was a gentleman he courteously asked him to enter and be seated. The Inspector soon explained his necessity for a palki, and the rich man placed his at the disposal of the police officer. "But Jenab (Sir),"

he said, "tigers are bad in this forest and you have to pa.s.s through a part known to be a favourite haunt of theirs. Have you any fire-arms?"

"Only my revolver," said Bose "but I must push on and take my chance." And as the palki now stood ready and the bearers declared themselves refreshed, he thanked his host for his ready a.s.sistance, bade him farewell and started once again.

The bearers were full of spirits after their rest at the merchant's house and for a mile or two travelled at a rapid pace; but the narrow winding road impeded their progress, and as the night advanced the eerie sounds of the forest must have got on their nerves. At the commencement of the journey they had beguiled the march with stories of tigers and bears met in the forest, but after some hours of travel they became silent; and beyond the usual directions of the forward men concerning the road and occasionally a shrill cry to scare away wild animals, they made no remarks to each other.

Within the palki, Bose lay fitfully dozing. The night was oppressive and his thoughts were on the murder and his chances of a successful capture of the wrong-doer. The road had become wider and level and the men were going along at a good pace, when suddenly they dropped the palki to the ground and fled in all directions. Bose shouted: "What is up? Why have you run away?" No answer greeted his ears but a strange odour penetrated his nostrils and he knew there was a tiger in the jungle. He quickly pulled the doors of the palki jamming them as securely as he could with the ends of his razai (quilt). Then he tore the strong border off his dhoti (loin cloth) and commenced to bind the handles of the doors together. He had just finished firmly las.h.i.+ng together the handles on one side when he heard an ominous growling. With frantic haste he bound the handles of the opposite doors together, praying fervently that he might escape the jaws of the tiger.

The animal continued growling. Evidently the dark bulk of the palki frightened him. Bose sat inside, huddled in a heap and breathless. The tiger, re-a.s.sured by the stillness of the object before him, ceased growling; and presently, the soft thud of his feet and his sniffing round the palki told the trembling man within that 'Stripes' was making an investigation.