The Elephant God Part 23

"And he had eight hundred and fifty rupees on him," added the young engineer.

"Yes; and if all the Bhuttias had as much as the one shot that meant over two thousand."

"Where did they get it?"

"Who is behind all this?"

"The seditionists, of course," said an elderly planter.

"Yes; but today it isn't a question of an isolated outrage on one Englishwoman, nor of a few Bengali lawyers in Calcutta and their dupes among hot-headed students and ignorant peasants," said Dermot. "It's the biggest thing we've ever had to face yet in India. What we want to get at is the head and brains of the conspiracy."

"What do you make of this attempt on Miss Daleham?" asked Granger. "What was the object of it?"

"Probably just terrorism. They wanted to show that no one is secure under our rule. It may be that Narain Da.s.s, who had worked on this garden and seen Miss Daleham, suggested it. They may have thought that the carrying off of an Englishwoman would make more impression than the mere bombing of a police officer or a magistrate--we are too used to that."

"But why employ Bhuttias?" asked Payne.

"To throw the pursuers off the track and prevent their being run down. The search would stop if we thought they'd gone across the frontier, so they could get away easily. When they had got Miss Daleham safely hidden away in the labyrinths of a native bazaar, perhaps in Calcutta, they'd have let everyone know who had carried her off."

"Who was the other fellow with Narain Da.s.s--the chap who talked Bengali?"

"Probably a Bhuttia who knew the language was given the Brahmin as an interpreter."

"But I say, Major," cried a planter, "who the devil were the lot that attacked you?"

"I'm hanged if I know," Dermot answered. "I have been inclined to believe them to be a gang of political _dacoits_, probably coming to meet the Bhuttias and take Miss Daleham from them, but in that case they would have been young Brahmins and better armed. This lot were low-caste men and their weapons were mostly old muzzle-loading muskets."

"Perhaps they were just ordinary _dacoits_," hazarded a planter.

"Possibly; but they must have been new to the business," replied the Major.

"For there wouldn't be much of an opening for robbers in the middle of the forest."

"It's a puzzle. I can't make it out," said Granger, shaking his head.

The others discussed the subject for some time, but no one could elucidate the mystery. At length Dermot said to Daleham:

"No answer has come to that telegram you sent to Ranga Duar, I suppose?"

"No, Major; though there's been plenty of time for a reply."

"It's strange. Parker would have answered at once if he'd got the wire, I know," said Dermot. "But did he? Most of the telegraph clerks in this Province are Brahmins--I don't trust them. Anyhow, if Parker did receive the wire, he'd start a party off at once. It's a long forty miles, and marching through the jungle is slow work. They couldn't get here before dawn. And the men would be pretty done up."

"I bet they would if they had to go through the forest in the dark," said a planter.

"Well, I want to start at daybreak to search the scene of the attack on us and the place where I came on the Bhuttias. Will some of you fellows come with me?"

"Rather. We'll all go," was the shout from all at the table.

"Thanks. We may round up some of the survivors."

"I say, Major, would you tell us a thing that's puzzled me, and I daresay more than me?" ventured a young a.s.sistant manager, voicing the thoughts of others present. "How the deuce did those wild elephants happen to turn up just in the nick of time for you?"

"They were probably close by and the firing disturbed them," was the careless answer.

"H'm; very curious, wasn't it, Major?" said Granger. "You know the habits of the _jungli hathi_ better than most other people. Wouldn't they be far more likely to run away from the firing than right into it?"

"As a rule. But when wild elephants stampede in a panic they'll go through anything."

The a.s.sistant manager was persistent.

"But how did your elephant chance to join up with them?" he asked. "Judging by the look of him he took a very prominent part in clearing your enemies off."

"Oh, Badshah is a fighter. I daresay if there was a sc.r.a.p anywhere near him he'd like to be in it," replied Dermot lightly, and tried to change the conversation.

But the others insisted on keeping to the subject. They had all been curious as to the truth of the stories about Dermot's supposed miraculous power over wild elephants, but no one had ever ventured to question him on the subject before.

"I suppose you know, Major, that the natives have some wonderful tales about Badshah?" said a planter.

"Yes; and of you, too, sir," said the young a.s.sistant manager. "They think you both some special brand of G.o.ds."

"I'm not surprised," said the Major with a.s.sumed carelessness. "They're ready to deify anything. They will see a G.o.d in a stone or a tree. You know they looked on the famous John Nicholson during the Mutiny as a G.o.d, and made a cult of him. There are still men who wors.h.i.+p him."

"They're prepared to do that to you, Major," said Granger frankly. "Barrett is quite right. They call you the Elephant G.o.d."

Dermot laughed and stood up.

"Oh, natives will believe anything," he said. "If you'll excuse me now, Daleham, I'll turn in--or rather, turn out. I'd like to get some sleep, for we've an early start before us."

"Yes, we'd better all do the same," said Granger, rising too. "How are you going to bed us all down, Daleham? Bit of a job, isn't it?"

"We'll manage all right," replied the young host. "I told the servants to spread all the mattresses and charpoys that they could raise anywhere out on the verandah and in the spare rooms. I'm short of mosquito curtains, though. Some of you will get badly bitten tonight."

"I'll go to old Parr's bungalow and steal his," said Granger. "He's too drunk to feel any 'skeeter biting him."

"I pity the mosquito that does," joined in a young planter laughing. "The poor insect would die of alcoholic poisoning."

"I've given you my room, Major," said Daleham. "I know the other fellows won't mind."

No persuasion, however, could make Dermot accept the offer. While the others slept in the bungalow, he lay under the stars beside his elephant. The house was wrapped in darkness. In the huts in the compound the servants still gossiped about the extraordinary events of the day, but gradually they too lay down and pulled their blankets over their heads, and all was silence. But a few hundred yards away a lamp still burned in Chunerb.u.t.ty's bungalow where the Hindu sat staring at the wall of his room, wondering what had happened that day and what had been said in the Dalehams' dining-room that night. For he had prowled about their house in the darkness and seen the company gathered around the supper-table. And he had watched Dermot shut the door between the room and the verandah, and guessed that things were to be said that Indians were not meant to hear. So through the night he sat motionless in his chair with mind and heart full of bitterness, cursing the soldier by all he held unholy.

Long before dawn Noreen, refreshed by sleep and quite recovered from the fatigues and alarms of the previous day, was up to superintend the early meal that her servants prepared for the departing company. No one but her brother was returning to Malpura, the others were to scatter to their own gardens when Dermot had finished with them.

As the girl said good-bye to the planters she warmly thanked each one for his chivalrous readiness to come to her aid. But to the soldier she found it hard, impossible, to say all that was in her heart, and to an onlooker her farewell to him would have seemed abrupt, almost cold. But he understood her, and long after he had vanished from sight she seemed to feel the friendly pressure of his hand on hers. When she went to her rooms the tears filled her eyes, as she kissed the fingers that his had held.

Out in the forest the Major led the way on Badshah, the ponies of his followers keeping at a respectful distance from the elephant. When nearing the scene of the fight the tracks of the avenging herd were plain to see, and soon the party came upon ghastly evidences of the tragedy. The buzzing of innumerable flies guided the searchers to spots in the undergrowth where the scattered corpses lay. As each was reached a black cloud of blood-drunk winged insects rose in the air from the loathsome ma.s.s of red, crushed pulp, but trains of big ants came and went undisturbed. The dense foliage had hidden the battered, shapeless bodies from the eyes of the soaring vultures high up in the blue sky, otherwise nothing but scattered bones would have remained. Now the task of scavenging was left to the insects.

Over twenty corpses were found. When an angry elephant has wreaked his rage on a man the result is something that is difficult to recognise as the remains of a human being. So out of the twenty, the attackers shot by Dermot were the only ones whose bodies were in a fit state to be examined.

But they afforded no clue to the ident.i.ty of the mysterious a.s.sailants. The men appeared to have been low-caste Hindus of the coolie cla.s.s. They carried nothing on their persons except a little food--a few broken _chupatis_, a handful of coa.r.s.e grain, an onion or two, and a few _cardamoms_ tied up in a bit of cloth. Each had a powder-flask and a small bag with some spherical bullets in it hung on a string pa.s.sed over one shoulder. The weapons found were mostly old Tower muskets, the marks on which showed that at one time they had belonged to various native regiments in the service of the East India Company. But there were two or three fairly modern rifles of French or German make.