The Jungle Girl Part 15

The understanding elephant at once curled its trunk invitingly and c.o.c.ked its great ears forward. Frank did as he was directed and found himself raised in the air until he was able to get on to the elephant's head and from it scrambled on to the pad. Dermot followed and seated himself astride the huge neck.

"_Mul_! (Go on!)" he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed.

With a swaying, lurching stride Badshah at once moved across the clearing, followed by the transport elephant, on to which a _mahout_ and a coolie had climbed, and plunged into the dense undergrowth which was so high that it nearly closed over the riders' heads. The sudden change from the blinding glare of the sun to the enchanting green gloom of the forest, from the intense heat to the refres.h.i.+ng coolness of the shade, was delightful.

Beyond the clearing the vegetation was tangled and rank, high gra.s.s concealing th.o.r.n.y shrubs, tall matted bushes covered with large, white, bell-shaped flowers, all so dense that men on foot could not push their way through. But it divided like water before the leading elephant's weight and strength. The trees were now not the lesser growths of bamboo, lime and sago-palm that covered the foot-hills. They were the great forest giants, enormous teak, _sal_ and _simal_ trees, towering up bare of branches for a good height above the ground, rising to the green canopy overhead and thrusting their leafy crowns through it, seeking their share of the sunlight. Their ma.s.sive branches were matted thick with the glossy green leaves of orchid-plants and draped with long trails of the beautiful mauve and white blossoms of the exotic flowers.

Hanging from the highest branches or swinging between the ma.s.sive boles creepers of every kind rioted in bewildering confusion, a chaos of natural cordage, of festooned _lianas_ thick as a liner's hawser, some twisting around each other, others coiling about the tree-trunks, biting deep into the bark or striving to strangle them in a cruel grip. Not even the elephants' weight and strength could burst through the stout network of these creepers in places. While they tore at the obstructions with their trunks it was necessary for their drivers to hack through the creepers with their sharp _kukris_--the heavy curved knives carried in their belts and similar to the Gurkha's favourite weapon.

Here and there the party came upon glades free from undergrowth, where in the cool shade of the great trees the ground was knee-deep in bracken. In one such spot Wargrave's eye was caught by a flash of bright colour, and his rifle went half-way to his shoulder, only to be lowered again when he saw two _sambhur_ hinds, graceful animals with glossy chestnut hides, watching the advancing elephants curiously but without fear. For, used to seeing wild ones, they did not realise that Badshah and his companion carried human beings. Their s.e.x saved them from the hunters who, leaving them unscathed, pa.s.sed on and plunged into the dense undergrowth on the far side of the clearing.

The elephants fed continually as they moved along. Sweeping up great bunches of gra.s.s, tearing down trails of leafy creepers, breaking off branches from the trees, they crammed them all impartially into their mouths. Picking up twigs in their trunks they used them to beat their sides and legs to drive off stinging insects or, snuffing up dust from the ground, blew clouds of it along their bellies for the same purpose.

Suddenly the Colonel stopped Badshah and whispered:

"There's a _sambhur_ stag, Wargrave. There, to your left in the undergrowth. Have a shot at him."

The subaltern looked everywhere eagerly, but in the dense tangle could not discern the animal. Like all novices in the jungle he directed his gaze too far away; and suddenly a dark patch of deep shadow in the undergrowth close by materialised itself into the black hide of a stag only as it dashed off. It had been standing within fifteen paces of the elephants, knowing the value of immobility as a s.h.i.+eld. At last its nerve failed it; and it revealed itself by breaking away. But as it fled Colonel Dermot's rifle spoke; and the big deer crumpled up and fell cras.h.i.+ng through the vegetation to the ground. The second elephant's _mahout_, a grey-bearded Mahommedan, slipped instantly to the earth and, drawing his _kukri_, struggled through the arresting creepers and undergrowth to where the stag lay feebly moving its limbs. Seizing one horn he performed the _hallal_, that is, he cut its throat to let blood while there was still life in the animal, muttering the short Mussulman creed as he did so. For his religion enjoins this hygienic practice--borrowed by the Prophet from the Mosaic law--to guard against long-dead carrion being eaten. At the touch of the Colonel's hand Badshah sank to its knees; and Wargrave, very annoyed with himself for his slowness in detecting the deer, forced his way through the undergrowth to examine it. The stag was a fine beast fourteen hands high, with sharp brow antlers and a pair of thick, stunted horns branching at the ends into two points.

Leaving the elephants to graze freely the _mahout_ and his coolie disembowelled the _sambhur_ and hacked off the head with their heavy _kukris_. Aided by the Political Officer and Wargrave they skinned the animal and then with the skill of professional butchers proceeded to cut up the carcase into huge joints. While they were thus engaged the Colonel went to a small, straight-stemmed tree common in the jungle and, clearing away a patch of the outer mottled bark, disclosed a white inner skin, which he cut off in long strips. With these, which formed unbreakable cordage, they fastened the heavy joints to the pad of the transport elephant.

When this was done Wargrave, looking at his hands covered with blood and grime, said ruefully:

"How on earth are we to get clean, sir? Is there any water in the jungle? We haven't seen any."

The Political Officer, looking about him, pointed to a thick creeper with withered-seeming bark and said with a laugh:

"There's your water, Wargrave. Lots of it on tap. See here."

He cut off a length of the _liana_, which contained a whitish, pulpy interior. From the two ends of the piece water began to drip steadily and increased to a thin stream.

"By George, sir, that's a plant worth knowing," said Frank.

"It's a most useful jungle product," said the Colonel, holding it up so that his companion, using clay as soap, could wash his hands. "It's called the _pani bel_--water-creeper. One need never die of thirst in a forest where it is found. Try the water in it."

He raised it so that the clear liquid flowed into the subaltern's mouth.

It was cool, palatable and tasteless.

"By George, sir, that's good," exclaimed Wargrave, examining the plant carefully. "Now let me hold it for you."

After Dermot and the two natives had cleansed their hands and arms the party moved on, the transport elephant looking like an itinerant butcher's shop as it followed Badshah. Again the undergrowth parted before the great animals like the sea cleft by the bows of a s.h.i.+p and closed similarly behind them when they had pa.s.sed. Of its own volition the leader swerved one side or the other when it was necessary to avoid a tree-trunk or too dense a tangle of obstructing creepers. But once Dermont touched and turned it sharply out of its course to escape what seemed a very large lump of clay adhering to the under side of an overhanging bough in their path.

"A wild bees' nest," said the Colonel, pointing to it. "It wouldn't do to risk hitting against that and being stung to death by its occupants."

A few minutes later he suddenly arrested Badshah at the edge of a fern-carpeted glade and whispered:

"Look out! There's a barking-deer. Get him!"

Across the glade a graceful little buck with a bright chestnut coat stepped daintily, followed at a respectful distance by his doe. Their restless ears pointed incessantly this way and that for every warning sound as they moved; but neither saw the elephants hidden in the undergrowth. Raising his rifle Frank took a quick aim at the buck's shoulder and fired. The deer pitched forward and fell dead, while its startled mate swung round and leapt wildly away.

"A good shot of yours, Wargrave," remarked Colonel Dermot, when Badshah had advanced to the prostrate animal. "Broke its shoulder and pierced the heart."

Frank looked down pityingly at the pretty little deer stretched lifeless among the ferns.

"It seems a shame to slaughter a harmless thing like that," he said.

"Yes; I always feel the same myself and never kill except for food,"

replied the Political Officer. "Unless of course it's a dangerous beast like a tiger. Well, the _khakur_ is too dead to _hallal_; but that doesn't matter, as we're going to eat it ourselves and not give it to the sepoys."

The _mahout_ and the coolie were already cleaning the deer and, without troubling to cut it up, bound its legs together with _udal_ fibre and tied it to the pad of their elephant; and the party moved on again.

Half a mile further on the silence of the forest was broken by the loud crowing of a c.o.c.k, taken up and answered defiantly by others.

"Hallo! are we near a village, sir?" asked Wargrave, surprised at the familiar sounds so far in the heart of the wild.

"No; those are jungle-fowl," whispered the Political Officer. "Get your gun ready."

He halted the elephant and picked up his fowling-piece. Frank hurriedly subst.i.tuted a shot cartridge for the one loaded with ball in his gun. He heard a pattering on the dry leaves under the trees and into a fairly open s.p.a.ce before them stalked a pretty little bantam c.o.c.k with red comb and wattles and curving green tail-feathers, followed by four or five sober brown hens, so like in every respect to domestic fowl that Wargrave hesitated to shoot. But suddenly the birds whirred up into the air; and, as the Colonel gave them both barrels, Frank did the same. The c.o.c.k and three of his wives dropped. The _mahout_ urged his elephant forward and made the reluctant animal pick up the crumpled bunches of blood-stained feathers in its curving trunk and pa.s.s them to him.

Colonel Dermont searched the jungle for some distance around but could not find the other jungle-c.o.c.ks that had answered the dead one's challenge. Looking at his watch he suggested a halt for lunch, which Wargrave, whose back was beginning to ache with fatigue, gladly agreed to. Dismounting, they sat on the ground and ate and drank the contents of the pockets of Badshah's pad, but with loaded rifles beside them lest their meal should be disturbed by any dangerous denizen of the jungle.

The two natives sat down some distance away and, turning their backs on each other, drew out cloths in which their midday repast of _chupatis_, or thick pancakes, with curry and an onion or two was tied up. The elephants left to themselves grazed close by and did not attempt to wander away.

Their meal and a smoke finished the party mounted again and moved on.

But luck seemed to have deserted them. Much to the Political Officer's disappointment they wandered for miles without adding anything to the bag. He had calculated on getting another couple of _sambhur_ stags to present to the _Deb Zimpun_ as food for his hungry followers. The route that they were now taking led circuitously back towards the _peelkhana_, which they wished to reach before sundown. They had got within a mile of it and were close to the foot of the hills when Badshah stopped suddenly and smelt the ground. Colonel Dermot leaned over the huge head and stared down intently at something invisible to his young companion.

"What is it, sir?" asked Wargrave in a whisper.

"Bison. Badshah's pointing for us. We can't shoot them here, for we're in Government jungle where the killing of elephants, bison and rhino is forbidden unless they attack you. But the track leads north towards the mountains and at their foot the Government Forest ends. That's only half a mile away and we can bag them there. Load your rifle with solid-nosed bullets. This is the _pug_ (footprint) of a bull, I think."

The two natives had seen the tracks by this and were wildly excited.

Badshah without urging moved swiftly through the trees and soon brought his riders to the hills and into sight of the sky once more. The mountains stood out clear and distinct in the slanting rays of the setting sun. Suddenly a loud though distant, almost musical bellow sounded, seeming to come from a bamboo jungle about a mile away.

"That's a cow-bison calling," said Dermot in a low voice. "There's a herd somewhere about; but the '_pugs_' we're following up are those of a solitary bull. We're in free forest now; so with luck you may get your first bison. It's very steep here; we'll dismount, leave the elephants and go on foot."

The subaltern was wildly excited, and his heart thumped at a rate that was not caused by the steep slope up which he followed Dermot. The Colonel tracked the bull unhesitatingly, although to Wargrave there was no mark to be seen on the ground.

They were creeping cautiously through bamboo cover on a hill when Dermot, who was leading, suddenly threw himself on his face, lay still for a minute or two, then, motioning to his companion to halt, crawled forward like a snake. A few paces on he stopped and beckoned to Wargrave, and, when the latter reached him, pointed down into the gully below. They were almost on the edge of a descent precipitous enough to be called a cliff. Immediately underneath by a small stream was a ma.s.sive black bull-bison, eighteen hands--six feet--high, with short, square, head, broad ears and horizontal rounded horns. The only touches of colour were on the forehead and the legs below the knees, which were whitish. The animal, with head thrown back, was staring vacantly with its large, slatey-blue eyes.

Wargrave trembled with excitement and his heart beat so violently that the rifle shook as he brought it to his shoulder and gently pushed the muzzle through the stiff, dry gra.s.s at the edge of the cliff. But for the one necessary instant he became rigidly steady and without a tremor pressed the trigger. Then the rifle barrels danced again before his eyes, when he saw the great bull collapse on the ground, its fore-legs twitching violently, the hind ones motionless.

"Good shot. You've broken his spine," exclaimed Dermot, springing to his feet and sliding, scrambling, jumping down the steep descent. The excited subaltern outstripped him; but before he reached the bull it lay motionless, dead.

"You're a lucky young man, Wargrave. A splendid bison on your first day in the jungle. Those horns are six feet from tip to tip I bet," and the Political Officer held out his hand.

Frank shook it heartily as he said gratefully:

"I've only you to thank for it, sir. It was ripping of you to let me have first shot; and you gave me such a sitter that I couldn't miss.

Thank you awfully, Colonel."

Dermot gave a piercing whistle and stood waiting, while the overjoyed subaltern walked round and round the dead bison, marvelling at its size and exclaiming at his own good fortune.