Part 31 (1/2)
”Come down among us who are your brothers; we have prepared all things for your refreshment.”
”I will come down with a full heart and an empty stomach, most beneficent, when this Majesty will permit,” the strange mahout a.s.sented wearily.
”Is he rough, son--to sit?” asked the very old man, coming closer.
The elephant s.h.i.+ed a step and his mahout cuddled one ear with his fingers, as he replied:
”He is the smoothest thing that ever moved upon the surface of the earth--like a wind driven by fiends. But he never stops.”
The elephant was rolling more widely if anything, than at first; so the mahouts stood back a little and considered him.
His blackness was like very old bronze, with certain metallic gleams in it--like time-veiled copper and bra.s.s. His flawless frame was covered with tight-banded muscle. There was no appearance of fat. His skin was smooth--without wrinkles. He was young; about forty years, or less. But there was the nick of a tusk-stroke in one ear; and a small red devil in his eye.
Without warning, he flicked his mahout off his neck and set him precisely on the ground--the movement so quick no eye could follow his trunk as it did it.
The youngest mahout brought a sheaf of tender branches--such as are most desirable--and laid them near, but not too near; and when the elephant began to eat, they removed the burden of his mahout's possessions from his back.
Then the man received their ministrations--keeping an eye on the elephant. When he was ready to smoke, he began slowly:
”Ram Yaksahn is my name; and my ancestors--from the first far breath of tradition--have been servants of the elephant people. We were of High Himalaya till the man who was the man before my father. Since then we serve in the Vindha Hills. My twin brother was called with his master, to the teak jungles of the South; but I have been with the trap-stockades till now, when they send me down to these plains with the catch of all seasons.”
”It is a good hearing,” said the very old man, as they all bent their heads; and the youngest mahout carefully arranged some specially good tobacco in Ram Yaksahn's hookah.
”Now what is his record?” one asked.
”First, there is a record,” Ram Yaksahn replied, ”which may be his or another's. It is your right to know.
”Four monsoons before this elephant was trapped, the body of a forest reserve officer was found on a mountain slope. The head was broken; and the ribs. Rains had washed away all earth-marks, but small trees had been uprooted near that place; therefore the thing had been done by an elephant. Close by, a dead dog lay; entirely battered--and a split stick. Burial was given to that man with few words. He was not mourned. May the G.o.ds render to him his due!”
The mahouts a.s.sented, as Ram Yaksahn smoked a moment.
”Be patient with me, most honourable,” he went on, in strained tones.
”I come to you serving a strange master. The record I tell now, is truly your right to know.”
”Have no fear; we serve with you!” Kudrat Sharif rea.s.sured him.
”Some months after this elephant was trapped,” he continued, ”they had him picketed in the working grounds--to learn the voices of men. It was there, in the midst of us all, that he killed his first mahout. No man could prevent.
”That mahout was a violent man. He had just struck his own child an unlawful blow. She lay on the ground as the dead lie. Then it was that this elephant moved before any man could move. We heard his picket stakes come up, but we did not see them come up. No man could prevent.
”He gathered the child's dead body in his trunk and swung it back and forth--back and forth. It hung like a cloth. Slowly he came nearer to his mahout, while he swung the body of the child. When he was close, he laid the body between his own front feet. The violent man stood watching like one in a dream.
”Then this elephant who is now my master, caught the man who stood watching--as you saw him take me down, swiftly--and swung him, but in a circle. The man struck the ground on his head and it was broken; also his ribs.”
Low murmurs of appreciation swelled among the listening mahouts. Ram Yaksahn bent his head.
”It was determined,” he said with satisfaction, ”by wise men of authority who rule such matters at the trap-stockades, that this elephant had done just judgment; because the man had done murder.
”But we could not come close to this elephant--to link with his leg-chains--for his threatening eye. That night and the next day, he kept the body between his feet--the body of the little child he kept--save when he swung it. No man could prevent.