Part 1 (1/2)
The Jungle Girl.
by Gordon Ca.s.serly.
CHAPTER I
THE GREY BOAR
Youth's daring courage, manhood's fire, Firm seat and eagle eye, Must he acquire who doth aspire To see the grey boar die.
--_Indian Pigsticking Song_.
Mrs. Norton looked contentedly at her image in the long mirror which reflected a graceful figure in a well-cut grey habit and smart long brown boots, a pretty face and wavy auburn hair under the sun-helmet.
Then turning away and picking up her whip she left the dressing-room and, pa.s.sing the door of her husband's bedroom where he lay still sleeping, descended the broad marble staircase of the Residency to the lofty hall, where an Indian servant in a long red coat hurried to open the door of the dining-room for her.
Almost at that moment a mile away Raymond, the adjutant of the 180th Punjaub Infantry, looked at his watch and called out loudly:
”Hurry up, Wargrave; it's four o'clock and the ponies will be round in ten minutes. And it's a long ride to the Palace.”
He was seated at a table on the verandah of the bungalow which he shared with his brother subaltern in the small military cantonment near Rohar, the capital of the Native State of Mandha in the west of India.
Dawn had not yet come; and by the light of an oil lamp Raymond was eating a frugal breakfast of tea, toast and fruit, the _chota hazri_ or light meal with which Europeans in the East begin the day. He was dressed in an old shooting-jacket, breeches and boots; and as he ate his eyes turned frequently to a bundle of steel-headed bamboo spears leaning against the wall near him. For he and his companion were going as the guests of the Maharajah of Mandha for a day's pigsticking, as hunting the wild boar is termed in India.
He had finished his meal and lit a cheroot before Wargrave came yawning on to the verandah.
”Sorry for being so lazy, old chap,” said the newcomer. ”But a year's leave in England gets one out of the habit of early rising.”
He pulled up a chair to the table on which his white-clad Mussulman servant, who had come up the front steps of the verandah, laid a tray with his tea and toast. And while he ate Raymond lay back smoking in a long chair and looked almost affectionately at him. They had been friends since their Sandhurst days, and during the past twelve months of his comrade's absence on furlough in Europe the adjutant had sorely missed his cheery companions.h.i.+p. Nor was he the only one in their regiment who had.
Frank Wargrave was almost universally liked by both men and women, and, while unspoilt by popularity, thoroughly deserved it. He was about twenty-six years of age, above medium height, with a lithe and graceful figure which the riding costume that he was wearing well set off.
Fair-haired and blue-eyed, with good though irregular features, he was pleasant-faced and attractive rather than handsome. The cheerful, good-tempered manner that he displayed even at that trying early hour was a true indication of a happy and light-hearted disposition that made him as liked by his brother officers as by other men who did not know him so well. In his regiment all the native ranks adored the young sahib, who was always kind and considerate, though just, to them, and looked more closely after their interests than he did his own. For, like most young officers in the Indian Army, he was seldom out of debt; but soldierly hospitality and a hand ever ready to help a friend in want were the causes rather than deliberate extravagance on his own account.
Taking life easily and never worrying over his own troubles he was always generous and sympathetic to others, and prompter to take up cudgels on their behalf than on his own. His being a good sportsman and a smart soldier added to his popularity among men; while all women were partial to the pleasant, courteous subaltern whom they felt to have a chivalrous regard and respect for them and who was as polite and attentive to an old lady as he was to the prettiest girl.
While admiring and liking the other s.e.x Wargrave had hitherto been too absorbed in sport and his profession to have ever found time to lose his heart to any particular member of it, while his innate respect for, and high ideal of, womankind had preserved him from unworthy intrigues with those ready to meet him more than half-way. Even in the idleness of the year's furlough in England from which he had returned the previous day he had remained heart-whole; although several charming girls had been ready to share his lot and more than one pretty pirate had sought to make him her prize. But he had been blind to them all; for he was too free from conceit to believe that any woman would concern herself with him unasked. He had dined and danced with maid and young matron in London, ridden with them in the Row and Richmond Park, punted them down backwaters by Goring, Pangbourne and the Cleveden Woods, and flirted harmlessly with them in country houses after days with the Quorn and the Pytchley, and yet come back to India true to his one love, his regiment.
As Raymond watched him the fear of the feminine dangers in England for his friend suddenly p.r.i.c.ked; and he blurted out anxiously:
”I say, old chap, you haven't got tangled up with any woman at home, have you? Not got engaged or any silly thing like that, I hope?”
Wargrave laughed.
”No fear, old boy,” he replied, pouring out another cup of tea. ”Far too hard up to think of such an expensive luxury as a wife. Been too busy, too, to see much of any particular girl.”
”You had some decent sport, hadn't you?” asked his friend, with a feeling of relief in his heart.
”Rather. I told you I'd learnt to fly and got my pilot's certificate, for one thing. Good fun, flying. I wish I could afford a 'bus of my own.
Then I had some yachting on the Solent and a lot of boating on the Thames. I put in a month in Switzerland, skiing and skating.”
”Did you get any hunting?”