Part 6 (1/2)

On the other hand cases have occurred of elephants succ.u.mbing easily to chance shots from small-bore rifles. On a tea garden not far from Buxa a rogue had been destroying the crops in the cultivation. A young planter sat up in a _machan_[4] in a tree near the fields to watch for it. He was armed with a 303 carbine. He fell asleep and suddenly woke up to find the elephant pa.s.sing right underneath him. Without taking aim he fired blindly into the dark ma.s.s below his _machan_. The elephant rushed off. The planter remained on his perch until daylight, and, descending, met his manager and told him what he had done. The latter was an experienced sportsman and inveighed forcibly at the useless cruelty of firing at an elephant with such a small bullet, which could only wound and infuriate the animal. While he was speaking a coolie ran up to inform that the elephant was lying dead a few hundred yards in the fields. The bullet, entering the back from above, had been deflected by bones and had taken an erratic course through the body, seeming to have pierced every vital organ in it in turn.

I heard of a case in a.s.sam where a planter, carrying a 303 rifle, was walking along a road when he was suddenly charged by a wild elephant. He fired at its mouth. The animal turned and ran away. As it did so the planter fired again and hit it under the tail. The elephant staggered on a short distance and then fell dead. One of my sepoys, when on guard at Santrabari, fired at a wild elephant which was attacking our tame ones in the stables. The man used his Lee-Enfield rifle and scarcely waited to take aim.

Yet the animal, a _muckna_ or tuskerless male, dropped dead within a few yards.

Our tame elephants were taken into the forest every day to graze. One morning Jhansi was out in charge of her _mahout_ about two miles from Santrabari, when a single-tusker rogue suddenly charged out of the jungle at her. The terrified _mahout_ flung himself off her neck and crept away through the undergrowth. The rogue hurled himself against Jhansi and knocked her down by the force of his attack. He drove his one tusk deep into her back and drew off to gather impetus for a fresh charge. Jhansi scrambled to her feet and bolted. The brute pursued her, prodding viciously at her hind quarters; but being a fast mover, she outstripped him and got back to Santrabari. Her vicious a.s.sailant followed her for a short distance and then returned to search the undergrowth for the _mahout_ but, luckily for the latter, without finding him. Jhansi was brought up to the fort for me to doctor. I found a round punctured wound several inches deep in her back; and on her rump were several smaller holes and cuts made by the rogue elephants. She was an excellent patient and stood the cleaning and disinfecting of her wounds admirably.

This unprovoked attack made it imperative that I should try to put an end to the rogue's career; for, if he remained in our neighbourhood, the _mahouts_ would be afraid to take their animals out to graze. So I inst.i.tuted a hunt for him. Creagh had been transferred to Gyantse in Tibet, his place being taken by a junior captain of the regiment named Balderston. A young Irish lieutenant in the Indian Medical Service was now our doctor, as Smith had gone to another corps. As it was during the rainy season when the Terai Jungle is filled with the deadliest malarial fever, it was impossible to camp in the forest. But I came down from the hills every day and searched far and wide for the outlaw and soon found terrible traces of his presence. The body of a Gurkha, killed by him, was discovered on a path through the jungle. The man had been proceeding along it on foot when he had been met and attacked by the rogue. His head and body had been crushed flat and stamped into the ground, the legs torn off and hurled twenty yards away. The elephant had evidently placed his foot on the body, taken the legs in his mouth and torn the poor wretch to pieces. The sight made me long to meet the brute and put an end to his vicious career. But though we searched the jungle day after day, we never met him.

However, during the hunt, our doctor, who was new to big-game shooting, had the usual beginner's luck and secured the record _sambhur_ head for the district. The _sambhur_ in these jungles belong to the Malayan species which, probably owing to the dense forest they inhabit, have much shorter though thicker horns than the so-called Indian _sambhur_ found in other parts of the Peninsula. The stags are generally darker, the old ones almost black or slate-coloured; and their tails are more bushy. While the record Indian head is fifty and an eighth inches, Lydekker gives the longest Malayan antlers as thirty and an eighth inches; though an officer formerly in Buxa shot one with horns thirty-three inches in length.

As killing deer is prohibited in Government jungles during the hot weather and Rains, that being the close season, I had warned Balderston and the doctor not to fire at any we met with. And besides this, I did not want to run the risk of alarming the rogue for which we were hunting. But one day we came suddenly upon a large _sambhur_ stag. It was the first specimen of big game that the doctor, new to India, had ever seen. He became greatly excited and raised his rifle. Balderston, behind whom he was seated on Dundora, warned him not to fire; but, misunderstanding in his excitement, he pulled the trigger. The bullet struck the _sambhur_ in the foreleg; and the beast went off limping.

Shooting a stag in the close season is a dire offence in the sportsman's eye; and Balderston and I abused the unfortunate doctor roundly.

However, as it would have been sheer cruelty to allow a wounded animal to get away, I ordered our _mahouts_ to pursue. We came up to the stag in about half an hour; and I shot him through the heart. On measuring the horns we discovered them to be thirty-three inches long, which equalled the record Malay _sambhur_ I have mentioned.

About three weeks after we gave up the search for the rogue and were satisfied that he had left our jungles, our three elephants were taken out to graze in the forest by the coolies who a.s.sist the _mahouts_. It was the duty of these men to remain with their charges; but, as it happened to be pay-day in Buxa, they shackled the elephants' forelegs with chains and left them to feed, while they themselves climbed up to the fort for their salaries. On their return, several hours later, they found Khartoum and Dundora browsing placidly on the trees; but Jhansi had disappeared. She had contrived to slip her shackles, which lay on the ground. The _mahouts_, searching for her, came on the track of a herd of wild elephants, which had pa.s.sed close to our tame ones. It was conjectured that Jhansi, remembering her recent unpleasant adventure with the rogue, had become alarmed at the sight of them, got rid of her chain and fled away in an opposite direction. But, unlike the previous occasion, she did not return to Santrabari. At the time I happened to be on leave in Darjeeling; so Captain Balderston took our trained company scouts to look for her. Each man carried his rifle and ball cartridge to protect himself if necessary. It was well that they did; for on the second day of their search one of them was wantonly attacked by a large bear. A bullet from the sepoy's rifle taught it that it had not a helpless woodcutter to deal with; and, howling with pain, it ran off.

On my return I borrowed elephants from the forest officer and started out on a systematic hunt for the truant. As in the army an officer generally has to pay for any article of Government property lost while in his charge, I was afraid that I might be called upon to replace Jhansi. The cost of a female elephant runs into hundreds of pounds; so I did not relish the prospect. I telegraphed to the brigade headquarters announcing Jhansi's loss; and when the reply came I opened it in fear and trembling. It only referred me to a certain paragraph in the Army Regulations for India. I consulted it at once, and to my relief found that it merely directed me to advertise the loss of a Government elephant in a newspaper. Not knowing which journal Jhansi was in the habit of perusing, and wondering if I was supposed to word the announcement in the phrasing of the agony column, ”Come back to your sorrowing friends and all will be forgiven,” I eventually tried the columns of a Calcutta daily. But it did not bring the truant back. As month after month went by, I lost hope of ever seeing her again.

Whenever I heard that a _kheddah_ party had captured an elephant which evidently had once been tame I sent off Jhansi's _mahout_ to inspect the prisoner.

It often happens that animals which have been in captivity for some time escape and take to the jungle again. If caught they are soon discovered to have been domesticated; and _mahouts_ of lost elephants are sent to view them, as their former charges will always recognise and obey them.

I heard of a case of attempted fraud, with a fatal ending, in this connection. A _mahout_ falsely claimed an elephant as his and mounted it. The animal, enraged at being handled by a stranger, dragged him off her neck and stamped him to death before the horrified spectators could intervene.

Eight months after Jhansi's disappearance I was informed by the _mahouts_ that she had suddenly come out of the jungle and approached the Peelkhana. She stood at a safe distance watching her former comrades. When the men went towards her to secure her, she fled into the jungle. I ordered the _mahouts_ to leave food in her stall and not to attempt to interfere with her unless she came right into the stables.

Next day she made her appearance at feeding-time. The men took no notice of her, placed the usual meal of rice and leaves before Dundora and Khartoum and deposited her allowance in her ”standing.” Jhansi marched boldly in and began to eat it; and the men crept in behind her and slipped the iron shackles on her legs. She showed no resentment and continued feeding unconcernedly, and afterwards she gave no trouble, did her usual work, and seemed to feel no regret at the loss of her freedom.

FOOTNOTES:

[3] He died in 1913, since this was written.

[4] A platform erected in a tree at a height above the ground.

CHAPTER VII

A FIGHT WITH AN ELEPHANT

We sight a rogue--A sudden onslaught--A wild elephant's attack--Shooting under difficulties--Stopping a rush--Repeated attacks--An invulnerable foe--Darkness stops the pursuit--A council of war--Picking up the trail--A _muckna_--A female elephant--Photographing a lady--A good sitter--A stampede--A gallant Rajput--Attacking on foot--A hazardous feat--A narrow escape--Final charge--A bivouac in the forest--Dangers of the night--A long chase--Planter hospitality--Another stampede--A career of crime--Eternal hope--A king-cobra--Abandoning the pursuit--An unrepentant villain--In the moment of danger.

Khartoum stepped along at her usual deliberate pace through the jungle, occasionally raising her trunk to sweep the leaves off a branch and cram them into her mouth, or plucking a tuft of long gra.s.s to brush away the troublesome flies. On her neck the _mahout_ swayed to the motion, while I sat nursing my heavy 470 cordite rifle and talking to my orderly, Draj Khan, seated behind me on the pad. He carried a 303 carbine. We were pa.s.sing through a patch of thin forest bare of undergrowth, when Bechan pulled up suddenly and whispered:

”_Jungli hathi!_ (A wild elephant).”

About sixty yards ahead a large tusker was standing apparently half asleep under the trees, its right side towards us. I wondered if, since it was alone, I could consider it an outlaw which it would be justifiable to shoot. The probabilities were, as there were no signs of a herd in the vicinity, that it was a rogue. While I was mentally debating the question I slipped a couple of solid cartridges into my rifle. As I did so the elephant turned its head slowly and I saw that it had only one tusk.

”_Sahib! Sahib! wuh budmash hai!_ (It is the rogue!”) whispered Bechan excitedly.

At that moment it caught sight of us. Without hesitation, it turned and charged straight at us. There was no doubt now of its being a rogue; and probably it was Jhansi's a.s.sailant and the murderer of the Gurkha. I wished to wait until it was near enough for me to make sure of a fatal head-shot; but Khartoum became alarmed and tried to bolt. The _mahout_ did his best to stop her.

”Shoot, Sahib, shoot! My elephant will not stand,” he cried, beating her savagely with the iron _ankus_.