Wild Adventures in Wild Places
an hour,while the sun was declining in the west, and sip the fragrant coffee,which nobody could make so well as Moondah, and which he alwayspresented to them with his own hands. The five miles that intervenedbetween his house and their encampment, seemed a trifle to them afterthat.
It was, strange to say, at this head-man's house, and not in the jungle,that they formed their first acquaintance with a tiger. Close by thewalls ran a rapid stream, by no means large at the time of which Iwrite, but in the rainy season it mast have been swollen into quite abroad and mighty river. The day had been unusually warm, and the sportvery exciting. Moondah was extremely pleased to see them; perhaps thecontents of Jowser's howdah, which had been left at Moondah's gardengate, had something to do with his delight, for they seldom called uponhim without leaving a souvenir of some kind. Moondah was in no wiseparticular, so long as it was not buffalo or cow's flesh; but pigs anddeer pleased him much, and neither wild-cat, jackal, nor iguana lizards,came wrong to him.
"Well, Moondah?" said Lyell.
"Salaam Sahib," replied Moondah, leading the way up-stairs to hisdarkest and coolest room. "I dessay you tired after your 'xertions; yousquat dere on de skins, and munch de fruit my little boy bring you. Ifetch de coffee quick enough, you see. Hallo! what is de matter now?"
This was addressed to the above-mentioned little boy, who had justrushed in with the fruit-tray, which he dropped at his master's feet.
"Hooli! hooli!" was all the boy could gasp. "The tiger! the tiger!"
"What!" cried Lyell, starting up, "a tiger in the very village?"
But it was easily explained: a dead bullock lay in a bit of bush only astone's throw up the stream, and on this the beast had doubtless come toregale himself. He was there now; and it was resolved to wait quietlyon the top of Moondah's house, and watch.
It was a long watch. Daylight faded away, twilight faded into darkness;the stars shone out; a great red round moon rose slowly up from behindthe trees, paling as it went, till at last it shone out high above them,bright, and white, and clear. But still no tiger made his appearance.At last though, there was a crackling noise amongst the bushes, then astealthy footstep, and out into the open stalked the majestic beast. Hestood for a moment as if to listen, then moved onwards to the river todrink. He presented a splendid shot. Seeing Lyell's rifle at theshoulder, Chisholm, who was of a chivalrous nature, withheld his fire.But Lyell only wounded the brute in the leg. He was staggered, andemitted a roaring cough that seemed to shake Moondah's house to its veryfoundation. Now it was Chisholm's chance; he had knelt, and ere thecrack of his rifle had ceased to reverberate among the rocks the tigerwas stretched lifeless on the river's brink.
One day Moondah came to the camp. It was evident he had something onhis mind, for he never came without good news of some kind.
"Twenty mile from here," he began, "lives a man who married two or treeof my sister."
"Well done," said Lyell, laughing.
"But that is nothing," continued Moondah; "in the scrub around hisvillage are antelope plenty; and my brodder he keep cheetah. There arealso panther in the scrub; and dere are,"--here Moondah's eyes sparkled,and his mouth seemed to water--"dere are wild pigs in de woods."
"Oh, bother the pigs!" said Lyell. "Let us go to the village and seethe cheetahs hunting. Let us go for two or three days, and make aregular big shoot of it."
Accordingly, next day they set out, and Moondah and his merrie men wenttoo. The camp was not broken up, but elephants were taken--Jowser amongothers--and horses, with plenty of ammunition and plenty of the goodthings of this life, both to eat and to drink. Their road led throughjungle, scrub, and moorland, and just skirted the great forests. Atnoonday they stopped for luncheon, and the usual siesta. Chisholm andFrank strolled off together, while it was getting ready; they walkedwith caution, as usual, for there was cover enough about for anything.They soon discovered that there was some one not far off who did notbelong to their party at all, and that he too was going in for a siesta.An immense tiger! Stretched on the grass by the river side, what alovely picture he made. Chivalrous Chisholm O'Grahame! he would nothave fired at the beast thus for the world. He admired him fully aminute in silence, then--
"Pitch a cartridge at him," he whispered to Frank.
The result may easily be guessed.
"Wough, woa, oa!" roared the beast, springing up. Chisholm gave himboth barrels. He was quiet enough after that. But had Chisholm onlywounded the creature, it might have interfered materially with thecontinuation of my story, for Frank had no arms.
That evening found them encamped near the village of Chowdrah. Theywere duly introduced to Moondah's much-married brother-in-law, and tothe cheetahs. Frank was a little afraid of these animals at first,especially when one of them made a kind of a playful spring at him andbrought him down, but this the much-married man assured Frank was all infun. Next minute the same cheetah sat down by Frank's side, and purredto him, like a monster cat. In shape of body they were not unlike amastiff, long-tailed, spotted, loose in the loins and leggy; they hadnone of the grace and beauty of the panther.
Next day and for several days our heroes enjoyed the sport of antelopehunting, and the enjoyment was very real. They did not always find, butwhen they did it was interesting to watch the movements of thenow-unhooded cheetah. How lightly and cautiously he springs to theground, flopping at once behind a bit of cover; how slowly but carefullyhe crawls towards the herd. Ah! but they see him now, and off theybound. Frank strikes spurs into his charger, and, wild horseman that heis, follows the chase. Chisholm and Lyell and Fred are not very farbehind.
But that bounding antelope and that fleet-footed cheetah distanced themall. They were never once in at the death. Moondah and his men used togo wild with joy when the antelopes were brought in. They could donothing but clap their hands and sing, "Hoolay-kara! Hoolay-kara!" tillthey were tired.
Frank so set his heart upon those cheetahs, that he determined to begfor a young one. Ay, and he got one too; but for the life of him hecould not make up his mind whether to term it "kitten" or "puppy."
Greatly to the joy of Moondah they managed to kill not a few wild pigs.
In a bit of scrub or bush about an acre in extent they were told one daythat a panther was hid. This was a chance not to be missed. Stake netswere planted at the side next to the hill where doubtless the beast'scave lay, the guns were well positioned, and the beaters began theirwork. Mr Panther, however, did not see the fun of going into that net.Disturbed at last, he quitted cover by making a wild rush at thebeaters themselves; two were rolled over, and one severely lacerated inthe leg. Fred was the nearest gun, and he wounded the panther in theshoulder, without stopping his way however. Well, a wounded panthermust attack whatever with life in it happens to come his way. In thisinstance it was an old grey boar, who was coming round a corner,wondering to himself what all the row meant. The panther repented hisrashness next minute, when the boar's tusks were fleshed in his neck.It was a curious battle, brought to a speedy termination by Chisholm'sbone-crusher. His monster bullet whizzed through the panther's body,and pierced the breast of the huge boar, and they fell as they fought.
"Now," said Lyell, "I do call that a good shot. Bravo! Chisholm."
CHAPTER FIFTEEN.
ELEPHANT HUNTING--THE ELEPHANT AND TIGER--THE TUSKER'S CHARGE--THERUNAWAY ELEPHANT--THE MAN-EATING TIGRESS.
Those of my readers who have followed me so far in my history of thewanderings and adventures of our heroes cannot but have observed that inthe character of Frank Willoughby there was a certain amount of what, togive it the right name, must be called foolhardiness. But poor Frank'slast adventure in the Indian jungle taught him a lesson which he is notlikely to forget while life lasts.
Elephant shooting seemed at first, to Frank and Fred at least, verycruel and unnecessary sport. Elephants are so sagacious and wise.
"Just think, for instance," said Frank, "of shooting a noble beast likepoor old Jowser!"
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"Ah, but," Lyell explained, "it isn't every elephant you'll find equalto Jowser. Moondah there will tell you of the immense destructionelephants cause to the maize and rice crops."
"Yes, yes, dat is so," said Moondah; "if they are not kill, and plentykill too, they soon conquer all de country worse dan de Breetish."
Well, apart from the apparent cruelty of killing the elephant, which SirSamuel Baker calls the "lord of all created animals," there is no sportin the world so exciting and dangerous as this, and none that requiresgreater hardihood or daring. No wonder then that our heroes spent overa month at it, meeting of course with many other wild adventures, but_seeking_ none other. Moondah it was who organised for