We resume the beat—The hog-deer—Nepaulese villages—Village
granaries —Tiger in front—A hit! a hit!—Following up the wounded tiger— Find
him dead—Tiffin in the village—The Fatah jungle—Search for tiger—Gone
away!—An elephant steeplechase in pursuit—Exciting chase—The Morung
jungle—Magnificent scenery—Skinning the tiger —Incidents of tiger hunting.
N ext morning,
both the magistrate and myself felt very ill. headachy and sick, with
violent vomiting and retching; Captain S. attributed it to the fierce hot
wind and exposure of the preceding day, but we, the sufferers, blamed the dekehees or
cooking pots. These dekehees are
generally made of copper, coated or tinned over with white metal once a
month or oftener; if the tinning is omitted, or the copper becomes exposed
by accident or neglect, the food cooked in the pots sometimes gets tainted
with copper, ami produces nausea and sickness in those who eat it. I have
known, within my own experience, cases of copper poisoning that have
terminated fatally. It is well always thoroughly to inspect the kitchen
utensils, particularly when in camp; unless carefully watched and closely
supervised, servants get very careless, and let food remain in these copper
vessels. This is always dangerous, and should never be allowed.
In consequence, of our indisposition, we did not start till
the forenoon was far advanced, and the hot west wind had again begun to
sweep over the prairie-like stretches of sand and withered grass. We
commenced beating up by the Batan or cattle stance, near which we had seen
the big tiger, the preceding evening. S., however, became so sick and giddy,
that he had to return to camp, and Captain S. and I continued the beat
alone. Having gone over the same ground only yesterday, we did not expect a
tiger so near to camp, more especially as the fire had made fearful havoc
with the tall grass. Hog-deer were very numerous; they are not as a rule
easily disturbed; they are of a reddish brown colour, not unlike that of the
Scotch red deer, and rush through the jungle, when alarmed, with a
succession of bounding leaps; they make very pretty shooting, and when
young, afford tender and well-flavoured venison. One hint I may give. When
you shoot a buck, see that he is at once denuded of certain appendages, else
the flesh will get rank and disagreeable to eat. The bucks have pretty
antlers, but are not very noble looking. The does are. somewhat lighter in
colour, and do not seem to consort together in herds like antelopes; there
are rarely more than five in a group, though I have certainly seen more on
several occasions.
This morning we were unlucky with our deer. I shot three, and
Captain S. shot at and wounded three, not one of which, however, did we bag.
This part of the country is exclusively inhabited by Parbutteas, the native
name for Nepaulese settled in British territory. Over the frontier line, the
villagers are called Pahareeas, signifying mountaineers or hillmen, from
Pahar, a mountain. We beat up to a Parbuttea village, with its
conical-roofed huts; men and women were engaged in plaiting long coils of
rice straw into cable-looking ropes. A few split bamboos are fastened into
the ground, in a circle, and these ropes are then coiled round, in and out,
between the stakes; this makes a huge circular vat-shaped repository, open
at both ends; it is then lifted up and put on a platform coated with mud.
and protected from rats and vermin by the pillars being placed on smooth,
inverted earthen pots. The coils of straw are now plastered outside and in
with a mixture of mud, chaff, and cow-dung, and allowed to dry; when dried
the hut is filled with grain and securely roofed and thatched. This forms
the invariable village granary, and looks at a distance not unlike a stack
or rick of corn, round a farm at home. By the abundance of these granaries
in a village, one can tell at a glance whether the season has been a good
one, and whether the frugal inhabitants of the clustering little hamlet are
in pretty comfortable circumstances. If they are under the sway of a
grasping and unscrupulous landlord, they not unfrequently bury their grain
in clay-lined chambers in the earth, and have always enough for current
wants, stored up in the sun-baked clay repositories mentioned in a former
chapter.
Beyond the "village we entered some thick Patair jungle. Its
greenness was refreshing after the burnt-up and withered grass jungle. We
were now in a hollow bordering the stream, and somewhat protected from the
scorching wind, and the stinging clouds of line sand and red dust. The brook
looked so cool and refreshing, and the water so clear and pellucid, that I
was about to dismount to take a drink and lave my heated head and face, when
a low whistle to iny right made me look in that direction, and I saw the
Captain waving his hand excitedly, and pointing ahead. He was higher up the
bank than I was, and in very dense Patair; a ridge ran between his front of
the line and mine, so that I could only see bis howdah, and the bulk of the
elephant's body was concealed from me by the grass on this ridge.
I closed up diagonally across the ridge; S. still waving to
me to hurry up; as I topped it, I spied a large tiger slouching along in the
hollow immediately below me. He saw me at the same instant, and bounded on
in front of S. His Express was at his shoulder on the instant; he tired, and
a tremendous spurt of blood showed 3 hit, a hit, a palpable hit. The tiger
was nowhere visible, and not a cry or a motion could we hear or see, to give
us any clue to the whereabouts of the wounded animal. We followed up
however, quickly but cautiously, expecting every instant a furious charge.
We must have gone at least a hundred yards, when run in front
of me I descried the tiger, crouching down, its head resting on its fore
paws, and to all appearance settling for a spring. It was about twenty yards
from me, and taking a rather hasty aim, I quickly fired both barrels
straight at the head. I could only see the head and paws, but these I saw
quite distinctly. My elephant was very unsteady, and both my bullets went
within an inch of the tiger's head, but fortunately missed completely. I say
fortunately, for finding the brute still remaining quite motionless, we
cautiously approached, and found it was stone dead. The perfect naturalness
of the position, however, might well have deceived a more experienced
sportsman. The beast was lying crouched on all fours, as if in the very act
of preparing to spring. The one bullet had killed it; the wound was in the
lungs, and the internal bleeding had suffocated it, but here was a wonderful
instance of the tiger's tenacity of life, even when sorely wounded, for it
had travelled over a hundred and thirty yards after S had shot it.
It was lucky I missed, for my bullets would have spoiled the
skull. She was a very handsome, finely marked tigress, a large specimen, for
on applying the tape, we found she measured exactly nine feet. Before
descending to measure her, we were joined by the old Major Captain whose
elephants we had for some time descried in the distance. His congratulations
were profuse, and no doubt sincere, and after padding the tigress, we hied
to the welcome shelter of one of the village houses, where we discussed a
hearty and substantial tiffin.
During tiffin, we were surrounded by a bevy of really fair
and buxom lasses. They wore petticoats of striped blue cloth, and had their
arms and shoulders bare, and their ears loaded with silver ornaments. They
were merry, laughing, comely damsels, with none of the exaggerated shyness
and affected prudery of the women of the plains. We were offered plantains,
milk, and chuppaties, and an old patriarch came out leaning on his staff, to
revile and abuse the tigress. From some of the young men we heard of a fresh
kill to the north of the village, and after tiffin we proceeded in that
direction, following up the course of the limpid stream, whose gurgling
ripple sounded so pleasantly in our ears.
Far ahead to the right, and on the further hank of the
stream, we could see dense curling volumes of smoke, and leaping pyramids of
flame, where a jungle fire was raging in some thick acacia scrub. As we got
nearer, the heat became excessive, and the flames, fanned into tremendous
fury by the fierce west wind, tore through the dry thorny bushes. Our
elephants were quite unsteady, and did not like facing the fire. We made a
slight detour, and soon had the roaring wall of flame behind us. We were now
entering on a moist, circular, basin-shaped hollow. Among the patair roots
were the recent marks of great numbers of wild pigs, where they had been
foraging among the stiff clay for these esculents. The patair is like a huge
bulrush, and the elephants are very fond of its succulent, juicy,
cool-looking leaves. Those in our line kept tearing up huge tufts of it,
thrashing out the mud and dirt from the roots against their fore-legs, and
with a grunt of satisfaction, making it slowly disappear in their cavernous
mouths. There was considerable noise, and the jungle was nearly as high as
the howdahs, presenting the appearance of an impenetrable screen of vivid
green. We beat and reheat, across and across, but there was no sign of the
tiger. The banks of the nullah were very steep, rotten looking, and
dangerous. We had about eighteen elephants, namely, ten of our own, and
eight belonging to the Nepaulese. We were beating very close, the,
elephants' heads almost touching. This is the way they always beat in Nepaul.
We thought we had left not a spot in the basin untouched, and Captain S. was
quite satisfied that there could be no tiger there. It was a splendid jungle
for cover, so thick, dense, and cool. I was beating along the edge of the
creek, which ran deep and silent, between the gloomy sedge-covered banks. In
a placid little pool I saw a couple of widgeon all unconscious of danger,
their glossy plumage reflected in the clear water. I called to Captain S.,
"We are sold this time, Captain, there's no tiger here!"
"I'm afraid not," he answered.
"Shall I bag those two widgeon?" I asked.
"All right," was the response.
Putting in shot cartridge, I shot both the widgeon, but we
were all astounded to see the tiger we had so carefully and perseveringly
searched for, bound out of a crevice in the bank, almost right under my
elephant. Off he went with a smothered roar, that set our elephants hurrying
backwards and forwards. There was a commotion along the whole line. The
jungle was too dense for us to see anything. It was one more proof how these
hill tigers will lie close, even in the midst of a line.
S. called out to me to remain quiet, and see if we could
trace the tiger's progress by any rustling in the cover. Looking down we saw
the kill, close to the edge of the water. A fast elephant was sent on ahead,
to try and ascertain whether the tiger was likely to break beyond the circle
of the little basin-shaped valley. We gathered round the kill; it was quite
fresh; a young buffalo. The Major told us that in his experience, a male
tiger always begins on the neck first. A female always at the hind quarters.
A few mouthfuls only had been eaten, and according to the Major, it must
have been a tigress, as the part devoured was from the hind quarters.
While we were talking over these things, a frenzied shout
from the driver of our naka elephant caused us to look in his direction. He
was gesticulating wildly, and bawling at the top of his voice, "Come, come
quickly, sahibs, the tiger is running away."
Now commenced such a mad and hurried scramble as I have never
witnessed before or since, from the back of an elephant. As we tore through
the tangled dense green patair, the broad leaves crackled like crashing
branches, the huge elephants surged ahead like ships rocking in a gale of
wind, and the mahouts and attendants on the pad elephants, shouted and urged
on their shuffling animals, by excited cries and resounding whacks.
In the retinue of the Major, were several men with elephant spears or goads.
These consist of a long, pliant, polished bamboo, with a sharp spike at the
end, which they call a
jhetha. These
men now came hurrying round the ridge, among the opener grass, and as we
emerged from the heavy cover, they began goading the elephants behind and
urging them to their most furious pace. On ahead, nearly a quarter of a mile
away, we could see a huge tiger making off for the distant morung at a rapid
sling trot. His lithe body shone before us, and urged us to the most
desperate efforts, it was almost a bare plateau. There was scarcely any
cover, only here and there a few stunted acacia bushes. The dense forest was
two or three miles ahead, but there were several nasty steep banks, and
precipitous gullies with deep water rushing between. Attached to each
Nepaulee pad, by a stout curiously plaited cord, ornamented with fancy knots
and tassels of silk, was a pestle-shaped instrument, not unlike an
auctioneer's hammer. It was quaintly carved, and studded with short, blunt,
sinning, brass nails or spikes. I had noticed these hanging down from the
pads, and had often wondered what they were for. I was now to see them used.
While the mahouts in front rained a shower of blows on the elephant's head,
and the spear-men pricked him up from behind with their jhethas, the
occupant of the pad, turning round with his face to the tail, belaboured the
poor hathee with the auctioneer's hammer. The blows rattled on the
elephant's rump. The brutes trumpeted with pain, but they did put
on the pace, and travelled as I never imagined an elephant could travel.
Past bush and brake, down precipitous ravine, over the stones, through the
thorny scrub, dashing down a steep bank here, plunging madly through a deep
stream there, we shuffled along. We must have been young fully seven miles
an hour. The pestle-shaped hammer is called a hathath, and most unmercifully
were they wielded. We were jostled and jolted, till every bone ached again.
Clouds of dust were driven before our reeling waving line. How the Nepaulese
shouted and capered. We were all mad with excitement. I shouted with the
rest. The fat little Major kicked his heels against the sides of his
elephant, as if he were spurring a Derby winner to victory. Our usually
sedate captain yelled—actually yelledI—in an agony of excitement, and tried
to execute a war dance of his own on the floor of his howdah. Our guns
rattled, the chains clanked and jangled, the howdahs rocked and pitched from
side to side. We made a desperate effort. The poor elephants made a gallant
race of it. The foot men perspired and swore, but it was not to be. Our
striped friend had the best of the start, and we gained not an inch upon
him. To our unspeakable mortification, he reached the dense covcron ahead,
where we might as well have sought for a needle in a haystack. Never,
however, shall I forget that mad headlong scramble. Fancy an elephant
steeplechase, header, it was sublime; but we ached for it next day.
The old Major and his fleet racing elephants now
left us, and our jaded beasts took us slowly back in the direction of our
camp. It was a fine wild view on which we were now-gazing. Behind us the
dark, gloomy, impenetrable morung, the home of ever-abiding fever and ague,
behind that the countless multitude of hills, swelling here and receding
there, a jumbled heap of mighty peaks and fretted pinnacles, with their
glistening sides and dark shadowless ravines, their mighty scaurs, and their
abrupt serrated edges showing out clearly and boldly defined against tlie
evening sky. Far to the right, the shining river—a riband of burnished
steel, for its waters were a deep steely blue—rolled its swift flood along
amid shining sandbanks. In front, the vast undulating plain, with grove, and
rill, and smoking hamlet, stretched at our feet in a lovely panorama of
blended and harmonious colour. We were now high up above the plain, and the
scene was one of the finest I have ever witnessed in India. The wind had
gone down, and the oblique rays of the sun lit up the whole vast panorama
with a lurid light, which was heightened in effect by the dust-laden
atmosphere, and the volumes of smoke from the now distant fires, hedging in
the far horizon with curtains of threatening grandeur and gloom. That far
awayr canopy of dust
and smoke formed a wonderful contrast to the shining snow-capped hills
behind. Altogether it was a day to be remembered. I have seen no such
strange and unearthly combination of shade and colour in any landscape
before or since.
On the way home we bagged a florican and a very fine mallard,
and reached the camp utterly fagged to find our worthy magistrate very much
recovered, and glad to congratulate us on our having bagged the tigress.
After a plunge in the river, and a rare camp dinner—such a meal as only an
Indian sportsman can procure—we lay back in our cane chairs, and while the
fragrant smoke from the mild Manilla curled lovingly about the roof of the
tent, we discussed the day's proceedings, and fought our battles over again.
A rather animated discussion arose about the length of the
tiger—as to its frame merely, and we wondered what difference the skin would
make in the length of the animal. As it was a point we had never heard
mooted before, we determined to see for ourselves. We accordingly went out
into the beautiful moonlight, and superintended the skinning of the tigress.
The skin was taken off most artistically.
We had carefully measured the animal before skinning. She was
exactly nine feet long. We found the skin made a difference of only four
inches, the bare carcase from tip of nose to extreme point of tail measuring
eight feet eight inches.
As an instance of tigers taking to trees, our worthy
magistrate related that in Rajmehal he and a friend had wounded a tiger, and
subsequently lost him in the jungle. In vain they searched in every
conceivable direction, but could find no trace of him. They were about
giving up in despair, when S., raising his hat, happened to look up, and
there, on a large bough directly overhead, he saw the wounded tiger lying
extended at full length, some eighteen feet from the ground. They were not
long 'n leaving the dangerous vicinity, and it was not long either ere a
well-directed shot brought the tiger Sown from his elevated perch.
These after-dinner stories are not the least enjoyable part
of a tiger-hunting party, hound the camp table in a snug, well-lighted tent,
with all the "materials" handy, I have listened to many a tale of thrilling
adventure. S. was full of reminiscences, and Inning seen a deal of tiger
shooting in various parts of India, his recollections were much appreciated.
To show that the principal danger in tiger shooting is not from the tiger
himself, but from one's elephant becoming panic-stricken and bolting, he
told how a Mr. Aubert, a Benares planter, lost his life. A tiger had been "spinsd"
by a shot, and the line gathered round the prostrate monster to watch its
death-struggle. The elephant on which the unfortunate planter sat got
demoralised and attempted to bolt. The mahout endeavoured to check its rush,
and in desperation the elephant charged straight down, close past the tiger,
which lay writhing and roaring under a huge overhanging tree. The elephant
was rushing directly under this tree, and a large branch would have swept
howdah and everything it contained clean off tlie elephant's hack, as easily
as one would brush off a fly. To save himself Aubert made a leap for the
branch, the elephant forging madly ahead; and the howdah, being smashed like
match-wood, fell on the tiger below, who was tearing and clawing at
everything within his reach. Poor Aubert got hold of the branch with his
hands, and clung with all the desperation of one fighting for his life. He
was right above the wounded tiger, but his grasp on
the tree was not a firm one. For a moment he hung suspended above the
furious animal, which, mad with agony and fury, was a picture of demoniac
rage. The poor fellow-could hold no longer, and fell right on the tiger. It
was nearly at its last gasp, but it caught hold of Aubert by the foot, and
in a final paroxysm of pain and rage clawed the foot clean off, and the poor
fellow died next day from the shock and loss of blood. He was one of four
brothers who all met untimely deaths from accidents. This one was killed by
the tiger, another was thrown from a vehicle and killed on the spot, the
third was drowned, and the fourth shot by accident.
Our bag to-day was one tiger, one florican, one mallard and
two widgeon. On cutting the tiger open, we found that the bullet had entered
on the left side, and, as we suspected, had entered the lungs. It had,
however, made a terrible wound. We found that it had penetrated the heart
and liver, gone, forward through the chest, and smashed the right shoulder.
Notwithstanding this fearful wound, showing tbe tremendous effects of the
Express bullet, the tiger had gone on for the distance I have mentioned,
after which it must have fallen stone-dead. It was a marvellous instance of
vitality, even after the heart, liver, and lungs had been pierced. The liver
had six lobes, and it was then I beard for the first time, that with the
natives this was an infallible sign of the age of a tiger. The old Major
firmly believed it, and told us it was quite an accepted article of faith
with all native sportsmen. Facts subsequently came under my own observation
which seemed to give great probability to the theory, but it is one on which
I would not like to give a decided opinion, till after hearing the
experiences of other sportsmen. |