"Are we going to begin shooting at once, Sree?" asked Harry.
"No, Sahib; not here. Too many people have been about, and everything is shy and hides. Wait till we get into some of the open places in the wild jungle."
This was while they were in the more open woodland; but soon this was left behind, and they were in the twilight of the great forest, going through a tunnel arched over by big trees, and with very little more than room for their huge steed to pass without brushing the sides.
Every here and there the gloom was relieved by what looked like a golden shower of rain, where the sun managed to penetrate; but, as soon as this was passed, the darkness seemed deeper than before.
The first part of this savage wild lay low, and the huge footprints made by the wild elephants were full of mud and water; but Sul did not seem in the least troubled. According to the custom of his kind, he chose these holes in preference to the firm ground between, his feet sometimes descending with a loud splash a couple of feet or so, and being withdrawn with a peculiar suck, while the huge beast rolled and plunged like a boat in a rough sea.
"Do you mind this?" said Phra, turning to his companion, as they were shaken together.
"No; I like it," replied Harry. "I say, what a place this must be for the big snakes, and how easily one might dart down half its body and twist round one of us. Don't you feel a bit scared?"
"No; but I heard of a hungry one doing that once. I daresay we should know if one was near."
"How?"
"The elephant seems to see and know whenever he is near anything dangerous."
"Oh, only when there is a tiger or buffalo, Phra."
"This one notices everything, doesn't he, Sree?"
"Yes, Prince; he is a wonderful beast," replied the hunter, who, in spite of the rolling about, had carefully charged the four guns that had been brought, and replaced them lying upon the hooks within the howdah, ready to be seized at a moment's notice.
"We shan't see anything here," said Phra.
"Too thick," replied the hunter; "but there are plenty of beasts on either side now. In an hour though we shall reach a part where the sun can shine through."
"Hist! Something before us," whispered Phra stretching out his hand for a gun, an act imitated by Harry; for the elephant had suddenly stopped, thrown up its trunk, and as it gave vent to a rumbling sound which ended in the loud, highly-pitched cry which is called trumpeting, it shook its head from side to side, striking the branches with the ends of its long, sharp-pointed tusks, which were hooped in two places with bands of glistening silver.
"You had better take a gun too, Sree," said Harry, in a low voice, and the old hunter eagerly availed himself of the permission.
"Mind not to hit the mahout," whispered Phra, for the little turbanned man kept on anxiously looking back; "and you had better be looking out, Hal, for Sul may spin right round and run away."
They sat watching and listening for some minutes, expecting moment by moment to see the cause of their stoppage approaching along the dusk tunnel, and at last, as the elephant ceased to make uneasy signs, Sree handed the gun to Harry.
"What are you going to do?" asked the latter.
"Slip down, Sahib, and go forward to see what startled the elephant."
"Is it safe?"
"Oh yes, Sahib; I should run back if there was danger, and you would fire over my head."
"But you had better have a gun."
The old hunter smiled, and the next minute, he had lowered himself down by the ropes which held on the howdah, reached up for the gun, which was handed down to him, and they saw him go slowly forward, carefully examining the pathway, which fortunately was here fairly free from water, though the earth was soft enough to show the footprints of whatever had passed along.
As if fully comprehending what all this meant, the great elephant made a muttering noise, lowered its trunk, and of its own choice continued its march, following close behind Sree, till the latter began to move more cautiously; and now the elephant raised its head again, and curled its trunk up, throwing it back towards its forehead.
"Means a tiger," whispered Harry.
"Yes; look at Sree. Be ready to fire."
Harry's heart beat fast, and he sat there with his gun-barrels resting on the front of the howdah, ready to fire if the great cat came into view.
The elephant was shifting its weight from foot to foot, giving itself an awkward roll that would be rather bad for a marksman; but otherwise it made no further uneasy signs.
"Tiger," cried Phra, and Sree nodded sharply, before running some little distance on in a stooping position, displaying the activity of a boy, till he was nearly out of sight; but before he was quite so he turned sharply and ran back, stopping about a dozen yards in front of the elephant's head.
"Look, Sahibs," he said, pointing down, "tiger. He came out of the low bush just on your left, and trotted along to here, and then crossed to yonder, twenty paces farther, where he went in among the trees on your right."
"Come back, then, and mount," said Harry anxiously. "The brute may be crouching somewhere ready to spring on you."
"No, Sahib," said the man, smiling; "he has gone right away."
"How can you tell that?" asked Harry.
"Look at Sul, Sahib. He would not stand quietly like that if the tiger was near."
"Yes, that is right," said Phra quietly, and he bade the mahout tell the elephant to kneel.
"Couldn't we follow and get a shot at it?" said Harry excitedly. "No, no, of course not in a place like this," he hastened to add, for unless the path was followed it was next to impossible to move.
The next minute the elephant had knelt, and Sree had scrambled back to his place behind the howdah.
"As there was one here, there may be his mate, Sahib," he said; "so we will keep a good look-out."
"Yes, of course," said Harry, as the elephant strode along quietly enough; "but I say, Phra, we did not come out after tigers, did we?"
"No, but by accident we are where we may get one. Did you find the pugs as easily as this, when you were out with my father that day?"
"No, Sahib; it was all hard work, and very few footmarks to be found."
"Did you bring us this way hoping that we might shoot a tiger?"
"No, Sahib; I brought you along here so that you might shoot a deer for us to take back. I would not purposely take you where there are tigers; but if we have one tracking us, of course we must shoot, unless you would like to go back."
"Ask the Prince if he would," said Harry. "I mean to go on."
"Go on, of course," said Phra. "I don't think we shall see any more signs of tigers."
And, in fact, they went right on now along this winding tunnel through the jungle without seeing anything, and hearing nothing but the shrieking of parrots now and then, far above their heads, where the tops of the trees spread their flowers or fruit in the bright sunshine, but produced semi-darkness in the jungle beneath.
At last, though, the path grew drier and drier and it was evident that they were ascending a slope, which being pursued for another quarter of an hour, they had the satisfaction of noting that the trees were of less growth, and every now and then there were rays of light streaming down, till all at once there was a patch of bright sunshine right in front, showing that comparatively open ground lay before them; while directly after Harry had a glimpse of something dusky fifty yards away, there was the sound of a rush and the breaking of twigs, and then all was silent again.
"Buffalo, wasn't it?" said Phra.
"Yes, Sahib," replied the old hunter. "Scared away; but they may return. There were four of them. Be ready, for they might come back and charge at the elephant, big as he is."
But no more was seen of the game they had disturbed, and a few minutes later they were out in full sunshine, the track before them being a wide expanse of park-like ground extended on either slope of a valley, through which a stream ran, half hidden by overhanging bushes and reeds. Here and there the sun flashed from the running water, but for the most part the stream was invisible.
When they broke out of the jungle they entered a dense patch of grass, which immediately found favour with the elephant, and it began tearing it up in bundles as large as its trunk would embrace; but this enjoyment was stopped at once, for at a word or two from Sree, the mahout started the animal onward, uttering mild remonstrances the while.
"We will keep along here on the slope, Sahibs," said the hunter. "Be quite ready to fire."
It was an unnecessary order, for both boys were keenly on the look-out, while as soon as he had got over his disappointment at not being allowed to tuck small trusses of the succulent grass into his capacious maw, Sul showed how well trained a hunting elephant he was, taking up the beating in the most matter-of-fact way, and as if thoroughly entering into the spirit of the chase.
"What shall we get along here, Sree?" asked Harry, as they rode on, with the long grass and bushes rustling and snapping about the elephant's feet.
"Who knows, Sahib? Perhaps pig, which will make for the low ground yonder by the stream, or peacock, and they will rise and fly to our left for the shelter of the jungle. Maybe it will be a buffalo, who will charge us, and then it will be better that I should fire too, for the great obstinate brute ought to be stopped before it reaches Sul. He would take the buffalo on his tusks, but these beasts are so strong that he might be hurt, and that would be a pity; it makes an elephant unsteady."
"I thought you said we might get a deer," said Phra.
"It is very likely, Sahib," replied the man. "Who knows what we may find in such a beautiful hunting-country, where no one disturbs the beasts? Ah, look!"
For at that moment Sul uttered a warning sound which can best be represented by the word Phoomk, and stopped short, but without curling up his trunk out of the way of some charging enemy.
The boys raised their guns to their shoulders, and waited for a chance to fire, but there was nothing seen save the waving and undulating of the long grass to their left, as if something were making for the jungle—something long, like a gigantic serpent.
"Shall I fire?" said Phra.
"It is of no use, Sahib," replied Sree; "the cover is too deep."
"What is it?" said Harry hoarsely—"a boa?"
"No, Sahib; a little troop of small monkeys following an old one. They have been down to the water to drink, and they are running back to the jungle trees."
"Oh, we don't want to shoot them," said Harry; "go on."
The elephant obeyed a touch from the goad, and shambled along, making the long grass swish, while he muttered and grumbled as if dissatisfied at there being no firing. But before they had gone a hundred yards farther he gave warning again, and almost at the same moment there was a loud grunting, a rush to the right, and two reports rang out as both boys fired.
This was followed by a sharp squeal, but the undulation of the grass did not cease, and from their position high up the two lads caught sight from time to time of the blackish-brown backs of three or four good-sized pigs.
"We hit one," cried Harry excitedly. "Send Sul on. It must be lying dead."
"No, Sahib," said Sree. "You hit one, but they have all gone off."
"How do you know? Perhaps one is lying there in the long grass."
"No, Sahib," said the man; "you would have seen it struggling, and heard its shrieks. A pig makes much noise. But I saw the one hit, and it only gave a jump. You both fired the wrong barrels."
"What!" cried Phra, examining his gun, with Harry following suit.
"The right barrels are for shot, the left barrels for ball," said Sree quietly. "Those shot would kill a peacock, but only tickle the thick skin of a wild pig."
"How stupid!" said Harry. "I never thought of that. Here, load again."
He handed his gun to the hunter, and took up another from the hooks inside the howdah, while Sul went on, muttering to himself, but there appeared from the sound to be more satisfaction in his remarks at the efforts made, though there had been no result.
So comical was all this that the boys laughed heartily, and there was a grim smile on Sree's countenance.
"It seems so droll," said Phra merrily. "It is just as if he knew all about it."
"He does, Sahib," said the hunter.
"Nonsense!" said Harry.
"The Sahib has not seen so much of elephants as I have," said the man respectfully. "He believes that I have learned much about the wild creatures of the jungle?"
"Oh yes, you have, Sree; but I can't believe elephants understand what we are doing."
"The wild elephant is one of the wisest of beasts, Sahib, and he would never be caught, he is so cunning, if it was not that we cheat him by sending elephants that we have trained to the herd to lead others into traps. And when they have got them there, do they not beat them and hold them till they are noosed and their spirit is conquered?"
"Oh yes, they do all that."
"And many other things," said Sree, "that I have seen with the Sahibs in India, where they move and pile the trees that are cut down, and lift guns; and what beast will obey its master better than an elephant? Old Sul here is very wise, and knows a great deal."
"Yes," said Harry, "but not to understand what we say."
"But he knows what the order means, Sahib; and see how he enjoys the hunting."
"Yes, Sul really does like hunting, Hal," said Phra.
"And it is not only elephants that like hunting," continued Sree. "See how the horses and dogs love the hunting in India, and the horses the pig-sticking. I have seen them enjoy it as much as the Sahibs. They never want the spur, but go wonderfully fast, as soon as they see a fierce, wild boar. Ah, Sahib, animals are wiser than we think, and love us back again if we love them. Old Sul here loves me better than he does his driver; but I am afraid of him. He loves me too well."
"That sounds funny, Sree," said Harry. "What do you mean?"
"He likes to show me how much he loves me by rubbing up against me; and if he tries to do that when he has me by a tree or one of the palace walls, I am obliged to be quick and get under him; he is so big and heavy. But here is your gun."
Meanwhile the object of these remarks had been forcing his way through the grass and bushes, winking his little red eyes as if enjoying the conversation, and flapping his great ears, his absurdly small tail whisking about and making dashes at troublesome flies, while his great trunk seemed to possess an independent existence, twining and waving, swaying this way and that, and never for a moment still.
But all the while the great, sensible creature was intent upon the object in hand, pushing steadily forward through the dense growth, and starting numberless occupiers of the long grass—snakes, lizards, rats, and mice, scurrying away to avoid the pillar-like legs which invaded their home.
"Don't seem as if we are going to have much sport," said Harry at last, "and it's precious hot out here."
The words had hardly passed his lips when Sul uttered a deep grunt and stood fast, for he had startled a small deer from its lair, the graceful creature making a sudden bound into sight close to the elephant's feet, and then going right forward in a succession of leaps, so that its course hindered the boys from firing until it had gone forty yards, when both guns rang out sharply, Sul remaining firm as a rock.
"Hit!" cried Sree, for the deer fell heavily, struggled in the thick growth for a few moments, then gained its feet and made another bound into sight—a bound which paralysed the arms of the two lads and made them hold their breath, for as the deer made what was veritably its death leap, something of a tawny yellow and brown mingled made a tremendous bound on to it, bringing it down among the bushes with a dull, crashing sound, and then all was still.
CHAPTER XIII
THEIR FIRST TIGER
Though the two boys seemed to be turned to stone, others were active enough.
Sree leaned over the back of the howdah and took the boys' guns from their hands. "Quick, Sahibs!" he cried; "take the other guns and be ready."
The boys obeyed mechanically, while Sree began to re-charge the empty barrels, calling to the mahout to turn the elephant and go back.
But Sul had ideas of his own in connection with elephant-hunting, and absolutely refused to obey that order even though it was emphasized with the sharp goad.
Understand or no, according to Sree's theory, he had sense enough to decline doing what many of his kind would have done under the circumstances—to wit, turning tail. For Sul seemed to know that though his insignificant tail with its tuft at the end was a formidable weapon to deal with teasing flies, that end of his person was absurdly useless for fighting tigers, whereas his other end, when his trunk was thrown up out of the way, with its two sharp-pointed clear lengths of ivory, was about the most formidable object the great, ferocious cat could encounter.
Consequently, as soon as in obedience to Sree's orders the goad was applied, Sul uttered a shrill remonstrance, curled up his trunk, threw his head from side to side, and then as if declaring that he didn't care a sou for the biggest tiger that ever grew, he trumpeted out defiance and began a performance that was wonderfully like his idea of a war dance, which threatened to shake the occupants out of the howdah.
"Turn him back and get away," cried Sree angrily, in the Siamese tongue.
"Says he won't go and wants to fight," replied the mahout.
Sul uttered a fierce cry, and ceasing his dance opened his ears widely, and began to advance.
"You must turn him back," cried Sree excitedly, as he finished ramming down bullets in every barrel.
"I can't," came back from the mahout, in a helpless tone.
"Never mind," cried Harry; "let's go on," and he changed his gun for one that had been reloaded.
"But it is too dangerous for you, Sahibs," cried Sree. "It is a big tiger. Do you hear me? Turn the elephant back."
"No," said Phra hoarsely, as he stood up in the howdah. "I say he shall go on."
Sul trumpeted again, while Sree rammed down bullets in the other guns, and in answer to the elephant's challenge the hidden tiger uttered a deep, muttering roar.
"We can't help ourselves, Hal," said Phra through his set teeth. "We must go on."
"Yes," replied Harry, cocking both barrels of his gun; "I wouldn't have tried for it, but we must hunt this beast."
There was only one way of avoiding the encounter, and that was by sliding off over the elephant's tail, which would have been a far wilder proceeding. But this neither of the boys had the slightest inclination to do, for the elephant was still moving cautiously forward, and fully realizing now that there was nothing to be done but to assume the offensive, Sree became silent, contenting himself with cocking both the guns he held and standing ready either to hand them to the boys or fire himself.
Harry, too, set his teeth as he looked over the elephant's flapping ears towards the spot where he knew the tiger must be crouching upon the stricken deer, and while, step by step, as if to give his masters the opportunity of using their deadly weapons Sul slowly advanced, the tiger raised its head from its prey and uttered a warning roar to frighten the elephant back.
"Oh, if he would only show himself!" thought Harry.
But the elephant did not respond to the threat by turning back, for he meant to fight, and was ready to impale his enemy should he get a chance; and to this end he still went on, till all at once, about a dozen yards from his head, the tiger leaped up into sight and stood lashing his sleek, glistening sides as if to add to the number of stripes with his tail.
The words were on the old hunter's lips, "Fire, fire!" but before they were uttered two reports rang out, there was a terrific, snarling yell, and the tiger leaped high in the air and then dropped back, crouching out of sight.
"Good, good!" whispered Sree, and forgetting entirely now all about the objections to the boys joining in a tiger hunt, he was about to bid the mahout advance. But the order was unnecessary. Sul was as eager as the boys, and he moved steadily on, while the latter leaned forward, seeking for the first sign of the striped skin, so as to fire again.
They had not long to wait, for Sul had advanced but very few yards before with a terrific roar the tiger rose and leaped forward.
The sudden advance checked the elephant, which stopped short, giving the boys a steady shot each, but without the slightest effect upon the tiger, which made two or three bounds and then launched itself at the elephant's head.
But Sul was ready for it, and caught the savage brute on his tusks and threw it back as easily as a bull would toss an attacking dog.
Cat-like, the tiger fell upon its feet, and crouched to spring again, but before it could launch itself forward a couple more shots cooled its savage ardour, and it crouched down, turned its head, and bit angrily at one shoulder, from which the blood was starting.
Sul seized the opportunity and rushed forward to crush his enemy beneath his feet. But wounded though it was, the tiger was aware of the attack, and leaping aside let the great animal thunder by, and then, following quickly, made a tremendous leap and lighted on the elephant's hind quarter, holding on by tooth and nail.
Sul uttered a terrific blast and continued his course, shuffling along at a tremendous pace, forcing those who rode in the howdah to think of nothing but preserving their position and keeping the guns from being shaken out. But at the end of a few moments the peril in which Sree stood came strongly to Harry's attention, for the man could do nothing but hold on by the back of the howdah, after thrusting the gun he had been loading, forward by Phra's side.
It was a perilous task, and required plenty of nerve, but Harry mastered his shrinking. He glanced over the back of the howdah, to find himself face to face with the tiger, whose wildly dilated eyes seemed to be blazing with rage, and for a moment or two he shrank away.
But recovering himself a little he made sure of the gun he held being cocked, and catching tightly hold by the side of the howdah, he rested the gun-barrels on the back, holding the stock as if it were a pistol.
But now he was so insecure that he felt as if at any moment he must be pitched over backward on the tiger, and firing seemed quite out of the question.
Still it had to be done, and he knew that he must do it, and at once.
Dropping on his knees, he shuffled himself close to the back, bringing himself so near to the tiger that as he reached over with the gun he could touch the savage brute with the muzzle.
He knew that if he stopped to think he should not dare to do it, while as he leaned over he was saluted by a savage roar, and the tiger began to claw its way up to leap at him.
But there was not time, for Harry rested the muzzle of his piece between the creature's eyes, feeling it pressed back towards him. Only for an instant, though, for he drew trigger, there was a roar mingled with the sharp report, and with one spasmodic movement the tiger gathered itself up almost into a ball and fell back among the long grass, where it lay writhing in agony.
The effect on Sul was immediate. He stopped short and swung round, nearly throwing his riders off as he ran back to where the tiger lay, and drove one tusk through the monster, pinning it to the ground, with the result that the beast writhed a little, and then stretched itself out, dead.
"Yes, he is dead enough, Sahib; but Sul has made a dreadful hole in his skin."
This was after Sree had slipped down from the back of the elephant, and walked close up.
"Make quite sure," said Harry, who with Phra was looking on.
"There's no doubt about it, Sahib. You made sure with that last shot in his head. Feel if he's dead, Sul," he said, in the Siamese tongue.
The elephant grunted and muttered, and seemed for a time unwilling to withdraw his tusk; but he evidently understood the order, and at last backed a little, the action dragging the tiger with him, till he gave his head a shake, and the body dropped off.
After this the elephant cautiously walked over the prostrate foe, and kicked it to and fro from one foot to the other, before feeling it all over with his trunk, and then standing panting with exertion, and breathing hard.
"Get off and help see to his hurts," said Sree to the mahout, who ordered the elephant to kneel, and then climbed along his back by holding on to the sides of the howdah, till he reached the places where the tiger's teeth and claws had been struck into the thick hard skin.
Some nasty places had been made, but there was nothing serious the matter. All that was necessary was to keep the ever-active flies away, and this was done by some very rough but effective surgery, consisting in filling up the wounds with mud, the elephant grumbling and muttering, but evidently appreciating the treatment, keeping perfectly still the while.
"Poor old chap!" said Harry, who had dismounted to examine the dead tiger and pet the elephant by stroking his trunk. "But what about getting the game home?"
"I shall begin skinning it at once, Sahib," said Sree quietly; "but I want you to get back into the howdah and keep a good watch. This fellow has very likely a companion somewhere near, and she may come and attack us."
"Think so?" said Harry.
"Oh yes," interposed Phra; "it is very likely. But I say, Hal, we're not going to have our prize skinned yet."
"No, that's what I thought. We must take it home for every one to see.
Sul would carry it home on his back."
"I don't know; he has never been taught; but we'll try."
He spoke to Sree, who looked doubtful, and in turn consulted the mahout before saying more.
"Sul is such a big, noble animal, Sahibs," he then said, "that he has never been set to carry dead game, that has always been done by a little pad elephant; but he is so wise that he may be proud of carrying back the great tiger he has killed. I am going to try him."
The boys smiled at each other, and were amused to see the old hunter go with the mahout to the elephant and bring him up to the dead tiger, which he began to touch with his trunk, ending by taking a turn round the animal and drawing it along a little way.
After this he stood quietly enough while the ropes were unlaced from the howdah ready for hoisting the tiger on to the elephant's back.
"We shall not be strong enough to get it up, I'm afraid," said Sree thoughtfully.
"Look here," said Harry; "there is a great tree with strong branches yonder; make Sul drag the tiger under one of the big boughs; then we can throw the rope over and make him stand underneath, haul the tiger up, and lower it down."
Sree smiled, for the knot which had puzzled him had been untied.
The mahout was brought into requisition, and at the word of command, just as if he fully understood the business required of him, Sul took a turn of his trunk round the tiger's neck and dragged it through the long grass right beneath the great tree, one of the many dotted about park-like on the slope.
The rest was easy. The rope was fastened round the tiger's hind legs, the end thrown over a horizontal branch, and then the willing hands of all four drew the savage brute up some fifteen feet. Here the crucial time came, for there was a doubt still whether Sul would now submit to the huge cat being lowered down upon his back.
But as it happened he placed himself quietly enough where his mahout directed, and the tiger was lowered down, after which Sree climbed up and with the mahout's assistance they laid the body right across the back of the howdah. Then the latter, which had been in a very tottering condition, was carefully secured by its rope, all mounted again in triumph, and the journey back was commenced, Sree carefully seeing to the reloading of the guns and placing them ready, before settling down to his place in the howdah, for he had to sit on the dead tiger and keep it from shifting to right or left.
They had not gone far on their return journey before the old hunter uttered a warning which made the boys catch up and cock their guns, in spite of the determination they had come to of not firing any more that day.
"Are you sure?" said Phra. "Sul has not made any sign."
"No, Sahib," replied Sree; "he did not see her, because he has been walking nearly all the time with his eyes turned back to watch the tiger; for though he is very good, I am sure he does not like having the wicked wretch upon his back."
Five minutes later they drew near the spot where the old hunter had caught a glimpse of a striped side crossing the track they had made in coming, and proof of the keenness of Sree's observation was given, the elephant throwing up his trunk and trumpeting uneasily.
"It's this wretch's wife, Sahibs," said Sree. "She has been hunting, and is coming back."
"Will she attack us?" said Harry, cocking his gun, and feeling quite ready now for another shot.
"No, Sahib, I think not. Tigers are very cowardly till they are hurt; then they are blind and mad in their rage, and will rush at anything. No; perhaps she may understand that it is her mate that we have here, and follow us; but I do not think she will attack."
"Old Sul does not think so," said Phra. "Look at him, how he keeps on turning his head from side to side, and how high he carries his trunk."
It was plain enough that the great animal was growing more and more uneasy, necessitating constant talking to on the part of the mahout, who spoke sometimes caressingly, at others angrily, and using his goad afterward, as he threatened tremendous punishment and deprivation of all good if his charge did not behave.
"He thinks old Sul means to rush off home as hard as he can go," observed Phra.
"And if he does he'll soon waggle the tiger off his back, won't he,
Sree? The tiger must come off if Sul rushes away?"
"I fear so, Sahib. Ah, the tigress must be very near now. Look at
Sul's ears."
"She must be slinking along through the grass on this side," said
Harry.
"Yes, Sahib; that is where she is, but I don't think she will attack us."
"Shall we send a shot or two in amongst the grass?" said Phra.
"No, Sahib; that would make her come on, and one tiger is enough for to-day."
"Yes, quite," said Phra. "Let's go faster and see if the tiger will stop on."
He said a word or two, and the mahout spoke to the elephant, who wanted no urging, but stretched out in that long, shuffling movement which seems nothing, but goes over enough ground to make a horse use plenty of speed to keep up with it.
But it seemed as if the tigress must still be near, for Sul's trunk formed a curve high in the air, and his ears stood out at a fierce cock, while it needed all the mahout's attention to keep the great creature to one pace, for without the check of the hooked goad he would have gone off at a frantic rate.
For the first few hundred yards the attention of all in the howdah was directed to the tiger, their expectation being that it would slip off on one side or the other; but it was yet soft and yielding, and with Sree's weight upon it the middle sank down lower and lower in the howdah till the head and legs on one side, the hind quarters and long, supple tail on the other, rose higher and higher in the air, and all chance of its causing further trouble was at an end.
It was not until the edge of the jungle was reached, where the elephant path ended, that Sul's trunk had descended to its customary pendent fashion, and his ears ceased to quiver and flap; but the narrow track in the gloom seemed to be far more suggestive of danger, and Phra suggested that Sree should change his position, kneel down, and keep watch over the elephant's tail, in case the tigress should be following still.
"Yes, Sahib," said the man, and he at once did as was suggested; but he observed before turning that he did not think there was any fear of an attack in the rear.
"Sul's senses are sharper than mine," he said, "and he would know if we were being tracked."
Sree was right, for there was nothing to cause alarm all the way back. Monkeys were plentiful in one place, and whenever the party came upon an opening, it was made beautiful by flower, bird, and gaily painted insect. These had no charms for the hunters, though, with such a trophy within touch, and at first all their conversation had a connection with the great, white, china-like fangs of the monster, the size of its claws, and the soft beauty and rich colour of its fur.
But as they drew nearer to the end of their journey, with Sul shuffling along at a sober but rapid pace, the conversation became one in which the old hunter was not asked to join.
For now misgivings began to arise as to the reception that might await them when they reached their homes.
"I know how it will be," said Harry; "father will have heard that I have gone off with you on the elephant, and he will think that I have wilfully disobeyed his orders and been tiger-shooting."
"Why should he think that? You never do disobey his orders."
"Don't I?" said Harry dubiously.
"Never," cried Phra.
"I don't know about that," said Harry. "I'm afraid I've gone very near to it sometimes. But I will say I've always been very sorry afterwards."
"And owned to it?"
"Oh yes," said Harry stoutly; "I've always owned up at once. Haven't you?"
Phra was silent.
"Why don't you say yes?"
"Because it wouldn't be true," said the boy, with a sigh. "I've always wanted to, but sometimes I've felt afraid. You see, my father isn't like yours."
"He's a very nice old chap," said Harry.
"Yes, of course; but he's a king, and kings can't do like other people."
"I don't see why they shouldn't," said Harry; "but I say, suppose my father is up at the palace, what are we going to do? You are sure to catch it for taking the elephant."
"That I'm not. Father said I could have one whenever I liked. I could have three or four if I wanted them."
"But not to go tiger-shooting. Oh, Phra, this has been wonderfully jolly and exciting."
"Splendid."
"Well, splendid; but I am afraid we shall be in a mess."
"We can't be if we speak out. I'm sure I can say honestly that I hadn't the least thought of shooting a tiger when we set off; can't you?"
"No," said Harry bluntly. "I began to feel tigerish as soon as I got in the howdah, and I couldn't think of anything else all the time. I wasn't a bit surprised to see old Sul begin to show signs. No, I can't say right out that I didn't think about tiger-hunting."
"But we didn't go on purpose," said Phra.
"Well, no," said Harry, hesitating, "not quite on purpose, but I couldn't help wishing we might see one."
"Well, you had your wish; but I wish we weren't so late."
"It was all an accident, though," said Harry. "I say, Sree, wasn't it all by accident that we came across a tiger to-day."
"Yes, Sahib, quite an accident; but we have got one, and I feel very proud of the way in which you two young gentlemen behaved. No old tiger-hunter could have done better."
"But I'm sure father won't like it."
"He will know it was all as it happened, Sahib. You were obliged to shoot the wicked beast. If any one is to blame, it is old Sul, for forcing you to go on."
"Ah, to be sure," cried Harry, laughing merrily. "It was all his fault, Phra, and we'll say so."
"Yes, it's all very well to say so," said Phra, rather gloomily; "but will they believe what we say?"
"My father will believe what I say," said Harry stoutly; "so will yours."
"I hope so," said Phra sadly, "but I don't feel sure."
"I don't think the Sahib Kenyon can be angry," said Sree respectfully, "because it is such a splendid tiger."
"Why, that's just why he will be angry," cried Harry. "He'll be quite furious with me for going out and getting a grand tiger like this when he and the doctor went out as they did, and tried till quite late, and never had a chance."
"Well," said Phra philosophically, "we are very nearly home now, and we shall see. But I wish we hadn't brought the tiger back."
"I don't," said Harry. "It really was an accident."
Very little more was said till they came in sight of the palace, where something important was evidently going on, for they caught sight of the glint of spears and a body of men. A minute later they saw a couple of elephants, and directly after they made out that Mr. Kenyon and Doctor Cameron were there.
Then there was quite a scene of excitement, for some of those present had seen them coming, and when the next moment some one caught sight of the tiger, there was a tremendous shout.
"Hal," whispered Phra, "my father found that we had gone out on an elephant, with guns, and he has sent word to Mr. Kenyon and the doctor, and ordered them to get ready."
"That's it," cried Harry excitedly, "and they were coming in search of us."
"The King will be dreadfully angry," said Phra, "and say I disobeyed his orders."
"And my father will be quite awful," said Harry solemnly. Then changing his tone and speaking with an assumption of lightness which he did not feel, "I don't care; it really was an accident, and we're in for it, and it can't be helped; but here, I say, Sul, you ugly old double-tailed deceiver, do you know you've got us into an awful mess? Sul, I say, do you hear!"
And the elephant said,—
Phoomk!
CHAPTER XIV
A YOUNG SAVAGE
The great elephant approached the group in the courtyard with slow and majestic step, as if proud of the load he bore, and of now being surrounded by a little crowd of spearmen, cheering and shouting loudly.
As they drew near, the two elephants that had been prepared, as was rightly surmised, to go in search of the wanderers, challenged their big companion loudly, Sul sounding his trumpet in reply, but without allowing the excitement around to increase his advance in the slightest degree.
"The young rascals!" said the doctor to Mr. Kenyon. "It's a magnificent tiger, apparently."
"Yes, but Harry ought not to have done this," said Mr. Kenyon. "I am disappointed in him."
"Are you going to give him a talking to now? Rather awkward while he is being made a hero of by the people."
"I am going to wait till I get him home."
"Well, I'm glad to see them safe back again," said the doctor. "I felt certain that they must have met with some mishap. But it is hard that we should be disappointed, and that they should have all the luck."
"Hush!" whispered Mr. Kenyon, for the great elephant had knelt down before the King, ladders had been placed by the attendants on either side, the boys had descended, and helped by some of the men, Sree had slid the tiger off, to be half borne, half dragged, to the King's feet.
But Phra's father did not even glance at it. He gave Harry an angry glance as he approached with his companion, and then fixed his eyes sternly upon his son, who bent down before him.
"You know, sir," he said, in their own tongue, "that it is the duty of my people to obey my commands."
"Yes, father."
"How can we expect them to do so when my own son sets my orders at defiance? I told you I wished you not to go in chase of tigers, did I not?"
"Yes, father."
"Who is to blame for this, you or your companion?"
"Neither of us, sir," broke in Harry, in his blunt, English, outspoken way. "We only went deer-shooting, sir; but the tiger charged us, and of course we were obliged to shoot. Old Sul was most to blame."
The King looked more stern that ever, all but his eyes, which refused to keep his other features in countenance.
"What have you to say, sir?" said the King, turning again to his son.
"The same as Harry Kenyon, father," replied the boy. "The elephant rushed at the tiger, which had struck down a deer we shot."
"Where is the deer you shot?" said the King.
Phra turned to Harry, for the deer had been quite forgotten, and Harry turned to the old hunter, who was kneeling by the tiger.
"Here, Sree," he cried, "what became of that deer we shot?"
The man made a gesture with his hands, and shook his head.
"We forgot all about it, sir," said Harry, laughing frankly. "We had so much to do with killing the tiger and getting it on old Sul's back that we never remembered it any more, did we, Phra?"
"No," said the latter gravely.
"It was all an accident, sir, indeed," said Harry, who was speaking in English. "We were obliged to shoot, sir, really. I'm sure you would have done the same if you had been there."
"That is enough," said the King quietly. "I am glad to hear it was so. It is a painful thing, Harry Kenyon, to feel that one's own son is not to be trusted. Your father felt the same."
"Oh, but he doesn't now, sir. Do you, father?"
"No, Hal; I am quite satisfied."
"A very fine tiger," said the King, going close up to the dead beast; "a splendid specimen. Let it be carefully skinned, and the skin properly dressed."
Sree bowed his lowest, so that his forehead would have touched the ground had not the tiger been there. As it was, he thumped his head against the animal's ribs.
"Who fired the first shot?" said the King, smiling.
The boys looked at one another.
"Both fired together, father," replied Phra.
"Then you will give way to your friend, my son," said the King. "Harry
Kenyon, it is yours."
Harry was about to protest in his blunt way, but his father was at his elbow.
"Silence!" he said softly. "Now your thanks."
Harry obeyed, and the King turned to where the little party of English people were standing.
"I am glad it has turned out so well, Kenyon," he said gravely, and with great dignity, as the eyes of all his people were upon him; "but it is disappointing for you and the doctor to see these two boys have such good fortune. You shall have another trial, and we must do away with our objections now. I think the boys deserve to be admitted to the ranks of tiger-hunters."
"Oh!" ejaculated Harry, and the King turned to him.
"You make a bad courtier, Harry," he said, with a very faint smile upon his lip. "I feel that there is no one in my country less afraid of me than you are."
He saluted them, and making a sign to his son to follow, passed into the palace, Phra giving his friends a quick nod of the head and a smile, and then he was hidden from sight by the King's attendants.
"Then we may go back home now, I suppose," said Mr. Kenyon.
"Yes," replied the doctor, "and the sooner the better. As soon as the sun goes in we seem to be in the shade. All is bright and warm while the King is near, but when he goes every one seems to scowl."
Mr. Kenyon gave his friend a meaning look as if saying, "No more now," and laid his hand upon Harry's shoulder.
"You have had quite an exciting time, then, Hal?" he said quietly, as they walked away.
"Oh, wonderfully, father," cried the boy.
"Enjoyed yourself?"
"Well, I don't know that it was enjoying oneself, but I liked killing such a dangerous, mischievous beast."
"And all the time the King and I were fidgeting ourselves and beginning to think, as it grew so late, that some terrible accident had happened to you."
"It isn't so late as you and Doctor Cameron were that time."
"Getting on to be, sir."
"Don't you think that poor Phra and I were just as anxious about you and the doctor, father?" said the boy mischievously.
"No, indeed I don't," said Mr. Kenyon, laughing. "You are both too thoughtless. And look here, young gentleman, you forget yourself horribly. I never heard anything like it. You must not speak to the King in that free and easy way, just as if he were your equal, before all his people."
"Free and easy?" said Harry, staring. "I thought I was speaking very nicely, father."
The doctor laughed heartily, and Harry's cheeks turned hot with annoyance.
"Why, what did I say that was wrong?"
"It was not the words but the way, my boy," said Mr. Kenyon gravely. "Of course one does not look upon the Prince of a barbaric country like this as one would upon a European monarch; but in the presence of his followers we must not forget that he is a king."
"I did," said Harry frankly; "I felt as if I were speaking to Phra's father and your friend."
"Humph!" ejaculated Mr. Kenyon, as he glanced at the doctor.
"That's right enough, Hal," said the latter; "but we must not presume on the King's kindness to us."
"No, of course not," said Harry thoughtfully. "I'll be more careful, especially as some of the people seem to be jealous of our being so much in favour."
"That's right, Hal; be more careful, for all our sakes."
"Do you think there is any danger, father?" said Harry.
"Danger of what?" said Mr. Kenyon sharply.
"Of the people turning against us and the King."
"Hush! Mind what you are saying, my boy. No; I do not think there is any real danger, and I feel that the best thing for every one is to completely ignore the unpleasant looks we are getting now and then. We are in the right, and I want for our conduct to be such as will gain the respect of the people for our just consideration and honest treatment of them."
"But there is that second king—I say, father, it seems curious for there to be a second king."
"It is the custom of the country, my boy, and in every land there are quaint fashions and I may say parties who are opposed to the ruling power."
"And jealous of the King?"
"Yes, Hal, and of the people he favours."
"That's not pleasant, father," said Hal sharply.
"Not at all," replied Mr. Kenyon. "But I don't think it need trouble us, for we are not arrogant to the people because we are in high favour. I'm sure we do our best, eh, Cameron?"
"That we do," said the doctor heartily. "As for me, I should be a rich man if I charged ordinary fees for what I do."
"Instead of getting disliked," said Mr. Kenyon.
"Oh, but, father," cried Harry, "I know lots of people who almost worship Dr. Cameron for what he has done for them."
"Yes, Hal, and so do I; but unfortunately he offends the native doctors through knowing so much better than they do, and curing patients whom they have condemned to death."
"It's a pity that people will be jealous of those who are more clever."
"It's a natural failing, Hal, my boy," said the doctor, laughing. "But never mind; even those who dislike us are bound to pay us the respect we have earned."
"But you remember what I told you about the people talking in the boat?" said Harry.
"Perfectly."
"You don't think that there will be a revolution, and an attack upon the King and the English people, do you?"
"No, Hal, my boy," said Mr. Kenyon; "I do not, so don't trouble yourself about it. Let's change the conversation. I'm glad you are to have the tiger's skin."
"Yes; I don't think Phra will mind."
"It is a beauty. Was he very hard to kill?"
"Horribly, father;" and with plenty of animation the boy related their adventure.
"We're jealous now, Hal," said the doctor smiling.
"I don't mind that a bit," said the boy. "You must do better, and we two are to come next time you go."
"Well, I suppose so," said Mr. Kenyon gravely. "By the way, Hal, you had the chest of bats and balls. How did you get on? You tried football in the field?"
"Oh, it's a horribly hot, stupid game," said Harry.
"Stupid?" cried the doctor warmly.
"Yes; it's all one or the other. If Phra gets the ball, one does nothing but run after him; and if I get the ball, he has to run after me. And oh! wasn't it hot!"
"When did you play?" said the doctor.
"Oh, in the afternoon."
"You are quite right, my lad," said the doctor drily. "A game at football between two boys with the thermometer standing at over a hundred in the shade, must be a very stupid game indeed."
"Did you ever play it?" said Harry. "I think I've heard you say you did."
"Did I ever play it?" said the doctor scornfully. "I should think I did, and with a couple of good teams. But the thermometer was not at a hundred in the shade, but thirty-five or forty."
"I wish you would play with us next time, Doctor," said Harry eagerly.
"Thank you, my lad, but I would rather be excused."
"Will you show us how to play cricket, then?"
"Yes, but you must get up your two sides. Have you read up anything about it in any book of games and sports?"
"Oh yes, and it says you have eleven and an umpire on each side; but that's nonsense, of course."
"Kenyon," said the doctor with mock solemnity, "do you call this bringing up an English boy properly? It sounds to me quite dreadful. He talks like a young barbarian—as if he had never had any education at all. What did you say, sir?" he continued, turning to Harry.
"What about?"
"There being eleven on a side, and that being nonsense, of course."
"I said so," said Harry, who felt half amused, half annoyed.
"Well, sir, I see that I shall have to take pity on you and young Phra, and try to make up for your neglected education. We shall have to make a cricket club, and petition the King for a cricket ground; but I have my doubts about the game proving popular: the work will be too hard."
"But you will help us, Doctor?"
"Yes, my boy, and I shall prescribe an occasional game for your father. A little exercise will do him good."
"A game of cricket?" said Mr. Kenyon, starting out of a fit of musing. "Why, I haven't had a bat in my hand for twenty years! But I don't know—well, yes—I might. I used to be a very tidy bowler, Cameron, and perhaps my hand may be cunning still at delivering twists. But under this tropical sun? Phew! I'm rather doubtful."
"Never mind the doubts," said the doctor.
"Here, hullo, my boy! where are you going?" cried Mr. Kenyon.
"Only to try and see Phra."
"What! to-night? Nonsense! I daresay he is with his father now, and the news will keep."
Harry looked disappointed, but he said no more, and directly after they had to say good-night to the doctor.
CHAPTER XV
FOR THE JUNGLE, HO!
In due time the skin of the tiger, beautifully dressed, and with the hole made by Sul's tusk so carefully drawn together that the fur concealed the damage, was brought to the bungalow by Sree, who was eager to go upon a fresh expedition; but another week passed away before matters shaped themselves for this to be made.
Matters had gone on as usual, and the insubordinate words used by the occupants of the boat were half forgotten in the excitement of religious fetes and illuminations with lanthorns along the river, kite-flying, and discharges of fireworks, in the making of some of which the people, who had learned the art of the Chinese, were adepts.
These fĂȘtes were wonderfully attractive to the two lads, who joined in the processions for the sake of seeing all they could, the royal boat in which they were rowed being one mass of coloured lanthorns swinging from bamboo frameworks, and the effect with the lights reflected in the glassy water was beautiful in the extreme.
"I should enjoy it all so much more, though," Harry said, "if the people would be contented with the bells and the music. They spoil it all with so much gong."
But the Siamese do not shine in music—at least to English taste.
Phra came down to the bungalow some time or other every day, and as often as not Harry returned with him to the palace; but he rarely saw the King, who appeared to pass a great deal of his time in study.
Not a day passed without the cricket implements being examined in Phra's room. The bats were handled, the balls taken out of their boxes, and sometimes a little throwing from one to the other, and catching was practised.
At another time the pads which had come with the rest of the things were solemnly tried on, and the room promenaded.
"They seem rather stupid things," said Phra. "I think they'd be best for the football."
"So as to save one's legs from kicks?" said Harry. "Yes, they wouldn't be bad for that, but I suppose they're all right."
"We look rather ridiculous in them, though, Hal."
"Yes, I expect we shall be laughed at; but I don't care. The worst thing about them is that they're so jolly hot. Now let's try on the gloves."
These were carefully put on, the boys' countenances being particularly solemn as the long indiarubber guarded fingers were examined.
Then a thought occurred to Harry, and he struck an attitude.
"What do you say to a fight?" he cried. "We can't hurt one another with our legs guarded and our hands in these gloves. Hit me, and I'll hit you."
"No," said Phra shortly; "I don't like fighting in play. It always hurts, and then I get cross, and want to hit as hard as I can. I say, though, we shall be hot in these leggings and gloves."
"Look here," cried Harry; "we haven't seen these before."
"What are they?"
"Gloves, of course, all stuffed and soft. Here, let's look at the book and see what it says about them."
The book of games was examined, but they found no mention of the wicket-keeper's gloves, but plenty of other information which was puzzling.
"It's all very well to call this thing a book of games," said Harry at last, "but there doesn't seem to be much fun in it. It's as puzzling as old Euclid with his circles and straight lines and angles. Here, let's put all the things away. I can't understand. We'll make the doctor show us; that's the easiest way."
And so it was time after time, nothing more being done, for it was decided that there should be no genuine commencement till the doctor was ready, and though he was reminded pretty well every day he always replied that he was not ready yet.
"But there is no occasion to waste time," he said one day. "You boys have the book, so you cannot do better than well study it up, rules and all. Then you will thoroughly know how to play cricket; all you will want is practice."
"We shall have to study up the book, Phra," said Harry, after parting from the doctor, "and I know it's going to be a hard job. But never mind; when you've got to take physic, it's best to swallow it down at once. Come along."
Phra nodded, set his teeth hard, and they went up to the palace through the hot sunshine, to enter its cool precincts and find Phra's room refreshing in its semi-darkness after the glare without, where Harry said it was hot enough to frizzle up the leaves into tea.
The book was brought, cricket turned to, and they sat down side by side with the book on the table.
"Let's begin at the beginning, and go steadily through it," proposed
Phra.
"No, no; we'll just skim it first."
"Very well. What's this—popping grease? Why do they pop grease?"
"'Tisn't! It's popping crease. 'The popping crease must be four feet from the wicket, and exactly parallel with it.' Bother! I shan't read any more of that. Parallel! Why, it's geometry. Look at something else."
"'The wickets must be pitched,'" read Phra.
"What for? To keep off the wet, I suppose. No! It means pitched into the ground, to make them stand up."
"But I say, what a lot there is to learn here, Hal. See what names they call the players by. Here's wicket-keeper."
"That's the one who attends to the gate, I suppose."
"Short slip."
"What's he got to do?"
"I don't know.—Point."
"Oh, he's the man who keeps the stumps sharp."
"No; he must be a good catcher," cried Phra, and he went on, "'Mid wicket—cover point—leg—long stop—long slip—long field off—long field on—changes of position—fielding.'"
"Bother! Never mind about that," said Harry. "Look here; let's read that bit, 'How to defend your wicket!' That ought to be interesting. 'The bifold task of the batsman.'"
Bang went the book, as Harry shut it up.
"What did you do that for?" cried Phra, staring.
"Because it makes me feel so hot and stupid. I want to learn how to play, and that's all puzzles and problems, and what do I care when I go to play a game about parallels and bifolds? It's too hot here to learn cricket from books. I say, what shall we do?"
"Let's go to sleep," said Phra.
"Bah! It's too lazy."
"I don't think so," said Phra. "Every one goes to sleep here in the middle of the day."
"No, they don't. I never do."
"Oh! I've seen you more than once when it has been very hot."
"Well, it was an accident, then. It seems so stupid to go to sleep when it's light. Here, come along out again, and let's try and find old Sree."
"Who's to find him? Why, he may be miles away in the jungle."
"But I want him to arrange about going up a long way in a boat. Let's go up that little river again, and see how far we can get. Look here, I know what we'll do. We'll start as soon as it's light, and take plenty to eat with us, and have the next size larger boat out, with four men to paddle and four to rest, and then we can go right on."
"You'd have Sree?"
"Of course. He knows the way everywhere. He'd take us right up the little rivers that branch off—I mean, where no one goes. There's no knowing what we may find up there."
"No. Sree says there are plenty of wonders; I've often longed to go."
"Then we'll go now. We ought to have done so before. I should like to go for a week," said Harry.
"I don't think our people would like us to go for so long."
"Oh, I don't know. Let's try. I tell you what; let's have a bigger boat, so that we can sleep on board, and a man to cook for us. Then we can live comfortably for a few days. Why, we should get a wonderful lot of things for the museum."
"It would be very nice," said Phra thoughtfully.
"Nice? It would be grand. Here, I shall go home and speak to my father at once."
"Then I'll ask mine."
"He'll say yes, because he'll think he can trust us. I say, Phra, I wish we had thought of this before."
The boys separated, and Harry did not feel the heat as he hurried home to lay his plans before his father.
"For a week?" said Mr. Kenyon, with a look of doubt. "That's a long time, Hal."
"Not for getting a good lot of things, father. You know, whenever we've been up the river before, directly we have begun it has been time to come back."
"Yes," said Mr Kenyon thoughtfully, "and if you were up the jungle river at daybreak you would have far better chances for getting scarce birds, and it would be a most interesting experience for you."
"Then you'll let me go, father?" cried the boy excitedly.