Jungle and Stream: or, The Adventures of Two Boys in Siam

"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.