The Sa'-Zada Tales

"Now, Eagle Child was a Stony Indian, and they are like Mountain Sheep in their ability to climb. We had to work our way down carefully to this ledge, helping each other lest we fall, and even when it was reached the yawn of the valley a thousand feet below caused me to tremble. So, cautiously we worked along this narrow path, and, as we rounded the point, to our great fear we saw that we could go no farther – a dead wall stood two hundred feet high in front of us. Slowly, cautiously, we turned our bodies, and went back; and then we saw what we had overlooked in our eagerness for poor old Grizzly's life – we could not get up the way we had come down – we were trapped."

"It's a dreadful feeling," declared Pardus, "to be caught in a Trap – though there were no Men enemies about you, Sa'-zada, to make it worse."

"Or to be shut up in a Keddah," muttered Hathi – "it's awful. To be taken out of one's nice pleasant jungle and led into a Keddah trap with those of the Men-kind trumpeting and calling, and even those of our own tribe, Elephant, taking part against us."

"Was that what made you friend to the Jungle Dwellers, Sa'-zada?" asked Muskwa.

"At the time," answered the Keeper, "I thought only of the dreadful fix we were in. Below, a thousand feet or more, the sharp tops of the spruce and cedar stood like spears – "

"I've felt a spear in my shoulder, ugh, ugh! it drives one fair mad with fear and pain," grunted Boar.

"Under our feet was a narrow ledge of rock not the width of Hathi's back; behind us, and on either side of us, the cliffs ran up hundreds of feet. On the upper peak of the Camel's Back a snowstorm was shutting out the last grey light of day – the darkness of night was fast coming on. I could see nothing for it but to stand perfectly straight with our backs to the rock wall all through the bitter night and talk to each other to keep sleep away. The next day our comrades might find us, and let down a rope to help us up."

"You could also think in the night of how we feel, O Little Brother, when we are hunted," declared Pardus. "Even perhaps Grizzly with his broken leg had to lie on some rock, afraid to travel in the night lest he fall."

"Yes, it was a good time to think of the troubles of Jungle Dwellers," concurred Hathi.

"I thought of many things," said the Keeper, softly; "and but for Eagle Child I fear I should have fallen a dozen times; I felt his hand on my arm more than once pressing me against the wall. But at last morning came. I never felt so cold in my life, for, you see, we dared not move about. But it was noon before I saw my two comrades riding up the valley looking for us.

"Eagle Child called, 'Hi, yi, yi – oh, yi!' The rocks threw his voice far out, and they heard it. It took them a long time to climb up to the place from where we had descended. They had brought their lassos with them, for they knew that we were cut off; and soon, but with much cautious labor, we were safe."

"And what of Grizzy?" asked Muskwa, solicitously.

"I hope he, too, got away all right," answered Sa'-zada, "for I never saw him again – we did not follow him."

"I think Wie-sah-ke-chack led you to that place, Little Master, to give Grizzly a chance for his life," commented Mooswa.

"I like our Master's story," declared Hathi; "so often I've heard the Sahibs boasting of the Animals they have killed, but Sa'-zada tells only of the times fear came to him because of his wrong-doing."

"That happening was of Greybeard, and he is but a cousin of mine," complained Muskwa the Black Bear. "Did you never meet with my family, Little Master?"

"If you insist upon it, Muskwa," answered the Keeper, "I might tell a little tale of your people."

"I should like that – do," pleaded Black Bear; "in all the stories there has been nothing of our doing."

"But they were also only relatives of yours, though they were black, for the happening was in India, and there they are called Bhalu the Bear. And the happening was not of my doing, either, for I was hunting Bagh, the Tiger."

"Every hunter takes me for a choice," growled Raj Bagh.

"But this was a bad Tiger," declared Sa'-zada; "he had killed many people."

"And what of that – Waugh-houk! what of that, Little Master?" demanded Raj Bagh. "Have not many people killed many of my kind – are they not always killing us?"

"Still the Little Master is right," objected Hathi. "If a Bull Elephant becomes Rogue, and, neglecting his proper eating which is in the Jungle, goes seeking to kill the Men-kind, does he not surely come into trouble?"

"But we be flesh eaters and slayers of life," answered Raj Bagh.

"Even so, though that were better otherwise, but do you not know of your own people that the Men-kind are not for Kill? Before all other Dwellers of the Jungle you stand forth and are ready to battle, but just the scent of Man causes you to slink away like Jaruk the Hyena."

"I think that is true," commented Mooswa. "Wie-sah-ke-chack has arranged all that."

Said the Keeper: "It is not right to kill the animals as men do, for sport, but when Bagh, or any other Jungle Dweller, turns Man-eater, he should die."

"And Sher Abi, too," squeaked Magh; "his tribe are all Man-eaters – they should be all killed."

"At any rate," continued the Keeper, "I was after this Man-eater. I had a machan built in a Pipal tree, and a Buffalo calf tied up near it – "

"One of your young, Arna," said Bagh, vindictively.

"And early in the evening I climbed into my machan and prepared for Mister Stripes."

"That's Man's way," sneered Raj Bagh. "What chance have we against them up in a machan? No chance; and they call that sport."

"And what chance has a village woman against a big-fanged Tiger?" grunted Boar. "No chance. It seems to me there are few in the Jungle as decent as Hathi and myself; we meddle not with the Men."

"Just before dark," continued Sa'-zada, "I heard a noise coming through the Khir bushes. 'Bagh comes early,' I thought to myself."

"He must have been hungry to scent a kill before dark," muttered Raj Bagh.

"He smelt a man and thought it a good chance to commit murder," sneered Magh.

"It wasn't Tiger at all," said the Keeper, "but three noisy Black Bears – Bhalu the Bear. I thought they would soon pass, for they do not meddle much with cattle."

"No, we are not throat cutters like Bagh," whuffed Muskwa.

"But they seemed in an inquisitive mood. Now, the calf was tied to the foot of a toddy palm, and they looked at him as much as to say, 'What are you doing here?'"

"I would have explained matters to them had I been there," exclaimed Arna, shaking his head. "A poor Calf!"

"No doubt they meant to help him out of his trouble," volunteered Muskwa.

"Presently one of them proceeded to climb the toddy palm, and I thought they were looking for me perhaps. On the tree was a jar the natives had put there for catching the toddy liquor; and you can imagine my surprise, Comrades, when I saw Bhalu take a big drink out of this. When he came down one of his comrades went up. There were half-a-dozen toddy trees there, and the Bears helped themselves to the toddy until in the end they became very drunk."

"I know how that feels," said Oungea the Water Monkey; "have I not told you, Comrades, of the gin my Master – "

"Caw-w-w, caw-w-w!" interrupted Crow. "I also know of that condition. I ate some cherries once that had been thrown from a bungalow in Calcutta, and they made my head wobble so I couldn't fly. A Sahib stood in the door and laughed and said I was drunk."

"The cherries had been in brandy, I suppose," explained Sa'-zada. "But Bhalu was most unmistakably drunk. They wanted to play with the Calf, but he became frightened and bawled. I could see there was small chance of a visit from Bagh with three drunken Bears and a bellowing Calf at the foot of my tree."

"This is a nice story, Muskwa," sneered Magh. "I'm so glad to hear of your people and their ways."

"Only cousins of mine," declared Muskwa, "and called Bhalu."

"All Bears are alike," snapped Coyote; "meddlesome thieves."

"They steal little Pigs," added Boar.

"They wouldn't go away," said Sa'-zada, "and I began to fear that I shouldn't get a shot at Stripes. I did not want to shoot, because if Tiger was anywhere in the neighborhood it would put an end to his visit. I had nothing heavy to throw at them except my water-bottle; but, finally, taking a long drink to keep the thirst away for a time, I stood up in the machan and let fly the bottle. It caught the Bear just behind the ear, and Bhalu, thinking one of his comrades had hurt him, pitched into the other two, and there was a fierce three-cornered fight on in a minute."

"I can swear that it is a true tale," barked Gidar, "for twice I've seen a family of Bhalu's people in just such a stupid fight. Not that they were possessed of toddy, for they are silly enough at all times. But it is known in the Jungle that when Bhalu is wounded, he fights with the first one he sees, even his own brother, thinking he has done him the harm."

"One chap got the worst of the encounter and reeled off into the Jungle, the other two following. I could hear them wrangling and snarling for a long distance – all the world like a party of drunken sailors."

"These Bear stories are just lovely," grinned Magh. "Aren't they, Muskwa?"

"Did you kill Bagh, the Man-eater?" asked Muskwa, to change the subject.

"Yes, I stopped his murderous career that night," answered Sa'-zada. "He was an evil animal and deserved to die. Now it is late and you must all go to your cages."

"I'm glad your people had a chance to be heard from, Muskwa," lisped Magh as she slid down Hathi's trunk. "You always looked so terribly respectable and honest, that I was really afraid to speak to you."

"Phrut, phrut!" muttered Hathi through his trunk; "I have lived for a matter of forty years or so, amongst the Jungle Dwellers and with the Men-kind, and I think that we are all alike, all having some good and some bad qualities."

THE END