Bengal Dacoits and Tigers - Part 6
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Part 6

Now a mighty roar shook the jungles and Bose realised that the tiger had leapt upon the roof of the palki and was scratching furiously at it. Bose clutched the handles of the doors and held on to them with the grip of despair. The tiger scratched and growled and finally bounded off the top and began a vigorous a.s.sault upon the side. The palki toppled over on to its other side. Poor Bose congratulated himself that now one of the doors rested upon Mother Earth and he could give his whole energy to defending the other. He gripped the handles with renewed determination and waited.

The tiger had sustained a shock at seeing the unknown monster he was tackling roll over, and for a time satisfied himself by growling savagely. But as the monster lay still "Stripes" tried the experiment of a sharp blow with his paw. The palki rested on uneven ground and the blow made it rock. The tiger waited awhile; and when the rocking had subsided administered another stroke. The palki rocked again. The situation now developed into a game between the huge cat and the palki. When he slapped the palki rocked; and when the palki ceased vibrating the tiger slapped again. Inside the palki, the Inspector held on to the handles of the door and prayed for deliverance.

At last the tiger, wearied of the game and purring loudly, walked away. Bose breathed more freely but knew not if the danger was past. There he lay gripping the handles of the door and wishing for daylight. At last the dawn broke and with the first rays of light courage returned to the bearers and servants, who were hiding in the branches of the surrounding trees. They called to each other, expressing anxiety as to their master's fate. Finally, as the daylight grew stronger they encouraged each other to descend and approach the palki.

As they examined it with wonder some very cutting remarks from within a.s.sured them of their master's existence, and with many apologies for the abrupt way in which they had abandoned him they righted the palki and a.s.sisted him out.

The journey was soon resumed and Bose had the satisfaction of arresting the murderer in spite of his ill-timed adventure and forced delay.

An a.s.sam Adventure

Some years ago, an English baron came out to India to enjoy some tiger shooting. He received invitations to many Native States, and was having a right royal time. In the course of his wanderings he came to a.s.sam. In those days, the jungles of a.s.sam swarmed with tigers but a "man-eater" was very rarely known there.

Sir M. was in a small camp with just two or three other guns, and all were hopeful of "bagging" a tiger, for the roaring of the lords of the jungle could be heard almost every night. The tents had been pitched on the bank of a river and all round the camp and on the opposite bank was heavy jungle. Wild animals abounded in these jungles and the camp servants did not appreciate the site. No sooner had the Sahebs finished their dinner than the servants disappeared into their tents, and securing themselves within, as strongly as they could, devoutly hoped that the morning light would find them still alive and unharmed.

One evening Sir M. retired to his own tent immediately after dinner. He was very tired but as he was not sleepy, he made himself comfortable and settled down on a long-sleeved chair with a book. His tent was a small one, with a camp cot, a couple of chairs and a table. On the table stood a reading lamp. M. was soon absorbed in his book and did not notice how the hours fled. The camp became quiet and still. It was a dark close night and the door of his tent stood open, for he was a lover of air. He had read on for some time when his attention was drawn to a movement of his tent wall. It seemed to him as if some one or something was rubbing along the side. He put down his book and got on to his feet to see what it could be. As he was about to step forward the head of a tiger loomed in the doorway, the eyes gleaming brightly. Sir M. stood motionless with surprise and "Stripes"

stepped into the tent. He was a fine specimen of a Royal Bengal tiger, and M. forgot everything in his admiration of the n.o.ble animal.

The table with the lamp upon it stood between Sir M. and the tiger, and each stood on either side of it gazing at each other. As the silent seconds pa.s.sed, Sir M. realized that he was in danger and bethought him of his rifle which was almost within reach of his hand; but he dared not move and so continued gazing steadfastly at his visitor. The tiger too stood, surveying his vis-a-vis and then began to move round the table. The lamp either attracted or annoyed him and he raised his paw to the table. The weight of the huge paw tilted the table, the lamp toppled and fell with a crash. The terrified tiger gave a mighty roar, turned tail and fled.

The camp was aroused. Everyone shouted and rushed out into the night, armed with some weapon or other. Sir M. related to his brother guns what had happened and they all enjoyed a good laugh and rather envied him for the fine sight he had of such a superb specimen of the kings of the jungle.

A Thrilling Story

One evening, in a.s.sam, a young Englishman was driving along a lonely jungle road. He wished to visit a neighbouring Saheb; and though his servants had warned him that tigers had been frequently seen on that particular road, he had laughed at their fears and told them that the only tiger to be feared was a "man-eater", and that there were no "man-eating" tigers about that district. As usual in the mofussil of India, he was going out to dine and sleep, and his bearer had put up his clothes and his suit case was stowed into the dog-cart.

The road was a good one and considerably wide, for it was the main thoroughfare in the district and along it tea, jute and all other agricultural products were transported to the river for export to other districts of India and also to Europe. Nevertheless it was bordered on either side by dense jungle, and there were few villages in its vicinity. After sunset it was a road little frequented by villagers and it had the reputation of being tiger-haunted.

There was no moon and, as B. had not started much before sunset, darkness soon overtook him on the road. As he had no syce with him he got down to light the trap-lamps and jumped in and drove on again very cheerily. He was not far from where he must turn off the main road to the narrow one leading to his friend's estate, when the pony suddenly took fright at something and bolted. At first B. tried to pull the animal up; but its erect ears and wild snorting showed him that there was cause for alarm. He looked over his shoulder and in the dim starlight discerned the bulk of some animal in pursuit of them. An eerie feeling came over him and he wondered what was going to happen. He sat tight in his seat and let the pony race on. The chase continued and the pony began to show signs of collapse. It was evidently being overcome by fear and, in spite of all B.'s urging, could not keep up the pace, and the pursuing animal gained upon them. B. had just determined to leap from the cart when the pony tripped and fell and B. was shot out of the cart. He fell into the long gra.s.s on the side of the road, and had barely collected himself when a dark form sprang upon the pony.

The poor animal neighed with fear but kicked and fought its foe. B. rolled down the side of the road and began to crawl away through the jungle as fast as he could. Long gra.s.s and th.o.r.n.y brambles grew on either side of the road and as it was the dry season every movement of his made a crackling and rustling; and often he fancied he heard an animal in pursuit of him, or he would imagine he was about to meet one coming through the jungle towards him. He pressed on as fast as he could, sometimes crawling and sometimes walking, and at last he saw the glimmer of lights and came to some huts. He shouted to the inmates who came to his a.s.sistance.

When they discovered a Saheb in such a plight they were full of concern, helped him to their huts, gave him hot milk to drink and washed his wounds. His clothes were torn and his hands and knees bleeding from his flight through the th.o.r.n.y jungle. The sympathising villagers emptied a hut for him to rest in, and when morning came escorted him to the scene of his mishap.

The mangled remains of his poor pony told him that the wild animal had been a very famished tiger. B. returned to his own bungalow a wiser man, and told his servants that, had he taken their advice, he would not have suffered such an adventure or the loss of his pony. He rewarded the villagers for their kindness and hospitality and for a long time his escape was the talk of the district.

A Cachar Tiger

In the province of a.s.sam lies a fertile and picturesque valley called Cachar. Shut in on north, south and east by lofty hills, this valley remained hidden for centuries and was never conquered by any of the Mahommedan rulers of India.

Here a race of aboriginal kings held sway, and it was the East India Company who first became masters of this hilly corner of Bengal. In 1830, the last of the old Cachari kings died without heir, and "Company Bahadoor" took possession of the little kingdom.

In 1855, the discovery of the tea-plant, growing wild in the jungles, opened out a new industry, and soon the low-lying hills, knolls and undulating plains of the little valley became gradually clear of jungle, and covered instead with row after row of carefully-kept and trim tea bushes. To-day acres upon acres of tea are grown in Cachar; and the inland steamers, which ply all through the rainy season up and down the wide-rolling stream of the river Barak, bring down for export millions of pounds of tea for the "cheering cup".

Cachar is rich in forests, and tigers and other wild animals are there in plenty. During the monsoon the jungle animals retreat to the higher levels of the forest-clad hills. But when the rains abate they begin to gradually descend; and when the great "h.o.a.rs" or fenlands dry up at the approach of the cold season, numerous tigers take up their winter haunts in the patches of jungle, which grow here and there in the marsh lands, and in the forests which often surround or separate the tea gardens.

It was cold-weather time about forty years ago, and four planters sat talking after dinner in the Manager's bungalow on a tea garden in Cachar. We will call them M., B., C. and H.

The bungalow, like many bungalows in tea districts, stood on a high hill, the steep sides of which had been terraced and planted with tea. On adjacent but lower hills stood the factory and coolie lines. Everything was quiet and lay wrapped in a heavy fog.

In the verandah near the steps sat the bungalow chowkidar (watchman). The charity of the Tea Company had provided him and his fellow-coolies with blankets. And he wore his in the usual pachim (North-West Provinces) style: one end of the blanket is pleated and tied closely with a piece of string, the short part above the cord forming a tuft. The wearer pulls the pleated end of the blanket over his head, the tuft resting on his crown. The sides of the blanket are drawn round the body, and thus the blanket is made to form both a hood and a cloak, in which the wearer hugs himself against the inclemency of the weather.

The chowkidar sat on his mat huddled up in his blanket, droning one of the time-honoured bhajans (hymns) of India.

Presently he disappeared and, next, piercing yells rent the mist-laden atmosphere. The four Sahebs were in the verandah in a trice, and soon discovered the chowkidar returning to the verandah, visibly shaken and without his blanket.

"What is the matter, and who shouted?" asked the Manager.

"Saheb," the chowkidar replied in a quavering voice "a tiger sprang on me and caught the knot of my blanket."

"Here!" interrupted the four Englishmen incredulously.

"Yes, Huzoor (Your Honour), as I sat here against this post the tiger came, seized the knot of my blanket and began to pull. Like lightning I made my plan. I grasped with a strong tight hold the sides of the blanket and holding myself together like a ball I let Lord Tiger pull. He dragged me to the edge of the tila (hill). There I suddenly let go the blanket and shouted with all my might. The tiger fell over, down the hill, and is gone."

Sure enough, there were the foot-marks of the tiger, the mark of the drag, and the signs of where "Stripes" had slipped over and down the terrace.

The tiger had been harrying the coolies for some time and a rumour had got about that he was a man-eater. It was pretty certain that he would come again the next night; so the planters determined to sit up and shoot him.

On the following night after dinner M. B. C. and H. took their positions on the verandah. Each had his loaded gun and all waited patiently for the tiger. Time pa.s.sed. It was weary work and they dozed.

M.'s dog had wandered off to the kitchen as usual after dinner. After some time it returned hurriedly and ran up the steps of the verandah, barking in a frightened manner. The dog's barking woke the four men. B. sat first near the steps and H. not far from him in a dining-room chair.

The dog ran into the dining-room and hid himself under the table and everything again became quiet, and the men waited. Suddenly a hoa.r.s.e cry paralysed three of them. "He's on me. Shoot."

The tiger had come up on to the verandah and springing at B. caught him by the arm. Then, releasing the arm, he made a spring at his victim's throat. B. was instantly on his feet and, as the tiger essayed his throat, he rammed his clenched fist into the animal's mouth. The tiger shook the man's fist out of its mouth and made another attempt to reach his throat. B. repeated his manoeuvre. This happened three or four times.

In the meantime the other three men dared not shoot for fear of missing the ferocious cat and killing their comrade. H. had the presence of mind to swiftly fix his bayonet, and, rushing towards the tiger, he thrust it in the animal's side, firing as he did so. The tiger fell backwards off the verandah mortally wounded, but to the amazement of the Sahebs struggled tip and made another attempt to get at B. He was however too badly wounded and fell back dead.

B.'s hand and arm were terribly mauled, and after medical treatment he had to go home on long leave.

A Maharajah's Adventures

A Maharajah of Bengal who became a noted sportsman shot his first tiger when he was quite a small boy. When about twelve years of age he went out on a shoot one cold weather on his estate. He was accompanied by some of his relatives, and they encamped in one of the forest bungalows. This bungalow was just an ordinary a.s.sam house built on a chang or raised platform. It consisted of a large centre room with a bedroom on either side and a deep verandah in the front, where the servants slept at night. Under large trees, some little distance away, the elephants were chained, and not far off were stables for the horses.

The Maharajah shared his room with a friend, a lad about two years older than himself. One night between ten and eleven o'clock, when all were in bed and asleep after a tiring day and an early dinner, the near roaring of a tiger awakened the camp. In a twinkling the servants had transferred themselves and their bedding from the verandah into the centre room and securely bolted the door. Roar after roar sounded through the night, but the young Maharajah slept the healthful and deep sleep of tired childhood and the mighty voice of the lord of the jungle did not disturb him. His friend was awakened by the majestic sound and lay trembling with fear; envying his blissfully unconscious companion, until the nearness of the tiger broke down his self-control and, vigorously shaking his bed-fellow, he shouted in his ear: "Tiger, tiger!"

The young Maharajah awoke, yawned, stretched and listened. The roaring had ceased but under the bungalow they could hear the purring of a tiger as it rubbed itself against a post. The younger and fearless boy laughed with glee and a.s.sured his friend that there was no danger of the tiger getting into the bungalow, and that on the morrow they would be easily able to track and shoot it. Soon the sounds of purring and rubbing gave place to others, and the occupants of the bungalow realised that more than one tiger played beneath them. Next day in the jungle near the forest bungalow the party shot a couple of tigers, a tigress and her cubs.

In later years the Maharajah became famous for his shoots and many and varied were his adventures and experiences. One year he was in camp with a large party and they were out one afternoon after buffaloes. A fine bull was driven out of a patch of thick jungle and faced the guns with defiance in his eyes. He was a grand target and the Maharajah's finger ached to pull his trigger, but courtesy forbade him and he generously, as always, left the fine prize for his guests. But, one after another, each missed his shot and the n.o.ble bull charged past into thicker jungle. As the line of guns attempted to follow, one of them spied a leopard up on a tree looking thoroughly scared. This animal had evidently been disturbed by the commotion in the forest and had been so terrified that it had climbed into a tree for shelter; and there, on a branch, poor "Spots" fell an easy prey to the sportsmen.