The sun went down and darkness settled on the forest. The talk died away and no sound was heard but the soft padding of their elephant's huge feet in the dust of the road. The subaltern soon found the _howdah_ infinitely more trying than a seat on the pad when Badshah was in motion; for the plunging gait of the animal jerked him backwards and forwards and threw him against the wooden rails if he forgot to hold himself at arm's length from them. The discomfort spoiled his appreciation of the strange, attractive experience of being borne by night through the sleepless forest, where in the dark hours only the bird and the monkey repose; and even to them the creeping menace of the climbing snake affrights the one and the wheeling shapes of the night-flying birds of prey scare the other. But on the ground all are awake. The glimmering whiteness of the road was occasionally blotted by the scurrying forms of animals, hunted and hunters, dashing across it.

Once a tiny shriek in the distance broke the silence of the jungle.

"A wild elephant," said Colonel Dermot.

Then followed the loud crashing of rending boughs and falling trees.

"That's a herd feeding. They graze until about ten o'clock and then sleep on well into the small hours, wake and begin to feed again at dawn," continued the Political Officer.

Once a wild, unearthly wailing cry that seemed to come from every direction at once startled the subaltern:

"Good Heavens! what's that?" he exclaimed, gripping his rifle and trying to pierce the darkness around them.

"Only a Giant Owl," was the reply. "It's an uncanny noise. There!"

Right over their heads it rang out again; and the stars above them were blotted out for a moment by a dark, circling shape above the tree-tops.

Hour after hour went by as they were borne along through the night; and Wargrave bruised and battered by the _howdah_-rails, fell constantly against them, so overcome with sleep was he. At last to his relief his companion called a halt for a few hours' rest; and they brought the elephant to his knees, dismounted and stripped him of _howdah_ and pad.

Sitting on the latter they supped on sandwiches and coffee from Thermos flasks, and then stretched themselves to sleep, while Badshah standing over them grazed on the gra.s.ses and branches within reach. Wargrave was dropping off to sleep when he was roused by the sharp, _staccato_ bark of a _khakur_ buck repeated several times. The tired man lost consciousness and was sunk in profound slumber when the silence of the forest was shattered by a snorting, braying roar that rang through the jungle with alarming suddenness.

Wargrave sprang up and groped for his rifle. But his companion lay tranquilly on the pad.

"It's all right. It's only a tiger that's missed his spring and is angry about it," he said sleepily. "Lie down again."

"Only a tiger, sir?" repeated Wargrave. "But it sounded close by."

"Yes, but Badshah will look after us. Don't worry"; and the Colonel turned over and fell asleep.

It was a little time, however, before Frank followed his example, and he had his rifle under his hand when he did. But the dark bulk of the elephant towering over them comforted him as he sank to sleep.

A couple of hours later they were on their way again. It was broad daylight before they emerged from the jungle. It seemed strange to be out once more in the wide-stretching, open and cultivated plains and to look back on the great forest and, beyond it, to the mountains towering to the sky. Before them lay the flat expanse of the hedgeless, fertile fields dotted here and there with cl.u.s.ters of trimly-built huts or thick groves of bamboos and seamed with the lines of deep _nullahs_, the tops of the trees in them barely showing above the level and marking their winding course.

The _dak_ bungalow at Madpur Duar was soon reached, a single-storied building with a couple of trees shading the well behind it and a group of elephants and their _mahouts_. On the verandah Benson and his daughter were standing, the girl dressed in a khaki drill coat and skirt over breeches and soft leather gaiters, and waving a welcome to Badshah's riders.

After a hurried breakfast the latter were ready to start for the day's sport. By then a line of ten female elephants, the tallest carrying a _howdah_, the rest only their pads, was drawn up before the bungalow; and at a word from their _mahouts_ their trunks went up in the air and the animals trumpeted in salute as the party came out on the verandah.

"We borrowed Mr. Carter's and the Settlement Officer's elephants for the beat," said Miss Benson, as, wearing a big pith sunhat and carrying a double-barrelled .400 cordite rifle, she led the way down the verandah steps.

It had been arranged that she was to take Wargrave with her in her _howdah_, while her father accompanied Colonel Dermot on Badshah. Her big elephant knelt down and a ladder was laid against its side, up which she climbed, followed by the subaltern. When all were mounted she led the way across the plain. Although the ground was everywhere level and just there uncultivated the elephants tailed off in single file as is the habit of their kind, wild or domesticated, each stepping with precise care into the footprints of the one in front of it. Here in the Plains the heat was intense; and Wargrave, shading his eyes from the blinding glare, thought enviously of the coolness up in the mountains that he had left. As they moved along Muriel explained to him how the beat was to be conducted.

Where the southern fringe of the Terai Jungle borders the cultivated country it is a favourite haunt of tigers, which from its shelter carry on war against the farmers' cattle. Creeping down the ravines seaming the soft soil and worn by the streams that flow through the forest from the hills they pull down the cows grazing or coming to drink in the _nullahs_, which are filled with small trees and scrubs affording good cover. A tiger, when it has killed, drags the carcase of its prey into shade near water, eats a hearty meal of about eighty pounds of flesh, drinks and then sleeps until it is ready to feed again. If disturbed it retreats up the ravine to the forest.

So, beating for one with elephants here, the sportsmen place themselves on their _howdah_-bearing animals between the jungle and the spot where the tiger is known to be lying up, and the beater elephants enter the scrub from the far side and shepherd him gently towards the guns.

Pointing to a distant line of tree-tops showing above the level plain she said:

"There is the _nullah_ in which, about a mile farther on, a cow was killed yesterday. I hope the tiger is still lying up in it. We'll soon see."

They reached the ravine, which was twenty or thirty feet deep and contained a little stream flowing through tangled scrub, and moved along parallel to it and about a couple of hundred yards away. Presently the girl pointed to a tall tree growing in it and a quarter of a mile ahead of them. Its upper branches were bending under the weight of numbers of foul-looking bald-headed vultures, squawking, huddled together, jostling each other on their perches and pecking angrily at their neighbours with irritable cries. Some circled in the air and occasionally swooped down towards the ground only to rocket up again affrightedly to the sky; for the tiger lay by its kill and resented the approach of any daring bird that aspired to share the feast. Muriel hurriedly explained how the conduct of the birds indicated the beast's presence.

"If he were not there they'd be down tearing the carcase to pieces," she said, as she held up her hand and halted the file behind her.

"The beater elephants had better stop here, Colonel," she called out to Dermot. "There is a way down and across the _nullah_, by which you can take Badshah to the far side. We will remain on this."

The Political Officer, who had seen and realised the significance of the vultures, waved his hand and moved off at once. Muriel called up the _mahouts_ and bade them enter the ravine and begin the beat in about ten minutes, then told her driver to go on. Half a mile beyond the tree she ordered him to halt and take up a position close to the edge of the _nullah_, into which they could look down. Below them the bottom was clear of scrub which ended fifty yards away. Dermot stopped opposite; and both elephants were turned to face towards the spot where the tiger was judged to be.

"Mr Wargrave, get to the front of the _howdah_ and be ready," she said in a low tone.

The subaltern protested chivalrously against taking the best place.

"Oh, it's all right. We've brought you out to get the tiger; so you must do as you're told. If he breaks out this side take the first shot," she said peremptorily.

He submitted and took up his position with c.o.c.ked rifle. As the _nullah_ wound a good deal the tops of the trees in it prevented them from seeing if the beater-elephants had gone in; but in a few minutes they heard distant shouts and the crashing of the undergrowth as the big animals forced their way through the scrub.

"Be ready, Mr. Wargrave," whispered the girl. "Sometimes a tiger starts on the run at the first sound."

His nerves a-quiver and his heart beating violently the subaltern held his rifle at the ready, as the noise of the beaters drew nearer. Again and again he brought the b.u.t.t to his shoulder, only to lower it when he realised that it was a false alarm. The sounds of the beat grew louder and closer, and still there was no sign of the tiger. Frank's heart sank. He saw the vultures stir uneasily and some rise into the air as the elephants pa.s.sed under them.

At last through the trees he began to catch occasional glimpses of the _mahouts_, and he lost hope. But suddenly from the scrub below them in the _nullah_ a number of small birds flew up; and the next instant the edge of the bushes nearest them was parted stealthily and a tiger slunk cautiously out in the bottom of the ravine.

Wargrave's rifle went up to his shoulder; and he fired. A startled roar from the beast told that it was. .h.i.t; but it bounded in a flash across the ravine and up the steep bank on their side not forty yards from them. As it scrambled swiftly over the edge it caught sight of the elephant and with a deep "wough!" charged straight at it.

Frank fired again, and his bullet struck up the dust, missing the swift-rushing animal by a couple of feet. The next moment with a roar the tiger sprang at the elephant. With one leap it landed with its hind paws on the elephant's head, its fore-feet on the front rail of the _howdah_, standing right over the _mahout_ who crouched in terror on the neck. The savage, snarling, yellow-and-black mask was thrust almost into Wargrave's face, and from the open red mouth lined with fierce white fangs he could feel the hot breath on his cheek as he tugged frantically at the under-lever of his rifle to open the breech and re-load. In another moment the tiger would have been on top of them in the _howdah_ when a gun-barrel shot past the subaltern and pushed him aside. The muzzle of Muriel's rifle was pressed almost against the brute's skull as she fired.

Frank hardly heard the report. All he knew was that the snarling face disappeared as quickly as it had come. The whole thing was an affair of seconds. Shot through the brain the tiger dropped back to the ground with a heavy thud and fell dead beside the staunch elephant which had never moved all through the terrible ordeal.

A cry of relief and a prayer to Allah burst from the grey-bearded Mahommedan _mahout_, as he straightened himself; and Wargrave turned with glowing face and outstretched hand to the girl.

"Oh, well done! Splendidly done!" he cried. "You saved me from being lugged bodily out of the _howdah_ or at least from being mauled. This lever jammed and I couldn't re-load."

Her eyes shining and face beaming with excitement she shook his hand.

"Wasn't it thrilling? I thought he'd have got both of us." Then to the _mahout_ she continued in Urdu, "Gul Dad, are you hurt?"

The man was solemnly feeling himself all over. He stared at a rent in the shoulder of his coat, torn by the tiger's claw. It was the only injury that he had suffered. He put his finger on it and grumbled:

"Missie-_baba_, the _shaitan_ (devil) has torn my coat."

In the reaction from the strain the girl and Wargrave went off in peals of laughter at his words.

"But are you not wounded?" Miss Benson repeated. "Has it not clawed you?"

The _mahout_ shook his head.

"No, missie-_baba_; but it was my new coat," he insisted.[1]

[1] A similar incident occurred in real life near Alipur Duar in Eastern Bengal to a lady and an officer on a female elephant named Dundora during a beat. But in this case it was the man that killed the tiger with his second rifle when it was standing on the elephant's head with its fore-paws on the _howdah_-rail. I can personally testify to Dundora's immobility when facing a charging tiger.--THE AUTHOR.

Frank looked down at the tiger stretched motionless on the yellow gra.s.s.