CHAPTER THE ELEVENTH--Rhinoceros and Lions
"I'm jolly glad you're back, old man," said Ferrier, as John marched inone day at the head of his safari. "Began to think you were lost. Howdid you get on?"
"Splendidly," said John, cheerful after his quick journey home. "Thatis, pretty well; in fact" (as his memory and his sense of veracityawoke) "I had the rottenest time I ever had in my life. That sounds abit of a muddle, I know, but I'll tell you all about it presently. Howhave things been going here?"
"Splendidly: that is, pretty well; and I'm glad you're back in time toprevent me from having the rottenest time I've ever had in my life. It'sjust short of that at present."
"What! Have those blackguards been bothering you?"
"Worse! Lions!"
"Oh! Is that it? I don't know that they're worse than the natives,though."
"Yes, they are, because it doesn't come to a fair stand-up fight.They're cowardly, skulking brutes, and so disgustingly clever."
John laughed at Ferrier's aggrieved tone and look.
"Well, I'll get a bath and a feed, and then we'll talk it over," hesaid. "I hope our people have behaved well?"
"Oh yes! Lulu has been a mother to me--at a distance, of course; andSaid Mohammed has been a delight three times a day. But go and get yourbath; you'll stand here talking for ever."
Half-an-hour later John, having changed into a suit of white drill, wassitting at table with Ferrier in the little dining-room of the bungalow.It struck him as rather bare and cold-looking after Mr. Gillespie'scomfortable rooms, and he resolved, if things went well the second year,to buy a few bits of furniture.
"It wants a woman, you know," said Ferrier. "She'd rig up some curtainsand make things look cheerful in no time. But you'll never get a womanto live among lions."
"Verree true, sir--excuse the liberty," remarked Said Mohammed, as hehanded the fish. "A lion among ladies is a most dreadful thing; forthere is not a more fearful wild-fowl than your lion living."
"That's how he goes on," said Ferrier, exploding when the Bengali hadgone for the joint. "That's Shakespeare; next time it'll be Milton."
"Did Shakespeare write that rubbish about the wild-fowl?"
"Why, that's the excellent Nick Bottom in _Midsummer Night's Dream_!"
"Never read it: we only did _Julius Caesar_ and _Henry V_. But tell mewhat's happened."
"Nothing, for three weeks, except rain. My word, didn't it come down!I'm sorry to say some of the sheep died until we thought of coveringthem up at night. But a week ago I heard a lion roaring in the night,and in the morning a calf was gone. Last night it was two sheep. Theboma's not a bit of good to keep them out. Why don't you put up somewire fencing?"
"It's expensive, but I will by and by."
"The lion got clear away the first time, but last night I was roused bythe commotion among the animals, and managed to get a shot as he wasslinking off: it was bright moonlight. I'm afraid I missed: my rightarm isn't fit for much even yet. I wanted Bill to go and hunt him withme; but he wouldn't. I suppose he won't visit us again now you've comeback: Coja said he's sure the lion's an afreet, which is devil, Isuppose, and knows when the coast is clear."
"I rather fancy he finds other game scarce in this rainy weather. It'smuch easier to break into the boma than to hunt game in the open, and Iexpect now that he's tasted blood again and got back his confidence weshall have some more trouble. We shall have to tackle him."
"If you excuse me, sir," put in Said Mohammed, so respectfully that Johncould not resent the indiscretion, "I will tell you of the machinationsof my prophetic soul my uncle. He has a small property in theSunderbunds; choice site, excellent amenities, et cetera. There lurksthe tiger, tiger burning bright. In my childhood innocence I residedwith my avuncular relative, and he being a great shikari I saw some A1sport. I should esteem it a privilege to be allowed to give you a legup in hunting the abominable creature. The sahibs in general havederogatory opinion of us Bengalis; but I am a Socialist, gentlemen, inso far as believing in equality of chances, and I am cocksure that ifonly I get a look in I shall prove to demonstration that I am full ofboth grit and beans."
"All right, khansaman, I'll give you a rifle and you shall come with uswhen we go after the beast. It may be rather exciting."
"A regular beano," said Ferrier, sotto voce. "But I want to hear allabout your droving, Halliday."
John gave him a running account of his experiences, which were moreamusing in retrospect than in actuality. They spent the rest of the dayin going over the farm together. John was very well pleased with thesigns of progress he saw everywhere. The sheep and cattle lookedhealthy; the second crops were in good condition; and the only failuresamong all the vegetables he had planted were the onions and artichokes,which had produced too much stalk and gave no indication of fruiting.
That night a lion broke in and carried off a ram. John was too late toget a shot at the beast, and next day was too much occupied about thefarm to go in search of it. But when Wasama came in with the sheep,somewhat earlier than usual, and reported that he had seen a black-manedlion with his mate on the edge of the bush, John determined to go outafter them at once. It was the first time lions had been seen by day,and this sign of growing boldness convinced him that it was high time toattempt reprisals. He was accompanied by Ferrier and Said Mohammed withtwo of the Baganda, but by the time they reached the bush the lions haddisappeared, leaving, however, a trace of their depredations in thefreshly-picked bones of the stolen sheep. Roars were again heard atnight, and John kept watch with Ferrier in anticipation of anothervisit; but as had happened before, no lions appeared, and they turned intowards morning very much disgusted.
Next day John sent for Bill and asked him to lead them over the track ofthe lions. Meat was required for the larder, and he had determined tocombine game-shooting with a lion hunt. News of his arrangements wascarried to the village by one of the women working on the farm, and justas he was setting off, a dozen men arrived and begged to be allowed tojoin the party, their motive being probably a desire for excitementmingled with the hope of sharing the spoils. John's policy being tokeep on good terms with them, he made no objection, and shortly afterten the party set off, consisting of the two white men with Bill, SaidMohammed (very proud in the possession of a rifle), and the threeBaganda, the villagers following at a distance.
Business coming before sport, Bill led the party along the river-bankwhere he expected to find the tracks of animals which had come down todrink. The proximity of the farm had had the effect of scaringantelopes and gazelles and the timider animals away from theneighbourhood. Already John had had to go farther afield for game thanin the early days of the farm a year before. The Wanderobbo found hisway among the dense vegetation by following old hippo paths, whichcrossed and recrossed in what seemed to the wasungu hopeless confusion.But he came after some miles to a region where there was an abrupt gapin the larger trees: a fairly wide and recent hippo path led through thetall grass on the crest of the river-bank; and the party began to be onthe alert for game.
Suddenly Bill halted and took a backward leap which nearly landed him inthe arms of John.
"Faro! faro!" he cried excitedly, and on John asking where therhinoceros was, he pointed a few yards ahead, where, almost hidden bythe grass, lay a huge bull animal right across the path, and apparentlyasleep. The white men had brought only their double-barrelled rifles,which were not the best of weapons for shooting rhinoceros, and John,having no licence for such big game, though Ferrier had, ordered thenatives to shout, hoping that this would scare the beast away. When itremained unmoved he went to the river-bank on the right, and breakingoff some clods of earth, flung them at the slumberous creature, whichcompletely blocked the way. But this proving ineffectual ("It's likeshooting peas at a Dreadnought" said John) there was nothing for it butto try a rifle shot.
Ferrier went forward, cocked his rifle and fired, aiming at the brain;but though he was ordinaril
y a dead shot, his right arm had not yetfully recovered, and he missed. The rhinoceros was now thoroughlyawake; snorting angrily, he sprang to his feet with extraordinarynimbleness for so unwieldy a brute, and after a glance round camecharging full at Ferrier. He fired his second barrel, and this timehit; but the shot had no effect except to make the beast more furious,and Ferrier turned and bolted for his life. All the other members ofthe party except John had turned tail and fled away shrieking at thefirst moment of the animal's rising. John, licence or no licence, letfly with both barrels in rapid succession; whether he hit or not hecould not tell; certainly he failed to check the charging beast, whichmade with lowered head straight for Ferrier.
All this had happened in a few seconds. Ferrier was running hard, butit was clear that the rhinoceros must soon overtake him, and John knewthat one blow from those terrible horns would inflict a fatal gash. Hishand shaking with nervous anxiety, he reloaded, but when he lifted therifle to his shoulder he saw that he could not strike a fatal spot, theanimal being directly between him and his friend. He ran after them,hoping for some chance to give him a shot. At this moment Ferrierbecame aware that the rhinoceros was almost within tossing distance, andleaving the path made a sudden swerve to the right, plunging into thelong grass. The animal immediately turned to pursue him, for the firsttime presenting his flank to John. It was a ticklish moment. John knewthat his friend's life probably depended on his coolness. He steadiedhimself, took aim at a spot behind the beast's shoulder, and fired. Heheard the thud of the bullet, but for a moment feared it had notpenetrated the tough hide. The rhinoceros made a half-turn as if tocharge his new assailant, and John, glad that he had at least divertedthe pursuit from Ferrier, was preparing to fire his second barrel whenthe great form staggered, recovered itself, made two tottering strides,and then fell over on its side.
The air was rent with jubilant shouts as the natives emerged from theirhiding-places in the grass and ran towards the prostrate beast. Theystarted back in affright when it made a last convulsive effort to rise.John put it out of pain with another shot, and the natives surrounded itand immediately set about cutting it up.
"Thanks, old man," said Ferrier, coming up. "That's the second time."
"I say, what's the penalty for shooting a rhino without a licence?"cried John, to cover his embarrassment.
"The same as if you shot an armed burglar breaking into your house: thethanks of every honest man for ridding the world of a villain."
Said Mohammed, who had watched the incident from a safe distance,wondered that two young men should talk so strangely at a time when theyought to have been overcome with emotion. That is the English way.John had once seen M. Perrichon in the play fling his arms round hispreserver's neck and weep with gratitude. "What sickening rot!" he hadsaid. "Come and have an ice."
While the natives were cutting up the rhinoceros, the others marched on.They had no need to shoot more for the larder; there was at least a tonof meat on the huge carcase, which would last for several days. It wasnow a question of finding the track of lions. John went ahead withBill, Ferrier walking with Said Mohammed a few yards behind. TheBengali was talking, and his high-pitched voice carried well in thecrisp, clear air. John heard him say--
"In my humble opinion, sir, backed by inestimable experience in theSunderbunds, it was deplorable error of judgment to bunk. My uncle,sir, on that never-to-be-forgotten occasion when I shed the light of mycountenance on his tiger-hunt, he put the tiger to dumbfounder andflight--how, sir? By standing firm as a rock, 'without or life ormotion,' as the poet Coleridge beautifully says, and staring withunflinching gaze into the opposing optics. Moreover and in addition, herecited with unfaltering lips the words of a charm he had learnt fromsome old cock of a jogi--you have no word for that in your lovely lingo,sir, but, without disrespect, I might say parson. Tableau! Exit tiger.Triumph of mind over matter. 'He held him with his glittering eye,' etcetera."
"'The man recovered from the bite, The dog it was that died,'"
quoted Ferrier.
"Oliver Goldsmith, sir," cried the Bengali delightedly, "who wrote likean angel but talked like poor Poll. I esteem it a glorious privilege tohold communion, even in humble capacity of cook and bottle-washer, withgentleman of literary taste and elegant extracts."
The river-bank had descended until the path was almost level with thesurface of the water, and passed several patches of reeds which Billnegotiated warily, saying that any one of them might harbour a lion. Thewhite men followed him with growing excitement, and John confessed hefelt rather nervous, not knowing but that a lion might at any momentspring up at their feet. He stole a glance at Said Mohammed, andexchanged a smile with Ferrier as he saw that the cook looked decidedlyjumpy. Far in the rear came the villagers, eager not to miss the sport,and yet fearful to approach too near.
All at once Bill halted and bent towards the ground. There were theunmistakable pug marks. Following the track with his eyes, but withoutmoving from the spot, after a few moments he stretched out his speartowards a clump of trees about a hundred yards ahead, whispering,"Simba!" Neither John nor Ferrier could at first distinguish the lion,but presently two lionesses sprang out of the undergrowth, and made offwith long low bounds across the plain. For a moment the white menwatched their graceful movements with admiration, forgetting that thesewere the pests they had come out to slay. Then they set off in pursuit.But they had not advanced three paces when a huge black-maned lionshowed his head among the bushes, snarling angrily. He stared at thestrangers for a moment or two, then turned with another growl andtrotted after his mates.
"Come along," said John excitedly. "We can't get a fair shot at himyet."
They set off at a run, not troubling about Bill or Said Mohammed, whofollowed at a discreet distance. They gained on the beast, but afterrunning some three hundred yards found themselves rather short of wind,owing to the fact that they were in rarefied air at least 6000 feetabove sea-level.
"We shall spoil our aim if we get puffed," said Ferrier. "Better goslow."
At this moment, however, the lion halted behind a tree, as if to checkthe pursuit of the lionesses, and stood watching the huntsmen, growlingin a very threatening way. He seemed disinclined to budge, so John laydown on the path, and bringing his rifle to his shoulder, covered thehuge head.
"Confound it, look how my hand wobbles," he whispered to Ferrier. "Ican't fix the sight on him. Be ready to shoot if I miss or just stinghim, for he'll fly at us like the wind."
He steadied his arm and pulled the trigger. The fierce head instantlydropped out of sight, and the air was filled with such appalling roarsthat John hastily fired the second barrel, in the hope of finishing thebeast before he could charge. He had to aim by guess-work, and firedhalf-a-dozen shots before the roaring ceased.
"Now the others," cried John, shouting to the Wanderobbo to keep his eyeon the spot.
He ran forward with Ferrier towards the lionesses, which had halted aquarter of a mile away, and could just be seen above the grass. At themen's approach they cantered off, and though the chase was kept up fornearly a mile, they always got to cover before the pursuers came withineffective range, and finally disappeared among a large patch of reeds bythe river, whence it was hopeless to attempt to dislodge them.
"Better luck next time," said John, as they retraced their steps. "Youshall have first shot, Charley."
Returning towards the spot where the lion had been shot, they found thatBill had deserted his post. He was standing in the middle of the pathwith Said Mohammed, a good hundred yards away from any bushes or trees.The natives were chattering at a little distance.
"Why didn't you do as I told you?" cried John, vexed at the possibilityof having lost his quarry.
"Conscience made a coward of him, I fear, sir," said Said Mohammed.
"Well, go and see if you can find the lion. Get the natives to help. Idon't know which tree it was we shot him at," he added to Ferrier, "butI'm not going back
without his head."
The party split up and made a systematic search, the natives beating thebush and long grass thoroughly with their spears. At last one of themshouted that he had found the simba, instantly running away from thespot at the top of his speed. There was no growling to be heard,however, so plucking up his courage he returned to the place with hiscomrades. When John reached them, he found the men grouped a yard ortwo from the lion's tail, jabbering in much excitement. The beast wasstretched on his side, but John was surprised to see by the heaving ofhis flanks that he was not yet dead. Judging that the chatter of themen would have roused him if he had been able to rise, John went towardshis head, but the moment the lion caught sight of him he uttered aterrible roar and to John's amazement sprang to his feet. Steppinghastily backward, John stumbled against Said Mohammed, who, believinglike every one else that the beast was helpless, had become bold. TheBengali went down like a ninepin. John recovered his footing with aneffort, and raising his rifle, fired at the lion at a range of fouryards; but he was too hurried and agitated to take a careful aim, andthe shot merely had the effect of throwing the infuriated animal on hishaunches as he prepared to spring.
All this had happened so quickly that Ferrier, who had been beating thebush in the opposite direction from John, had not yet come up. Thesudden flight of the villagers apprised him that something was wrong,and as he hurried to the spot he was horrified at the sight that met hisgaze. Man and beast seemed only a yard apart. He dared not shoot forfear of hitting John, and seeing that the shot had but momentarilychecked the animal, he had given up his friend for lost when, as by amiracle, a sudden diversion occurred. The lion was leaping on John, whofired his second barrel with shaking hand and missed, when Said Mohammedscrambled to his feet and flew down the path, shrieking at the top ofhis voice. As if supposing that this white-clad yelling creature washis worst enemy, the lion changed the direction of his spring, almostgrazing John as he fell, and bounded off after the Bengali, with suchenormous leaps that escape seemed impossible. John hastily reloaded andfired, but he was trembling from head to foot; a mist seemed to risebefore his eyes; and his shot went very wide of the mark. By the timeFerrier reached his side the chase seemed over; they thought thatnothing could save the unlucky Indian. But when almost within thebrute's clutches, Said Mohammed with the desperation of terror made asudden jump to the right towards the river, as if intending to flinghimself into it. The lion swerved after him, presenting his flank tothe anxious spectators. Quick as thought Ferrier raised his rifle and,just as the beast was midway in his final spring, brought him down witha bullet through the heart.
"Ferrier raised his rifle, and brought him down with abullet through the heart."]
John heaved a deep sigh of relief.
"Good man!" he said. "But what on earth is the fellow up to?"
Next moment both he and Ferrier were shaking their sides with laughter,almost hysterical now that the tension was relaxed. The Bengali, toomuch overcome with terror to be aware of his safety, was scrambling up athorn tree with an agility that would have done credit to a slimmer man.Up he went, frantically swinging himself from bough to bough. Half wayup he lost his puggaree, snatched from his head by a long spike, andevery stage of his ascent was marked by little bits of his white cottondhoti left clinging to the branches. For some moments John was helplesswith laughter, but at last he managed to shout to Said Mohammed to comedown, for the beast was dead. The shout only made him climb the faster,nor did he stop until he was perched on the topmost branch, his whiterobe flapping in tatters about him. Nothing would induce him to budgeuntil the lion's head had been cut off, to be carried back to the farmas a trophy. Then he descended, much more slowly than he had mounted,and with a piteous effort to regain his dignity that was too much forJohn and Ferrier, who turned their backs so that he should not see theiramusement.
These excitements were considered enough for one day, and the party setoff for home, the natives carrying the lion's head and shouting a songof triumph. John said nothing to Said Mohammed until he thought hiscomposure was restored. Then he said--
"I owe you my life, khansaman. It was very plucky of you to draw thelion after you, and I shan't forget it.--Shut up!" he whispered toFerrier, who emitted a sort of gurgle.
A gratified smile stole across the Bengali's face.
"I am quite bucked, sir," he said. "Your words are sweeter than honey.When your honoured parent returns to this vale of woe, my heart will bein my mouth when I say to him: 'Lo! here is your progeny, whom I, SaidMohammed, failed B.A. of Calcutta University, saved from the jaws of thelion. If I had not been on the spot he would have been absolutely up agum-tree.'"
Ferrier guffawed.
"Why didn't you do as your uncle did in the Sunderbunds?" he askedpresently, unable to resist the temptation of a sly dig at the failedB.A.
"The absence of one ingredient, sir, spoils the sauce. It was rottennuisance, but I forgot _in toto_ the words of the charm."
Settlers and Scouts: A Tale of the African Highlands Page 12