by T F Carthick
It was when the moon came out that the full realization dawned upon me that I was lost; hopelessly lost! I ran to the left. I ran to the right. And back to the left. I ran frantically, going this way and that, hoping I would eventually come within view of my pack. But there was no sign of them. Where had they gone? It took some time for it to sink in that, for the first time, I did not have the safety of numbers with me. I was completely on my own, in an unknown stretch of the jungle, and totally clueless as to how to find my way back to the pack.
All the warnings of the elders rushed into my head unbidden, first in trickles and then, with force, like a river in flood. My mind began to conjure up images of lions and tigers. What could a lone wolf do against one of those? And the most dangerous of all—humans! We feared to take them on, even in packs. What would I do, all alone, if I ran into a human? I slunk around like a shadow, keeping an eye out for danger. But there was no sign of activity anywhere. Absolute silence reigned.
A night passed, and a day, with me no closer to finding my way back. It was moonlight again. Suddenly a new realization dawned upon me—I faced a much bigger threat than lions, tigers, and even humans—hunger! The deadliest hunter who spares neither predator nor prey! I had eaten nothing for a day and it had already begun to gnaw me from within. If I didn’t find food soon, I would die. What a pitiful way to die! A wolf who couldn’t keep the wolf from his door!
By now, I had at least grown more confident of spotting human traps. And there was no evidence of a lion or tiger in this area; I definitely would have spotted some signs of them if there had been any around. So, I decided to take a risk and move around a bit. I wandered round and round, all around the forest, all through the night, but all I found was a skinny rat. I would have turned my nose up at if I had been with my pack, but now it seemed like the choicest delicacy—I consumed it with abandoned relish. It only served to postpone the inevitable, though; I was still hungry! I needed something more substantial.
When I had almost given up hope, I caught a whiff of something delicious. My heart skipped a beat. Food at last! I waited eagerly as I heard footsteps approaching me.
There she was—a young human girl. All alone in the jungle, just like myself. She walked cautiously, taking one step at a time, holding on tightly to a wicker basket she held in her hand. The last two days had been so lonely that I almost felt like approaching her and making her acquaintance. But then, no! She was human. Humans and wolves were enemies. Humans hunt wolves. True, she did not look a hunter at all. There was not the slightest hint of menace to her. She looked weak and petite. If I stood on my hind legs, I would have reached her shoulders. She was probably a young one separated from her herd. Like me. Lonely, lost, vulnerable! All alone in the jungle.
But this was not the time for sentiment—I was dying of hunger. If she was not the hunter, she must be the quarry—that was the law of the jungle. The young and the old, the weak and the infirm, any creature that managed to stray away from its herd—they all were fair game for any predator in the vicinity. And here, I was the predator. A hungry one at that. I would have to eat her in order to stay alive—it was either me or her. But then again, how could I even think of hurting her—she too was alone in the jungle, separated from others of her kind like I was. I felt a strange kinship with her. A few minutes back I had been in the same position as she was. What if a more powerful animal had been around? What would have been my situation now? Would I have not hoped for some mercy from a more powerful predator?
I hesitantly made my way towards her when I heard a voice.
“Hark! Who goes there!”
I immediately ducked behind a tree. A much larger human came into view: he held something in his hand—something made of wood with a sharp metallic claw jutting out at the other end. I knew what this was from our elders’ stories—a hunting axe! This was the dangerous kind of human! If he found me, I was done for. I stilled my breath, but my heart beat so rapidly I was sure he would hear it.
“You there, girl! I was speaking to you. What are you doing in the jungle?”
“I…I…am going to my grandmother’s place.”
“Where? In the middle of the forest?”
“Y…yes”
“What does she live inside a forest for?”
“I…I…don’t know.”
It seemed like the girl was as scared of him as I was. He was what they called a huntsman. I wondered if he hunted fellow humans as well.
“Why are you going there?”
“My m…mother. She said…grandmother was not keeping well. To take something…to her.”
“What something?”
The girl held up her basket.
“What do you have in there?”
“M…meat pies and l…legs of m…mutton.”
Ah! That had been the delicious smell. It was the stuff in the basket. I must have known. While human flesh would do when one is in a situation like I was- with no other game, it is certainly no delicacy. Or at least not for me. Human flesh is a developed taste, one of the elders had said. We wolves are no gourmets to develop those kind of exotic tastes—we leave that to the tigers.
“Let me see. Open your basket.”
“No. Mother said to give it to grandma only.”
The man came closer to her, an air of menace about him. What was he going to do? Would he kill her?
“Give that basket to me.”
“No…” She broke into a run.
It was surprising how fast she could run. The man did not even attempt to give chase. He stood there laughing.
“What a chicken of a girl! Crazy mother! Sending her all alone into the jungle like that. And crazier grandmother! Living in the middle of the jungle all by herself!” he muttered to himself. “Anyways it is none of my business if she gets herself bitten by a snake or devoured by a pack of hungry wolves. Luckily for her we have no lions or tigers around here.”
I gave a sigh of relief—no lions and tigers. It was comforting to have this confirmed. I knew there was no rival pack of wolves here at this moment either; if they were here, I would have smelt them. So, the field was all mine. All I needed to do was find the girl and my hunger problem would be solved. I remembered coming across a solitary human habitation in a clearing during my wandering of the last two days. This must be her grandma’s house she had mentioned. I knew how to get there. I would get there before her and wait.
* * *
I ran like I was possessed. There was just one thought in my mind,
“I have to get away from this obnoxious man!”
I did not even see where I was going. I just ran. I was so scared of him. I know their kind too well. They’re more dangerous than animals. First, they will want to look into the contents of your basket and then into the contents of your tunic. I have seen many like that in my village—they are the only ones who try to make conversation with me. I am afraid of them and avoid them. The rest, they are afraid of me and avoid me. They do not like my green eyes and red hair. I keep my red hair covered with a hood most of the time, but there is little I can do about my eyes. They say I am a witch and will curse them. How I wish I really was a witch! I would love to curse a few of those lecherous men with roving eyes. Sigh! If only…! But I am just an unlucky little girl, whose own mother considers her a burden and blames her for all her troubles. The only human conversation I ever have is my mother’s nagging.
After putting some distance between him and me, I stopped and looked around. All the trees looked very different. As did the terrain. I didn’t know where I was. There were trees, trees and more trees all around me. Every direction I looked, seemed exactly the same. What was I to do? I would never get out of here. It was all my mother’s fault. Why did she have to send me into the jungle to take food to this grandmother I hardly even knew?
To be honest, I doubt if she even is actually my mother’s mother. She is some old woman my mother knows from the past or something, I reckon. She generally visits us like a shadow, lat
e in the evening, coming in through the backdoor. She huddles with my mother in the kitchen and confers with her and leaves before daybreak. She never ever even as much as acknowledged my presence. The one time she did deign to look at me, I caught such a weird, unnatural glint in her eyes; it gave me nightmares for days. I did not want to see her again at all and paying her a visit was the last thing I ever wanted to do, but my mother had insisted. When my mother wants something done, it has to be done—she brooks no dissent, no disobedience. That has been the story of my life for the last fourteen years. Despite doing everything she wants me to, I am still ill-treated by her. She keeps my nose to the grindstone, making me toil from dawn to dusk. After all the work, she hardly ever gives me anything to eat even —just dry bread with not even any cheese to go with it. She finds fault with whatever I do and needs only the slightest excuse to beat me. She has made my life completely miserable. But then, she is my own mother and I try not to think ill of her—not even when her actions lead me to be lost in the middle of a dense jungle.
Suddenly, an idea struck me. It was quite dry, and I could still see where I had left footsteps on the ground. If I could retrace my footprints, I would be back to where I met that horrid man. I did hope he would still not be around. As I began to walk, I felt a bit hungry. I was tempted to eat some of the goodies in the basket. But I was afraid to. This ‘grandmother’ woman might realize items are missing, and I did not know what she would do if she did. If she was anything like my mother, I didn’t even want to think about it! I was used to hunger anyway. I could easily manage for a day or two without food. Whenever my mother used to refuse me food, she always said we were too poor to afford it. Well, I wondered where she got all these delicious items to send to this supposed grandmother of mine, then.
By now, I was back where I had met that rude huntsman. Luckily, he was not there anymore. Now I could once again follow the route detailed by my mother. She had clearly instructed me how to reach grandmother’s home. Noon had already passed, and it was going to be evening soon. I had been instructed to reach by noon; I hoped she wouldn’t be angry with me, this ‘grandmother’. But what could I have done? Who could have predicted my encounter with that uncouth fellow? I just hoped I would reach before dusk and be on my way back almost immediately. Maybe I could still reach home before nightfall. I did not fancy the prospect of travelling the jungle all alone in the night, but I fancied even less the prospect of staying the night with the old woman. So, I began to take rapid strides and made my way towards the old woman’s hut.
Luckily, the rest of my walk through the woods was uneventful, and I reached her home just as the sun had begun to set. As I neared the hut, I heard the rustle of leaves behind me. I stopped in my tracks. Was this one of the animals the huntsman was talking about? What was I to do now? The creature was fast approaching. I wanted to run, but my legs seemed frozen to the spot. As the animal came closer, I whipped up some courage and turned around sharply to face it. And there it was in front of me: a poor little doe, more scared of me than I was of it. This was what I had been so scared of! I could not help laughing at my own folly as I watched the poor thing scamper away into the woods.
The cottage door was slightly ajar. I could see the silhouette of my grandmother reclining on her bed. She seemed to be really ill, just as mother mentioned. Poor woman! Living all alone in the woods like that with no one to care for her. For a moment, I felt guilty regarding all my negative thoughts about her. How different was I from the villagers who mis-treated me? My fear of her was just as groundless as the fear some villagers had of me. I gently knocked at the door.
“Come in, my dear.” Grandmother’s voice sounded strangely hoarse and rough.
“What happened to your voice, grandma?”
“It’s the cough, my dear. My throat’s gone real bad and does not seem to get better at all.”
As I entered and walked closer to her, my eyes met my grandmother’s. They were golden yellow and shone in the dark. This was not how they had looked when I saw them last.
“Grandma, your eyes have a strange gleam.”
“All the better to see my sweet granddaughter’s pretty face, aren’t they?”
“Why are you sitting in the dark, grandmother?” I walked up to the oil lamp next to grandma’s bed and struck a match. A gust of wind caught the flame and blew it out. But before it went out, I caught a brief glimpse of her large ears sticking out of her bonnet. Wait! Her ears were not like this. What I had just seen were not even human ears. What was going on? A shiver passed through my spine.
“Grandma, your ears look so long and sharp.”
“All the better to hear my sweet granddaughter’s lovely voice, aren’t they?”
When I went to light the lamp again, she shook her hand. “Don’t light the lamp, my dear. I am having a headache. The lamp will attract flies. That will irritate me and worsen my headache. Leave the lamp and come closer to me. Show me what you have brought in that basket of yours.”
I took a meat pie out of the basket and gave it to her. She munched it slowly and noisily. As she ate, my grandmother’s jaw seemed to jut out weirdly and her back seemed to hunch in a strange manner with bristles rising on her back. I wondered if it my imagination was at work all over again. Then a beam of moonlight entered through the window and fell on grandmother’s face. It was not grandmother's face at all. It was a canine face with sharp cruel teeth.
“Grandma, your teeth look so sharp.”
“All the better to eat my sweet granddaughter’s lovely flesh, aren’t they?”
With that, she jumped out of the bed with a nimbleness impossible for one her age. It was not grandmother at all. It was a wolf!
I jumped aside just in time. The wolf missed me narrowly and hit the floor with a thud.
“Help! Help!” I yelled at the top of my voice. “A wolf is after me! Someone save me!”
By now the wolf had recovered and was gearing itself for another assault. I jumped into the broom cupboard and shut myself in. I could hear the wolf scraping furiously at the door. I held on for dear life. I feared the door might give way any moment. The moment it did, I would be done for. There would not even be any space for me to move and the wolf would be directly upon me.
I yelled again with all my energy, “Help! Help! Wolf!” I hoped my voice could reach outside, but even if it could, who would be there in the middle of the jungle at this time to listen to me?
The door suddenly burst open and there in front of me stood the wolf, eyes glowing ferociously, and teeth bared all prepared to pounce on me. I closed my eyes in horror and waited for inevitable. I heard a whizzing sound followed by the crunching sound like meat being cut and the wolf’s blood curdling howl almost all of them within seconds of each other. I did not dare to open my eyes. The howling continued on but seemed to be moving away from me It also got feebler and then finally stopped.
“You are safe now. You can open your eyes,” said a familiar voice. I opened my eyes. It was the same obnoxious hunter. At his feet lay the wolf covered in blood. It was a gory sight.
“Thank you for saving my life, Sir. Thank you very much.”
He just nodded his head and proceeded to pull out a sack and stuff the wolf’s remains into it. Once done, he stepped out. What! He was just leaving just like that and going away?
“Sir, what about me?”
He turned back and surveyed me from head to foot. “Yes. What about you?”
“I need to be getting back home.”
“Feel free. I am not stopping you.”
What kind of a man was he?
“But the forest is dangerous. I am scared.”
“It is. That did not prevent you from coming into it, though, did it?”
“It was a mistake, Sir I admit. My mother made me do it.”
“Then she can make you come back as well.”
I just did not get it. Why was he acting like this? Before I could say anything more he had turned once again and was on his
way out. Realization dawned upon me. He had not killed the wolf out of any concern for me at all. He was just a hunter after his quarry. He had his prize, and now he had no interest in me anymore. He was not going to help me. I had to take care of myself. I could not remain just standing there, thinking. The cottage was not that much safer than the rest of the jungle either, as I had just discovered. I mean, if I closed and bolted the door, I might be safe. But after the encounter with that wolf, I could not bring myself to stay in the cottage.
I would rather brave the jungle. It was growing dark and I was starting to get an eerie feeling. Still, I might be safe if I followed closely after the hunter. Though he wouldn’t take me with him, he couldn’t stop me from keeping at his heels. If any dangerous beast threatened me on the way, he would be within earshot. He would surely come to my rescue if not for my sake, at least for the sake of the beast. One more trophy wouldn’t hurt, would it?
I was sure he would make his way to the village to sell the wolfskin. And he would know the paths very well. So, he was my best bet for return to safety.
* * *
Food! Finally! My wait was over. Food! After three days of starvation. Waiting for me at the other end of the cupboard door. All I had to do was reach out and grab it. Yes! I pounced at the door in eager anticipation. But something stopped me midflight. I hit the ground. My hunger had disappeared. All I felt was pain. Excruciating pain! Coursing through every nerve on my body! I could sense something warm and wet on the ground below me. It seemed to have started flowing from close to my torso and slowly spreading all over. I looked down. The whole floor was turning crimson red. It was blood! My blood! I would have fainted if my attention had not been drawn by a sudden whizzing sound close to me. I looked up just in time to catch a glint of metal. The dull blade of an axe. Hurling towards me. Was this the end?
I closed my eyes. A dismal howl escaped by throat. Soon the air was rented with blood curdling howls. But the howls seemed to be receding from me into a distance. They did not seem to be coming from my throat at all. In all this din, the pain seemed to have miraculously disappeared. Was this death? I fearfully opened my eyes. I was lying near some bushes. I looked around. There was no sign of any blood. Nor any axe. But the howl could still be heard. It was becoming feebler by the minute. It was emanating from the hut in front of me. Suddenly the howling stopped. I could hear some voices. It was that human hunter and the human girl. I quickly scampered behind the bushes.