It was a living bridge. Branches and vines had been woven and bonded together. Fresh vines trailed across it, some tumbling into the waters below. If she could grab hold of them in time, she might be able to climb up. But did she have the stamina? It was so long since she’d eaten. She was using every last ounce of energy just keeping the log from rolling – keeping Taj upright and safe. But she had to try. This was their only chance.
Carefully, Fliss lined herself up with the centre of the bridge, where the vines touched the water.
“You’re going to have to do some stretching now, Taj,” she said. “Just like when you knocked the crown off my head, remember? I know you can do it.” Taj looked at her with his round grey eyes and she tried to smile.
They were seconds from the bridge. Fliss was still holding on to the log with one hand. With the other, she grabbed Taj by the scruff of his neck and raised him as high as she could in the air. Her arm trembled with the effort. This is it, she thought. Time to be strong.
Just before they slipped under the bridge, Fliss let go of the log and snatched at the vines with her free hand, quickly wrapping her fingers tight around a slippery wood stem. In the other hand, Taj struggled, terrified.
“Go!” she shouted through gritted teeth.
Fliss swung the cub upwards. Taj reached up and hooked a claw in the vine above. The rest of his body dangled unsteadily above her.
“You can do it!” she called, as Taj’s back claws found footholds. He scrambled to the top.
“Brilliant!” Fliss cried. “Well done.”
She was still holding tightly to the bottom of the vine. Although her arms hurt, Taj’s success filled her with joy. The little tiger looked at her and mewed.
“I’m coming, bossy prince!” she said.
Fliss gulped down a big breath of air and swung her legs up, hooking her feet through a loop of vines. From there she pulled her top half upwards and heaved herself on to the bridge.
They had made it!
Fliss lay on her back on the walkway, catching her breath. She closed her eyes and listened to the roar of the rapids below.
“I think we could have done without that adventure!” she said, rubbing water from her eyes. She sat up and looking around. Where was Taj?
There was a furious flapping on the other side of the river as some birds shot out of a bush, squawking with alarm. A little tiger cub crawled out from underneath it.
“Chasing birds? You naughty cat! Come on, let’s head back.” But Taj was busy sniffing the ground.
Maybe the cub knew something she didn’t. Perhaps he had caught the scent of his family… Watching her feet on the slippery vines, Fliss crossed the old bridge. She watched and waited to see where Taj’s nose would lead him… The tiger edged forwards slowly, one foot after another. Then he pounced! A lizard shot between his legs and ran into the undergrowth.
“So much for keeping your mind on the job, Taj!” Fliss laughed. “We’re supposed to be looking for your mum, not lizards! But first…”
First, before they did anything else, she planned on giving the cub a big hug. She wanted to hold him tight and safe, just for a moment. It looked as if Taj had the same idea! No sooner had Fliss bent down to pick him up, he jumped into her arms and licked her face. His tongue was rough as sandpaper.
“You’ll lick my skin off if you give me any more kisses!” Fliss laughed.
Then her tummy let out a long, low moan. Startled, Taj jumped backwards and fell over.
“Ha ha! It’s just my tummy, silly. I don’t think I can survive any more adventures without food. There must be something around here I can eat. Aha, what’s that?”
Fliss had spotted a wide umbrella-shaped tree. Oval orangey fruits hung in clusters at the top, like seed pods. The tree’s v-shaped branches made it easy to climb, but just as Fliss was about to pull herself into the branches she saw a monkey sitting further up.
Then – ow! – something hard fell on Fliss’s head. A fruit from the tree, now slightly squished, rolled at her feet. Fliss picked it up, peeled away the skin and brought it to her nose. She sniffed. Hmmmm, she knew that smell. It was sweet and wholesome, just like the juice Luke had given her. Mango!
There was a rustle in the leaves above and another mango tumbled down. This one was greener, and certainly not ripe enough to fall off a tree by itself. Fliss looked up to see the silvery langur was now awake and peering down at her with interest.
“Thanks, monkey,” Fliss said a little nervously. Were langurs aggressive? She couldn’t remember… It watched her intensely, as if it was waiting for something.
Fliss bit into her juicy mango and made mmmm sounds to show it was delicious. The langur listened, head to one side. Then it reached up and twisted another mango from its stalk and carefully dropped it at her side. Fliss clapped with joy. She peeled it and bit into the sweet flesh.
“Yes! Delicious! I’m going to call you Mango. Mango the monkey!”
Mango liked the cheering and clapping, and jumped up and down on his branch. Fliss jumped up and down too. Then Mango clapped. Fliss was now full of fruit sugars and juice, and she could feel her energy returning. This monkey wanted to play – what an experience it would be!
“Hide-and-seek with a tiger, and now copycat with a monkey!” she laughed.
Fliss and Mango played copycat for a long time, and the only real cat involved – Taj – danced at Fliss’s feet, enjoying the excitement.
But Mango’s mood suddenly changed. Fliss saw it in his face. He kept turning away. Then he began shrieking and barking – a noise that juddered right through her.
What did I do wrong? Fliss wondered. She backed away, frightened about what Mango might do. But the monkey, baring his teeth, was pointing at something in the distance. He became more and more upset, slapping the branches then pointing over and over again.
“You’re warning me about something?” Fliss said. Chills shot up her spine.
There was danger coming – she sensed it. She grabbed Taj and pushed him up the tree. He dug his claws into the bark and he scrambled higher. Then Fliss pulled herself up on to the lower branch, arms still sore. The monkey had moved to the top of the tree, so Fliss climbed higher.
From her lookout, she spotted something moving through the trees. Tails – striped and thick as rope. Then she saw the bodies they were attached to… Five animals with sleek orange and black coats, one large and four smaller. There was no mistaking what they were: beautiful Bengal tigers.
“Taj, could it be…?” Fliss started. But her little cub had already run back down the tree, head first, graceful and sure. Fliss followed behind clumsily, slipping on the last branch and falling to the ground on her backside. There was a shriek.
“Are you laughing at me?” Fliss tutted. But the monkey was still pointing and making a racket. “It’s all right, Mango. That’s Taj’s family.”
Taj ran ahead and Fliss hid behind the mango tree. She was tingling with excitement! She was about to see a happy ending – although she wished that Mango would be quiet. He seemed more agitated than ever. Why? She looked up at the monkey’s expression. He was hissing. Something was wrong.
Fliss looked at Taj, who had stopped, his fur bristling. Then she looked at the silhouettes of the tigers. They were much bigger than him – even the small ones. They were six months old, maybe. Or even a year.
This wasn’t Taj’s family. And Taj knew it. He shivered all over.
“Taj!” she whispered, trying to get his attention.
Taj stopped and turned.
“That’s right, Taj. Come!” Fliss coaxed.
To her relief, the cub ran back to her. Fliss pulled him into her arms and darted back behind the mango tree. If this side of the river belonged to the tiger family in front of them, then they would automatically be Taj’s rivals. Fliss knew that tigers patrolled their own patches of land, and something in the easy way these giants moved through the forest told her that this was definitely their territory. Rival tigers mi
ght see them as enemies. They were in great danger.
She heard the crack of paws on small twigs. The tigers were approaching. Fliss peered round the tree trunk.
The tigers weren’t far away. They sniffed the air with interest.
Was it better to stay still and be found, or run and be seen? Either way, if the tigers spotted them, there’d be no escape. She gripped Taj even tighter and watched and waited, hoping they’d leave. But the mother moved ahead of her cubs, closer and closer. The tigress was huge! She had a wide face with big almond-shaped eyes and her coat was as luxurious as velvet. It slid smoothly over her giant muscles as she ran – it was a stunning sight. But she was running! Running!
There was no time to climb the tree – and besides, tigers were much better climbers than she was. Fliss’s only chance was to sprint to the bridge and get to the other side of the river, back into Taj’s territory.
With Taj tight in her grip, she waited until the tigress turned to look at her cubs and then she ran. The bridge was only a few metres away. She looked behind. They’d seen her and were picking up speed. Fear hit Fliss like a block of ice. She couldn’t outrun a tiger!
Taj clung to her, frightened. His claws dug into her like blades. All Fliss could do was run like she’d never run before. Her breath rasped and her lungs burned as she powered towards the bridge.
Her feet hit the rickety walkway, and she was so focused that she was almost on the other side when she heard the monkey shrieking again. She turned to see if Mango was telling her something new… But the tigers were still on the other side of the bridge. They ducked and snarled and turned in circles. What was going on?
Mango was throwing mangos at them! The monkey was holding them back.
“Thank you, Mango!” Fliss yelled to her funny friend in the tree. She ran the rest of the way across the bridge. She didn’t stop until they were safely back in Taj’s territory, which she knew rival tigers wouldn’t dare to enter. She collapsed to the ground and Taj crawled into her lap. She stroked him over and over until his panicked breathing calmed.
“We will keep looking for your family but I think we’d better stick to this side of the river from now on. You tigers are a territorial lot!”
While they rested, Fliss found herself thinking about the trouble humans brought to nature without even realizing it. Just a simple bridge connecting two territories created problems. She had read in her Wild Jungle Fund book how villages and towns expanded as their populations grew, which meant they had to clear more precious jungle to build houses. It made the tigers’ territories smaller, food more scare, and it pushed the rival tiger families closer together, which created fights.
Fliss’s thoughts were disturbed by the drumming of rain. The monsoon showers were starting again. She plucked a huge leaf and rolled the edges so it collected water in the middle. She gulped some down and then collected some for Taj who lapped at it happily.
“Refreshed? Then let’s go. And let’s keep away from the banks of the river. I’m definitely not ready for another swim!”
Fliss walked into the forest and Taj trotted behind her obediently. The little cub had become so used to her, he could almost be a pet! But Fliss knew it was wrong to encourage that. Tigers needed to be alert and careful for survival. And although she had grown to love Taj and would do anything for him, she couldn’t teach him tiger skills. He needed to be with his own kind as soon as possible – before his mother forgot about him. If they were apart too long, she might not take him back.
Fliss briefly wondered why the mother had never returned for her little cub. If she had stayed in her own territory, she couldn’t be too far away. Although a mile of forest was hard to get through on foot.
“Let’s go this way, little one,” Fliss said, clapping her hands to a happy beat. But although she wanted to sound happy, her heart was heavy. She worried what would become of her handsome tiger prince.
The full monsoon was upon them and trekking was hard. After so much rain, the ground was like a bog. Now there was even more water, and nowhere for it to go. Fliss’s sandals kept getting stuck in the sticky soil. When she saw Taj swimming in a puddle in the middle of the forest floor, she decided that staying away from the river wasn’t enough.
“We need to find higher ground,” she said. “The water runs downhill, so if we’re higher up we won’t be bogged down. We might even find a viewpoint.”
After a steep climb, they reached a place where the land evened out – a wide flat step in the side of the hill. There were fewer trees up here and a wide view of the forest, which stretched for miles like a giant green carpet. Streams of white birds drifted across the sky below like threads of cotton. It was breathtaking.
“Look at your home, Taj,” Fliss said, lifting the cub in the air. “Isn’t it the most beautiful place in the world?”
Taj wriggled and mewed. He flipped from side to side in her arms. He seemed irritable.
“What’s the matter – want to play? OK, we’ve got time for a quick game of hide-and-seek if you like.”
But as soon as Fliss put him down, Taj shot off towards a cluster of rocks further along the ridge. He scrambled over a rock and out of sight. This wasn’t like the times they’d played before. Fliss followed Taj and found him on the other side of the rocks, lying in the grass. He didn’t move when she arrived. He didn’t even turn his head. He was watching something. He was shivering a little. He was cold. Or maybe he was scared…
“What is it, Taj?” Fliss said, worriedly. Then she saw them.
Eyes. Four sets of eyes peered back at them through the grasses up ahead. They were strange eyes, a little spooky.
I’ve seen those eyes before, Fliss thought. Who do they belong to?
Before she could pick up Taj, the cub sprang forwards and began bounding towards the unusual eyes. Fliss, heart thumping, stayed absolutely still. There was nothing she could do. She bit her nails as she watched Taj get closer to the unknown creatures.
Wait a minute! The backs of Taj’s ears! She saw them as he ran – black with white dots. Just like eyes. The spooky eyes weren’t eyes at all but markings. Tigers’ ears. He was running to greet tigers!
The four tigers in the grasses heard Taj approaching and turned their heads, just as Taj pounced. He landed on top of one of them and nuzzled its neck. He wouldn’t do that unless he knew them. This must be his family! Fliss’s eyes welled up as she was struck by waves of emotions. Hope, worry, sadness… She hadn’t said goodbye to her little prince.
But she couldn’t get in the way now. She backed off and hid behind a rock to watch.
One of the tigers – just a cub – stood up and pawed Taj until he rolled over. Others came to investigate, and soon Taj was surrounded by cubs. They were all bigger than him but he didn’t seem scared or unsure. And they appeared to be patient with his playfulness.
If this was Taj’s family, then these cubs weren’t big – Taj was small! He looked two months old but perhaps he was three or even four months old like the others. Fliss realized the truth – Taj was the runt of litter, the smallest. The one that doesn’t thrive as well as the others.
In many animal species there were runts and they always had a harder time. Sometimes they didn’t survive very long. But Taj would be OK, Fliss was sure of it. He had enough spirit in him to flourish. He always seemed to find energy from nowhere! Now he was home, he had a good chance of growing up to be a big healthy tiger, just like his brothers and sisters.
Then Fliss noticed the rise and fall of a large stripey orange back moving through the grasses. Mum had returned. In her mouth she held a small animal for the cubs to eat. This was great news! Apart from a tiny fish, Taj hadn’t eaten anything for a long time. Finally he could have a proper meal. Fliss hoped the tigress would let him feed first. Taj looked back at Fliss.
Go on, Fliss mouthed. Go on, Taj.
Taj mewed at her once, and then he walked very carefully towards his mother. Fliss covered her mouth to stop her sobs of joy as he
broke into a run and shot between his mother’s legs. He nuzzled her soft tummy, happy to be home. The mother dropped her kill and roared.
Fliss thought it was a roar of triumph at having her cub back but gasped in horror as the tigress then batted Taj away with her huge paw. He flew through the air and rolled into the grasses. The other, bigger cubs moved to take their meat, leaving no room for Taj. He tried again and again, each time springing forwards full of hope. But as soon as he got near the meat or his mother, he was met with ferocious roars that made the air shudder. The poor cub trembled.
Fliss couldn’t stop the tears. He had been abandoned by his own family. If he stayed with them, he would starve.
“Come, Taj!” Fliss rasped. “Come to me.”
The other tigers didn’t even notice Taj leave. Fliss gathered the cub in her arms and backed away. She didn’t know what to do. She had to save him, and how could she save him if he had no home to go to?
They walked down the hill, away from the territory that Taj was no longer a part of, back into the damp forest.
Fliss didn’t know how she could help the cub now but she knew she couldn’t leave him. What if he fell into the river looking for fish, or accidently ended up in another tiger’s territory? He’d never survive.
“No,” she said aloud, giving Taj a squeeze. “We’re not parting ways until I find a way to keep you safe. I’m staying right here with you.”
Taj began to talk a lot. It started as loud and gravelly mews but got weaker and weaker as they went on. Fliss remembered how he had immediately tried to nuzzle his mother. Was he asking for food? He must be so hungry. Being anywhere near the river during the monsoon was dangerous, but they had to go back and catch more fish, because who knew when they’d find something to eat again.
Little Tiger Rescue Page 3