Sandokan: Quest for a Throne (The Sandokan Series Book 6)

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Sandokan: Quest for a Throne (The Sandokan Series Book 6) Page 9

by Emilio Salgari

“The mahout knows what he’s doing,” said the Bengali. “We should prepare our rifles. It’s not uncommon for a kala baagh to attack a group of hunters instead of fleeing.”

  “Let’s get ready, Sandokan.”

  The Tiger of Malaysia emptied his chibouk, picked up his double-barreled carbine, loaded it, and set it upon his knees. Yanez and Tremal-Naik did the same; then they each grabbed a pike and placed it within reach.

  “Sandokan, keep an eye on the mahout, I’ll scan the jungle to our right; Tremal-Naik, keep watch over the other side,” said Yanez once their preparations had been completed. “I doubt the rajah’s men will be of much help, I’m counting on the three of us.”

  “And on Kammamuri and our Malays of course,” added the Tiger of Malaysia. “They’re not the type of men who would show their backs in moments of great danger.”

  Although all seemed to indicate that the dreaded beast had passed through the jungle, the elephants reached the banks of the pond without incident, frightening off a few pairs of peacocks and a half-dozen dhitaraj, bar-headed geese with black-tipped wings and a pair of black stripes on their foreheads.

  The pond was about five or six hundred metres in circumference and was fed by several tiny streams that flowed into it from the jungle. Several taro plants grew in and along its waters, tropical plants with large green leaves about one to two metres long. They are grown throughout India, their leaves, stems, and corms employed in a variety of dishes.

  “This will do,” Yanez said to the mahout.

  He threw down the ladder and climbed to the ground followed by his companions. The khansama immediately approached for instructions.

  “Have the men raise the tent and build a camp.”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “One more thing.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Are there other ponds in the area?”

  “No, sir. There’s a river, but it’s quite far from here.”

  “So the nilgai and buffalo are forced to drink here.”

  “Yes, they have no other choice.”

  “Excellent; now all we need is a good dinner.”

  Assisted by Kammamuri and the Malays, the bearers and servants quickly set up camp, raising the hunters’ tent beneath a magnificent peepal tree, while the shikari erected a bamboo fence about its perimeter to help keep the beasts at bay.

  Dinner was served thirty minutes later, a hearty meal of dal, rice, curried vegetables and chapatti, a flatbread made from whole wheat flour.

  “My lord,” said the khansama as he stepped into the tent after Yanez and his companions had finished eating. “Should I start a few bonfires about the camp?”

  “No,” said the Portuguese. “No fires at all. You’ll scare off the tiger, we want her to approach.”

  “It could attack, my lord.”

  “We’ll be ready. Have a few guards posted behind the wall and tell them to keep their eyes peeled. Do you have any lard left?”

  “There’s some ghee that may serve just as well.”

  “Any tin cans?”

  “Yes, we brought several cans of tinned meat for you and your companions.”

  “Fill three or four with ghee, stick in a small piece of rope or a piece of cloth, then have them placed about the camp, about three or four hundred paces apart.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “What do you intend to do with those tin cans, Yanez?” asked the Tiger of Malaysia once the khansama had left.

  “Draw out the baagh,” said Tremal-Naik and the Portuguese.

  “How?”

  “An old trick I used when I hunted in the Black Jungle,” replied Tremal-Naik. “Tigers love the smell of ghee. Once it catches scent of it, it’ll come to search for it.”

  “Grab your weapons; we’ll go set up an ambush outside of camp,” said Yanez. “I’m certain we’ll catch that beast tonight.”

  “Ready when you are,” said the Tiger of Malaysia.

  They took up their rifles and ammunition, tucked their krises into their sashes and stepped out of the tent.

  “The camp is in your hands,” Yanez said to the khansama. “My men will assist you if there are any problems.”

  “Where are you going?” asked the Indian, amazed.

  “To find the kala baagh.”

  “At night!”

  “No better time. Good night. You’ll likely hear our rifles thunder before sun up.”

  They instructed Kammamuri and the Malays to keep their eyes peeled, then the three brave men walked out of the camp as calmly as if they were merely going out to hunt snipe.

  It was a splendid night; the sky was clear and filled with stars and the moon cast a soft blue light over the jungle. Yanez and his two companions, having walked past the tins of burning ghee, entered among the reeds and bushes of the jungle and walked until they came upon a small clearing dotted by a few mindi trees.

  “This will work perfectly,” said the Portuguese, laying down his rifle. “From here we can keep an eye on the jungle and the camp.”

  “Yes, we couldn’t have found a better place,” agreed Sandokan.

  “Shhh!” whispered Tremal-Naik.

  “What?” the two men whispered back.

  But before the Bengali could reply, a roar as loud as a clap of thunder tore through the air and made even the Tiger of Malaysia shudder. The kala baagh had come!

  Chapter 9

  The Hunt

  THE WORLD’S THREE great carnivores have divided the globe so that their paths never cross. Lions rule in Africa, bears Europe and North America, while tigers have spread through Asia and the large islands of Oceania.

  About six hundred million people live in the baagh’s domain, and every year the beasts claim their tribute; in India alone, they slay no less than ten thousand people. Snakes and alligators, though far more numerous, barely take half that number.

  Tigers can be found in Persia, Indo-China, Sumatra, Java, Borneo, the Malay Peninsula, New Guinea, Mongolia and Manchuria, but none are equal in beauty, cunning and ferocity to India’s Royal Bengal Tigers. Those that live in the Malay islands are stubbier, with shorter legs, and therefore far less elegant. Their striped fur is thicker and longer, but their coat thins along their thighs and abdomen. Their whiskers are less developed, their eyes are more malicious, and they walk about with a rough gait, tongues lolling from their mouths as if constantly searching for blood. They are the farmers of the forest.

  The Indian tiger is far more developed, more graceful and more elegant but just as fierce, and even perhaps more carnivorous than the others. It is the largest of the species, even larger than the great tigers of China that cause much strife among the peasants of Manchuria.

  A beautiful Indian tiger never measures less than two and a half metres from the tip of its nose to the tip of its tail, and is often more than three metres long. They are about a metre tall, measured from the base of their front paws to the tip of their ears, and their footprints are twenty centimetres in diameter. The average female weighs about a hundred and thirty kilograms while males often weigh more than two hundred.

  They have a smaller head than a lion or a panther, however, their jaws are wider, their teeth are longer, and their claws are harder and sharper. Their chest is narrower; American jaguars have a longer neck, which allows them to drag off larger beasts like a cow almost effortlessly. A tiger, however, in its prime, can leap over a fence three or four metres high, and carry off a large calf in its mouth.

  Tigers are extremely cunning beasts. Lions always roar before they attack, their battle cry as loud as a clap of thunder; tigers, however, prefer stealth, and rarely make a sound. Like panthers, they lie in wait for hours and let out a roar only after they have pounced on their prey and begun to feast.

  ***

  Had the hoarse roar heard by Yanez and his companions announced that the kala baagh had just caught its dinner, or that it had just caught scent of the small party of hunters?

  “What do you make of that, Tremal-Naik?” a
sked the Portuguese. “Has it just caught something?”

  “No,” replied the Bengali, “that sounded like a cry of disappointment. When a tiger captures its prey its roar is more formidable, more triumphant. Some nilgai or some buffalo must have escaped it.”

  “So it’ll come looking for us,” said Sandokan.

  “If it’s still hungry,” replied Tremal-Naik.

  “It’ll get a taste of our lead,” said Yanez. “Get ready to fire.”

  “My nerves are steady,” said the Bengali.

  “So are mine,” added the Tiger of Malaysia.

  “Shh!”

  “Is it coming towards us?” Sandokan and Yanez asked in unison as they drew their rifles and stretched out on the ground.

  “I can’t tell, but I heard something move in that bamboo grove just opposite us.”

  “It could be trying to sneak up on us,” said Sandokan.

  “It’s likely,” said Tremal-Naik.

  “We’ll be ready,” said Sandokan.

  They heard a dark growl that seemed to come from much closer, followed almost immediately by a dark sinister roar.

  “Well it’s as bold as Kali,” said Yanez, forcing a smile. “It’s certainly not trying to hide its presence.”

  “It’s hungry,” said Tremal-Naik, “and it’s gotten a whiff of fresh meat.”

  “By Jupiter! It’s not going to feast on us.”

  “Fan out,” said Sandokan. “Yanez, go to my right, Tremal-Naik, to my left, no more than fifteen or twenty paces. We’ll try to draw it out and surround it. Careful now, don’t let it pounce.”

  “It won’t get the chance,” replied the Bengali.

  “I just wish I could finish my cigarette,” said Yanez. “Bah, I’ll make up for it later.”

  While Sandokan stepped back a few paces, the Portuguese and Tremal-Naik moved to opposite edges of the small clearing and stretched out behind the thorny bamboo.

  After the second roar, the tiger had fallen silent, but the three hunters knew it was advancing towards them, intending to strike.

  While Yanez and Tremal-Naik had taken position, Sandokan had crouched to his knees, holding the rifle low so that the beast would not spot it. The pirate’s eyes scanned the top of the tall reeds without pause, looking for the slightest movement that would reveal the tiger’s position.

  Silence reigned over the vegetation; the jackals and wild dogs seemed to have vanished, the kala baagh’s roar likely making them flee in fear. A slight breeze would rustle the tops of the reeds at times, and then all would fall still once again.

  Minutes passed, the hunters waiting anxiously. Though they were brave to the point of folly and had been on several tiger hunts, they could not completely quell their unease. Yanez nervously chewed his cigarette butt, Sandokan’s finger caressed the trigger of his rifle and even Tremal-Naik struggled to keep still.

  Suddenly, Sandokan heard a sharp soft hiss from within the bamboo grove just opposite him.

  Any moment now, he thought.

  A gust of wind blew through the reeds, heavy with the harsh scent of wild game.

  “It’s studying me,” the pirate murmured to himself. “Come, my friend, come measure yourself against me.”

  He threw his companions a quick look; neither had moved, perhaps they had not seen it.

  Suddenly the bamboo parted before him and the tiger emerged from the reeds, its phosphorescent eyes fixed upon him. Sandokan quickly raised his carbine and fired two shots in rapid succession.

  The kala baagh roared frighteningly as four more shots thundered from the pirate’s flanks. The beast leapt into the air and bounded off into the jungle, vanishing in an instant.

  “Got it!” shouted Yanez, running up to Sandokan, who was quickly reloading his rifle.

  “Yes! It’s wounded!” said Tremal-Naik, springing to his feet.

  “So far, so good,” said Sandokan. “Though I would have preferred to see it fall here before us.”

  “We’ll find it in its lair,” said Tremal-Naik. “It must be gravely wounded; otherwise it would have attacked us.”

  “I aimed for its neck,” said Yanez.

  “I think we may have struck its forepaws,” said Tremal-Naik. “Regardless, it won’t be back tonight. We’ll go look for it tomorrow.”

  “And finish it once and for all, if it’s still alive,” added Sandokan. “Back to camp then, we could all use a few hours of sleep.”

  They listened for a moment, then once assured there was nothing hiding in the surrounding reeds, headed out of the clearing and crossed the small stretch of jungle that separated them from the camp.

  Kammamuri and the six Malays were standing guard outside the wall.

  “Go to sleep,” said Sandokan. “We wounded it; we’ll go search for it tomorrow. Tell the khansama to have the elephant ready in a couple of hours.”

  All the Indians had sprung to their feet with their weapons drawn, fearing the hunters had missed the tiger and that it was about to attack the camp. But when they learned that it had been seriously wounded, they sat back down upon the ground.

  The three friends entered their tent, accepted a glass of beer that the khansama immediately offered them, then stretched out on their mats, placing their rifles within reach. Exhausted, it was not long before the three were sound asleep.

  The bark of dogs and trumpeting of elephants woke them a few hours later as the Indians prepared to resume the hunt.

  “They’ve found their spines again,” said Yanez, spying the shikari lined up before the colossal beasts as he peered through the entrance to the tent.

  The khansama entered moments later with cups of hot tea; the Portuguese and his friends quickly drained them and took their places in the howdah.

  “Onward!” Yanez commanded once the last preparations had been completed.

  The three elephants set off at once, the shikari and bearers leading the way. Once outside the bamboo fence, the dogs were released; they rushed in all directions, barking furiously.

  The sky was slowly brightening. The stars had begun to dim and the heavens were reddening in the east. A cool breeze blew in from the nearby Brahmaputra, rustling through the bamboo trees.

  At times they would spy a few axis,[15] racing off as they advanced, at others they would see small bands of kalij pheasants,[16] beautiful birds with a blue-black crest, a bare red face, glossy bluish-black feathers, a white neck and chest, and a thick tail dart in among the vegetation.

  “Either the tiger is dead or it’s lying wounded in its den,” said Tremal-Naik. “None of those beasts would be anywhere near here if it were still roaming about the jungle. It’s a good sign.”

  “Excellent,” said Yanez. “I can almost see myself presenting the rajah with its pelt.”

  “I’ll wager it’ll be ours by morning’s end,” added Sandokan.

  “The scoundrel is bound to be impressed,” said Tremal-Naik. “The Shaligram and the pelt of the beast that devoured his children in only a few days. What more could he want? Yanez, you’re a lucky man.”

  “It isn’t over just yet, my friend. In fact, we’ve hardly begun.”

  “Do you think he’ll have more demands?”

  “It’s hard to say just yet.”

  “What about the Prime Minister?”

  “Kaksa Pharaum will remain our prisoner until Surama is proclaimed Rani of Assam. We can’t have him interfering at the wrong moment.”

  “A wise precaution,” said Sandokan. “There are bound to be a few twists and turns before we take the crown.”

  “More than I’d like— Look! There! What are the dogs up to?”

  Barking furiously, the dogs had charged in among the bushes and bamboo then rushed back to the elephants. The great beasts came to an immediate halt and raised their trunks nervously, trumpeting loudly. Even the shikari and bearers had stopped, uncertain if they should proceed.

  “What’s happening, mahout?” asked Yanez, grabbing his carbine.

  “The dogs have
caught scent of the kala baagh,” replied the conductor.

  “And your elephant has as well?”

  “It appears so. It’s refusing to advance.”

  “The tiger must be nearby then.”

  “Yes, sahib.”

  “Stop here; we’ll climb down.”

  Once the rope ladder had been lowered, they took their weapons and descended to the ground.

  “My lord!” cried the khansama. “Where are you going?”

  “To kill the kala baagh,” the Portuguese replied calmly. “Call back your shikari. We won’t have need of them.”

  That order was unnecessary for the Indians had already retreated behind the elephants to protect themselves from a sudden attack.

  “Not worth much as hunters, are they?” said Sandokan. “They may as well have stayed back at the palace.”

  “Mind the thorns,” said Yanez, eyeing the thickets of thorny bamboo before them. “They’ll rip off half our clothing if we’re not careful.”

  “The beast has chosen a good hiding place,” said Sandokan. “There’s little room to pass. Let me go first.”

  “Not this time, little brother,” replied the Portuguese. “There are too many eyes watching my every move. If I’m going to pass as a great hunter, I have to be the one who kills the kala baagh.”

  “You’re right,” smiled Sandokan. “Very well, we’ll follow and lend a hand if need be and—”

  Several yelps sounded from among a thicket twenty paces in front of them and a pair of dogs came running back.

  “It’s in there,” said Yanez, loading his rifle.

  “Is there a way in?” asked Sandokan.

  “There seems to be an opening on the right,” said Tremal-Naik. “The tiger must have made it.”

  “Lead the way, Yanez. With six shots we could slay four beasts,” said Sandokan.

  The Portuguese rounded the thicket, found the opening and silently crept in, Sandokan and Tremal-Naik following a few paces behind him. The dogs remained behind, barking their displeasure from the safety of the elephants.

  Yanez walked fifteen paces then stopped and removed his hat with his left hand.

  “Good morning, Madame baagh!” he said.

  A low growl came in reply.

 

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