Alive in the Jungle: A Story for the Young

by Mary Hazelton Blanchard Wade

  *CHAPTER XIV.*

  _*THE HOMEWARD ROAD.*_

  The old hunter's forethought was apparent now; for the child at his backbegan to howl most dismally as poor little Carl became aware that he wasbeing carried away from his forest home. Oliver's sweetmeats wereexhausted, and words, entreaties, and caresses were lavished on him invain.

  Through his wonderful power of observation, and the experiences of hisadventurous life, old Tara knew as accurately as any scientificprofessor how surely sound descends. Ah, what if the wolves shouldawaken!

  He knew the whole pack were sleeping in the dark shadows of the gorgewhere he had found the child, and he knew also that nothing makes a wildbeast so angry as being wakened from its mid-day sleep. Carly's wildhowl grew louder and louder--it might bring death upon them all--andnothing would still it.

  But for the sudden breeze which had tempered the air, Oliver would havedropped with the noonday heat. As it was, he found it almost impossibleto keep up with his companions. His thirst was becoming unbearable,when Tara espied in the distance one of the water-sheds which are builtall over the sides of the hills where there is water. The little partymade their way towards it, grateful for the refreshing shade its roofafforded. In the shed there was a range of stone troughs, filled fromthe running stream by which it was built; and round these troughs were arow of pipes, some made of reeds and some from hollow trees. It was acurious sight to see them spouting out water with a gentle, tricklingfall. A native hill-man had brought up his oxen to drink, and whilstthey slaked their thirst, he was smoking his pipe in the cool, dampshelter. Two women were filling their pitchers, and after the fashionof hill-mothers, they had laid their babies to sleep under thewater-spouts. The Thibetan caught sight of the little black facessleeping so peacefully, and ran to place their howling burden besidethem. She laid little Carl down, with his head within a few inches of aspouting reed. The effect was instantaneous. The eyes and mouth closedslowly, and the child fell into a profound, sweet sleep, which she knewwould last as long as they left him under the spout.

  Tara Ghur was talking to the herdsman, who lent him his pipe. Oliverbegged a draught of water from one of the women's pitchers, and washedhis face and hands at one of the many rills that were flowing soprettily around him. He was thinking that Bona would consider herself aqueen in the plainest of the necklaces worn by the ragged and dirtycreature before him. He was wondering whether it would be safe to leaveher with the sleeping child whilst he went on with the shikaree to theRana's castle.

  But no; he decided Mr. and Mrs. Desborough would never forgive him if helost sight of their scarcely recovered treasure. No; he must wait untilCarl was so soundly asleep that they could take him up and carry himaway without waking him.

  "Rest, sahib," urged the hunter, pointing to the trickling reeds.

  Hungry as he was, Oliver laid himself down, intending to watch, not tosleep. But the heat and the drowsy influences of the gentle shower-bathovercame the boy, and he was soon as fast asleep as the child. After hisnight's adventures in the forest, the sensation was most delightful.Care and fear seemed to vanish, and his dreams transported him to thebeauties of fairy-land. The horned heads of the oxen came alarminglynear, but they did not disturb the blissful tranquillity in which helay, as if he were spell-bound.

  Tara's hand upon his shoulder roused him at last. He heard the faint,low musical tinkle of a distant bell from the idol-temple, where theRana worshipped his monkey-headed divinity; where he took his young sonsto be sprinkled with consecrated water, and have their limbs touchedwith all imaginable substances, until Rattam was thoroughly cross. Hewas crosser than usual this morning, being bored out with the tediouschildish ceremonies which he had had to sit through in stately silence.

  It was delightful to receive a message from a native woman, as he cameout of the temple, to tell him the hunter had returned, and was waitingwith the young sahib at the water-shed.

  When the shikaree touched Oliver on the shoulder, the milk-white ass,the gold-fringed umbrella, and the crowd of dusky attendants wereadvancing with Rattam across the intervening plateau.

  "What does my brother in so mean a place," he asked, "when tiffin waitshim in our castle-hall?"

  Oliver stretched himself and rubbed his eyes, not at once rememberingall that had happened. Then recollection came back, and he sprang tohis feet, pointing to the sleeping child, and gave Rattam's hand ahearty Yorkshire grip.

  The girlish young Oriental smiled, although he felt as if his fingerswould all be out of joint: and pointing to a led ass behind him, signedto Oliver to mount.

  The Thibetan had hid herself in the shed. But Rattam would not comenear poor Carl. "He will bite," he said warningly, and his attendantsshared in his belief. Not one of them dared touch Carl.

  "Give him to me," shouted Oliver; for it was easy to see the Thibetanwas growing fearful by contagion.

  Oliver tumbled into the saddle. The hunter gently lifted up the childand laid it across his knees. A running syce led the ass, and anothercarried an umbrella over it, shading Oliver and his novel burden fromthe dazzling sun. Rattam rode beside him.

  Tara Ghur came up, bending to the very ground before them. He wasanxious to be the first to carry the good news to the search-party belowthe koond. He was thinking of his well-earned reward, and he did notwant another messenger to share it. So they bade him go.

  Rattam called to his attendants to halt under the leafy arches of abanyan tree, that they might watch Tara leaping down into the koond,springing from bough to bough, as if food and sleep were luxuries, to beenjoyed in leisure hours alone. Then Oliver blamed his sleepy head thathe had not spoken again about the wolf.

  "O Rattam," he urged, "you have one empty den in the corner of yourlovely gardens; will you have it there? Think of the love that couldtransform a wolf! You should have seen its face as I did, when we firstlooked down into the pit. It made me feel there is nothing in the worldso beautiful as love--nothing so strong. And when we had got the childaway, I could not bear to let Tara hurt the wolf. The same God who madeus made it. God is love. Does not he care for the whole world around,for everything he has made? How will he look on the cruelty of leavingthe noble brute to perish in the pit?--and I've done that."

  "Forget it," said Rattam; "remember only you have rescued the child."

  Oliver hugged the sleeping bundle of life in his arms. "Oh, don'tmistake me!" he said passionately. "But now we have got him away, it issuch cruelty to leave the wolf tied as I have tied it. Surely you mustsee it is. And I have let the hunter go."

  Perhaps Rattam did not see just what Oliver desired he should; but theyoung idolater was struck by his companion's earnestness. With all aHindu's reluctance to take the life of the animals around him, he had nocare for the cruelty of leaving the wolf to perish; yet, like a flash inthe darkness, a sense of the difference between him and the English boywas stirring in his heart.

  "It is too much like striking a fallen foe," urged Oliver, as theyresumed their journey.

  "Nay," returned Rattam; "I accept the gift: the wolf is mine. There ismy father."

  The Rana in his everyday dress of ordinary white cotton could only bedistinguished from the headman of his village by the silver ring on hisfinger and the fineness of the shawl about his waist. He was drivingback from the village when he encountered his son.

  Meanwhile the old shikaree had raised the signal of success agreed upon.He had sent up a tall column of smoke whilst Oliver slept, by settingfire to a patch of grass. The nearest scout had seen and repeated it.The tiny flags on the long bamboos which his companions carried hadwaved the good news from the jagged cliffs across the temple ruins, frompoint to point along the broken ground, until it reached the father'sears.

  The boys glanced round, and saw the wearied jogies swarming up the steepascent above the koond, towards the slip of table-land on the verge ofthe forest behind the Rana's castle.


  Foremost of all came Mr. Desborough up the precipitous path, until thefooting for the well-trained mule he rode became too precarious. Thenhe sprang to the ground, flung the bridle to his syce, and hurried alongon foot. The two friends following copied his example.

  Rattam and Oliver turned back to meet them; then they perceived the oldshikaree running before them as their guide. His tattered garments wereso exactly the colour of the waving grass and scattered bushes throughwhich he was leading them, that he looked more like some hugegrasshopper than a living man.

  They saw him pointing to the castle wall and gesticulating franticallyin all the pride of his hardly-earned success, counting on the momentwhen he should lay the rescued little one in its father's arms. Then fardown behind the lingerers of the scattered party they heard the echo ofthe dandy-wallahs' song. Despite the stubborn temper of the thing hewas riding, Oliver did manage to press forward, and lifting up thesleepy child, he held it conspicuously before him. Of course he wakedup Carl, and the howling wail again began.

  Was ever any sound so grateful to Mr. Desborough's straining ears?

  "There, there; listen!" he exclaimed, as he cleared the ground betweenthem and came up panting.

  "Here is the child, Mr. Desborough!" cried Oliver. "Now tell us, is heyours?"

  "Turned nurse, my boy?" laughed the major.

  Oliver answered with a shrug and a grimace, growing ridiculous, as hefelt their task was accomplished.

  Mr. Desborough sat down with the child on a lichen-covered stone. Wherewere the clear blue eyes? Gummed up.--Where was the soft fair hair? Ashock of dirt.

  The child snapped savagely at the hand that was fondling him, andrenewed his wail.

  "Take care," said Rattam. "I warned you it would be dangerous," backinghis ass as he spoke.

  "Quiet!" The single word fell from the major's lips in the stern tonesof military command. The howl ceased, and the child lay passive in Mr.Desborough's arms. They soon found out how well it had learned theall-important lesson of obedience in the wild wolf's nest.

  "A good scrub would be an improvement, I am thinking," remarked thedeputy, with more drollery in the corner of his eye than Oliver hadimagined him to possess.

  The whole party were gathering now. They drew together under the banyantree. In its grateful shadow there was room for all; for its archingbranches had struck root as they touched the ground, forming asuccession of leafy cloisters, until a grove had grown from a singletree. The overwhelming thankfulness in Mr. Desborough's heart lay fartoo deep for words as he looked the child well over, and felt it was hisown--his Carl.

  There were laughter and rejoicing all around him; but his brow was gravewith the depth of his gratitude when the dandy-wallahs came up. AsKathleen peeped from her swinging carriage, she saw but one face, andthat was her father's.

  What did it mean?

  He looked up and smiled at her. His eye was off the child just for onemoment. Carl sprang into the air with a bound, leaping off like a frogto the tufted grass. Everybody ran--even Rattam. But Kathleen and herbearers faced him. They set the dandy on the ground, and ran round andround, scaring the queer little creature back, but not daring to touchhim. Kathleen, peeping through the curtains of her dandy, saw it all.The great love that was throbbing in her childish heart shut out everythought of fear. The strange wild thing gave another leap. She tumbledout of the dandy, and as it touched the grass, with hands outspread, shecaught it in her arms. The thing seemed nothing better than a humanfrog, with half-blind eyes and champing teeth. Save where the leavesclung to it, as if they had been glued, the little figure was completelynaked and covered with slimy dirt. What did it matter? she loved himthe more.

  "You will have hard work to get the child home in safety yet," saidMajor Iffley; "you will have to secure it somehow. Borrow a cummer-bandand swathe it round and round like a mummy."

  "No bad thought," added the deputy; "something must be done."

  Mr. Desborough was kneeling by his children. Before the major hadfinished speaking, an elderly bearer in Rattam's train, who looked as ifhe had huddled himself into a clean sheet to attend his young chieftainat the temple service, threw off this additional covering at a sign fromhis master and laid it at the sahib's feet.

  "Put it round us both, papa," said Kathleen, "and then Carl won't mindit." Mr. Desborough thought the sunbeam she had been trying to entraphad made its home in the happy eyes uplifted so pleadingly to his. "Hewill be good with me, papa; he always was," she added.

  The deputy was searching in his niece's dandy. Yes; Bona had understoodall his hasty directions. At the back of the cushions there was thestore of cakes, sufficiently English-looking to delight a child. "Here,Oliver," he said; "feed it."

  "It." The word jarred on Kathleen's ears. "It is not it," shepersisted indignantly; "it is my pretty Carl."

  Mr. Desborough took the cake from Oliver's hand and fed Carl himself.

  The cake was devoured; and whilst he filled the hungry mouth, the majorpassed the long length of calico quickly round Carl's neck, envelopingarms and feet, until the wild little harlequin was reduced to a greatwhite ball, at least in appearance. How fast the cakes were vanishing!

  "O Bona!" muttered Oliver, too proud to take the share he was longingfor, "she might have sent us more."

  No one but Rattam heard the low-voiced grumble.

  "Sahib," he said, "my father awaits you," waving his hand in thedirection of the castle wall.

  But home was the word. "Yes, home," repeated Mr. Desborough--"home tohis mother."

  "Try a tub first," suggested the major.

  Rattam was speaking to his shikaree.

  "You have done my bidding, and you have done it well," he said like aprince. "Now bring me home the wolf you have caught. Bring it homealive to the vacant den in the castle gardens."

  Tara Ghur salaamed before his chieftain till the dust rose up in a cloudbetween them. Oliver grasped the hand of his dusky friend once more.How was it he was always feeling Rattam more of a man than himself, orfar too much of a girl?

  Now that poor little Carl was made safe, so that he could not hurt anyone, Rattam alighted, and drew nearer to the group on the grass.

  "Talk to Carly again, Kathleen," Mr. Desborough was saying; "I believehe knows you. But you must not kiss him until I tell you it is safe,"he added quickly, as she threw her arms around her long-lost brother.

  Kathleen paused, and looked up in her father's face, bewildered for amoment.

  "Then I will not do it, papa. I'll never forget again to mind what yousay."

  The hand which had snatched her back patted her fondly on the cheek, andthe bitter pain which Kathleen had felt so long vanished altogether asher father answered,--

  "Yes: I can trust you now, and I am going to trust you to take Carlhome, my darling."

  He put them both into the dandy, and drew the curtains closely round, sothat nothing could be seen by the children. Bona's great bag of cakeswas on Kathleen's lap, and her father showed her how to give Carl a bitewithout letting her fingers go near enough to his teeth to be in dangerof an angry snap.

  Mr. Desborough had left himself a peep-hole, so that his eye was neveroff his children for a moment as he walked by the side of the dandy.Had ever father such a journey before?

  "Now, Kathy," he said cheerily, "you can do what no one else can do: youcan make Carly listen. See how his eyes follow yours! Try and waken uphis old love; you were with him to the last. Think of all that he wasfond of in his nursery days; no one knows but you."

  "Sahib! sahib!" entreated the coolies round, "no trust it with thelittle beebee--no trust it; grow angry, tear and bite."

  Even the major and the deputy looked on doubtfully. They had knownKathleen only as a little wilful, heedless thing; but now they saw thebetter, higher nature in the child, expanding through the sorrow and thejoy she had felt so deeply,--just as young plants grow and blossom whensunshine follows rain.

  "I should think myself a
happy man, Desborough, if I had such anotherfairy to call me father," observed the major, as they listened toKathleen's cooing voice as she chattered on.

  "O Carly, don't you know your own, own sissy? Now eat this, you dear,and Kath will give you plenty more, all so nice. There, there!"

  "That sahib would blow the conch shell for a daughter," remarked Rattamthoughtfully. "I remember how our people blew it loudly for joy whenAglar was born; but when my little sister Deodee came, they all began tosigh and lament. I really think it would be well for us if that werechanged."

  "Then change it all you can," retorted Oliver. "Some day you and I willbe men. But you need not wait for that; you are a brother now."

  Rattam went home with a shadow on his brow, and a hunger in his heartfor better things. We know of the promise that such hunger shall besatisfied at last; but Rattam knew only the favourite Hindu saying, "Asit has always been, so it always will be," which fell like a wet blanketon his new-born wish to try. Yet that one day had not been lived invain.