We formally bowed to the army general, who nodded to my father.
“Subba-sahib, the twenty-four rhinos were bad enough. But now the warden tells me that a giant tusker has also been killed,” the conservator-sahib said. “What are we going to do, Subba-sahib? Must His Majesty call in the army?”
Before Subba-sahib could respond, shouts from the far end of the stable interrupted him. Coming up the path from the jungle was Hira Prashad. Following behind him was the dead bull’s wild herd. The officials, except for the army general and Ganesh Lal, jumped back into their jeep as soon as they saw them. The elephants moved slowly, like they were guiding a newborn. Hira Prashad was heading straight for where we stood with Doctor-sahib.
When he was twenty feet from us, Hira Prashad turned around and walked into the circle of females. They parted and we saw for the first time the elephant in their midst. Limping badly, surrounded by the adults, was not a newborn calf but what looked to be a ten-year-old female. Her right front foot had been caught in a poacher’s wire snare, part of which was now embedded and swollen around it.
“Doctor-sahib,” my father said, “I think that Hira Prashad recognizes you and trusts you to heal this elephant like you did for the Baba’s tiger. He has brought her to you.”
“Subba-sahib, to treat this young female and remove the snare, I will have to get next to it to inject a tranquilizer. I cannot fire a tranquilizer through the blowgun like I did for the tiger. Elephant skin is too tough. I worry that if I raise my darting rifle, the elephants might panic. They could charge us or flee.”
Seeing there was no immediate danger, the conservator-sahib came out of the vehicle to talk with us, but the warden wanted no part. He stayed in the jeep. Our drivers and the officials stood around, debating what to do next.
Kanchi did not wait for them. She grabbed some kuchis meant for the little jumbos and walked straight up to the suffering elephant. She fed the injured female from her hand. Hira Prashad stood next to her and rumbled to the others. Kanchi started to stroke the young female’s trunk. Then she stood on her tiptoes and whispered something into its ear.
“Doctor-sahib, I think it is now safe to inject the tranquilizer and treat the wound. Come, Nandu and I will help you,” my father said.
The wild herd stood by and watched from a distance. It occurred to me that in this moment we were all on a magical bridge between worlds. For this brief time, there was no wild and no human, only healing and help from family.
Doctor-sahib gave the young female a quick injection and in minutes she was on her side. Rita and Indra carried buckets of hot water. After Doctor-sahib removed the wire snare, Kanchi held it up for the elephants to see and tossed it in front of them so they could smell it. Then she went back to helping Doctor-sahib clean the wound.
“At least this is one elephant we can save,” said Doctor-sahib.
Hira Prashad and the older females gathered around the snare and touched it with their trunks, like they were trying to smell the person who had set it. I held the elephant’s ear while Doctor-sahib gave his patient the antidote to the sedative in a large vein. She clambered back to her feet in thirty seconds.
Hira Prashad rumbled deeply, offering thanks to Doctor-sahib and Kanchi, and the wild herd and our stable elephants echoed their thanks, too. I knew it could not last. But for a moment we were one herd.
anchi had more time on her hands since Maila had left. Her thoughts drifted to becoming a mahout. I told her she would be great. I did not tell her it would be a battle with my father, not to mention the other drivers.
She watched Indra and me climb on Hira Prashad. I knew she would want to join us. “Where are you going, Nandu?” she called.
Indra looked at me. We had made a pact not to tell anybody.
“Subba-sahib told us that the king has dispatched an army platoon of Gurkhas to catch the poachers,” I told her. “Indra and I are going to the ridge to see if we can see them coming.”
This was a bit of a lie. I could not wait for an army to come. Every day that our animals had no protection was a day more could die. I had persuaded Indra to come with me. It did not take many words. We were going after the poachers before they could strike again.
“I am coming with you,” she said, giving orders, just like Subba-sahib.
“Kanchi, you are needed here,” I said. “Besides, it is not safe now. There are thugs in the jungle, waiting to attack.”
“I am not afraid. I want to help protect our elephants and the rhinos, the families of Rona and Ritu and the little jumbos. They are my family, too!” Kanchi shouted.
Indra rolled his eyes. I shook my head.
“I am coming, and if you do not let me on Hira Prashad, I will follow you on foot,” Kanchi added.
Even though Indra and I were not persuaded, my elephant was. He took two steps backward and dropped to his knees to let Kanchi climb up. There is no arguing with an elephant, especially my tusker.
When Kanchi was comfortably situated behind me in the saddle, she said, “Thank you, Hira Prashad.”
“So you can talk to elephants now,” I said, joking, but also slightly jealous, since it did appear to be the case.
I drove Hira Prashad to our favorite spot, the ridge where he had saved my life during the earthquake. This way Kanchi would think that we were looking northeast to Kathmandu, but I was really scanning the river below for signs of a camp. The poachers were hiding somewhere in our jungle. I was certain they were still here, somewhere near water.
Soon we were trotting along on a path bordered by blooming wild butterfly bush. The perfume covered us in its sweet fragrance.
“Indra, do you remember the story that Father Autry told us when we went to the Bheri River Valley? The one about Hannibal, who crossed the high mountains on his war elephants? His tuskers surprised and scared the Romans, and they surrendered. Too bad we cannot train these Gurkhas to ride elephants. It would be such a fitting victory for the poachers to be defeated by the very animals they killed.”
When we reached the top of the ridge, Indra and I stood atop Hira Prashad. I took up my binoculars and scanned the horizon in the direction of Kathmandu.
“That is a silly idea, Nandu. You will not see the army marching from Kathmandu. It is too hilly. You cannot even see the road.” Kanchi was another smart one.
“I thought we might see a sign. Some dust from afar.”
Kanchi eyed me suspiciously. “I think you want to protect the animals yourself. And we should!”
Kanchi turned herself around and looked out over the landscape to the south. I sat down next to her. “You are right. We cannot sit by and wait for the army. If one more animal dies, and I could have saved it . . .”
“You do not need to explain it to me,” Kanchi said. “Nandu, I have to tell you a secret that Maila told me. He told me not to tell anyone.”
“Is it about the poachers?”
“Maybe. He said that when he was out hunting, he saw two men camped near Clear Lake. They saw him and he ran and hid. He is so good at hiding. He waited until night to return to camp.”
“Was this the night he brought me the monkey?”
Kanchi nodded.
“They could still be there!”
Indra and I looked at one another. Hira Prashad had been right to bring Kanchi along. We headed down from the ridge toward the trail to Clear Lake. The lake was still two hours away, but we rode in silence. Elephants can move like ghosts when they want to. Maybe Hira Prashad wanted revenge, too. If he charged the poachers, I already made up my mind that I would not stop him.
When we reached the southern edge of Clear Lake, no one was about.
“Kanchi,” I whispered. “This is the exact spot where Subba-sahib and Devi Kali found me, when I was guarded by the dhole.”
I had no sooner said the words than I saw my pack. The leader, skinny with a slightly hunched back, looked at us once, then started to run along a different trail. The pack came to a sudden stop and they all loo
ked back at us again, as if they were asking for us to follow.
“Kanchi,” I whispered. “You wait here on Hira Prashad. Indra and I will come back as soon as we see what is ahead. Do not climb down.”
Indra and I followed the dhole on foot. When they raised their tails we dropped down on all fours to scout up ahead. I smelled the smoke of a campfire. We were downwind of whoever was tending it. They probably kept it smoky to keep the horseflies at bay. Two landed on my arm, but I dared not slap at them.
We crawled closer and looked through the leaves of the wild coffee bushes. Crouched in front of the fire was the one-eyed Maroon. He had not drowned when Hira Prashad chased him into the Great Sand Bar River. This rat had crawled out of the water. Eight other men were standing around a buckboard wagon attached to a pair of oxen. Three of them I recognized. There was the village headman that confronted us at the Khatta jungle and the other who had wanted to spear the Baba’s tiger. The third was part of the same village mob. They were the ones who were likely feeding the poachers information about the locations of the rhinos, and about the movements of our stable. Somehow, I half expected Ganesh Lal to be among them or the guards from the Chisapani and Bheri posts, but they were not there. Nor was the man from the Bichia bazaar, selling the ivory trinkets.
The biggest surprise though was when the man driving the wagon turned around. He was the one who had stared at Hira Prashad that day that he and the boy were fishing by the Great Sand Bar River. Now I knew that man was not the boy’s father. Like Kanchi, his parents had probably taken money in return for the boy’s help. They were not fishing that day. They were spying on us and the wildlife.
I was shaking from the suddenness of these discoveries. Then I regained my senses and focused on our mission. I whispered to Indra, “Here is the whole gang.”
He nodded. “Nandu, we should go back and make sure that Kanchi is still sitting on Hira Prashad and not preparing to drive him into their camp. She would do it!”
The poachers kept a rack of guns propped between two trees. We could not drive Hira Prashad into their camp. It was too dangerous. We would need more help. I nodded to Indra, and we crawled back.
Kanchi had followed my request, surprisingly enough, and was still sitting on Hira Prashad, swatting at the horseflies trying to bite both her and my elephant with a branch she had cut on her own.
“Kanchi, we have found them. But they have many guns. You and Indra must drive Hira Prashad back to the stable. I can track them better alone. You must alert Subba-sahib and have him bring the men from the stable to Clear Lake. We will meet you back here.”
“Nandu, we should stay together,” Kanchi said.
“No, I am going to follow the two on the wagon to see where they take it. They may still have the ivory and rhino horns in it.” I thought of what Father Autry said about tracking the poachers back to their ringleaders.
Kanchi did not want to leave. I looked pleadingly at Indra. “I will go, Nandu. Kanchi, you come with me. We will meet Nandu here with all the drivers and elephants and the police.” He tapped Hira Prashad on the shoulder, but the great tusker would not leave my side.
I whispered in Hira Prashad’s giant ear and shared my new idea. “We will catch these men, Hira Prashad. Please take Kanchi back to the stable and go get Subba-sahib and the other elephants.” No more commands were needed. My tusker turned and headed back to the stable.
I ran down the trail that paralleled the most direct track through the forest—the one that the driver of the wagon would take. I ran for five minutes as fast as I could, until I saw the wagon again. I slowed to a walk, but stayed close enough to keep it in view. I could see the driver, the bearded man, and sitting next to him was the village headman who had confronted the Baba. He had a rifle in his lap and another on a sling over his shoulder. There must have been something valuable under the tarp covering the wagon.
I followed the wagon out of the jungle for the next two hours. The driver turned right at a fork in the forest trail, then headed toward Gobrechar, the village that is the home of the local landlord, the one we call the Python. This was the demon who nearly killed Hira Prashad for his ivory before Dilly and I rescued him.
The wagon took another turn down a dirt road, and before I knew it we were back where my contact with Hira Prashad first began—at the large house and courtyard belonging to the Python. The village headman got out and opened the gate to the courtyard to let the wagon roll in.
How strange to be back here, looking into this wretched courtyard, and yet, it made perfect sense that the Python was behind the poachers. I peeked over the wall. And when I was sure no one was watching, I carefully approached the window to see inside.
Sitting in a large chair across from the Python was Dhungel-sahib, the warden.
My anger shot up like a geyser, but I knew I had to stay quiet and stick with our plan. We would catch the warden later and he could join the Python and the Maroons in prison.
I approached the wagon. Barely lifting the canvas, I saw their crimes: Inside were the tusks of the giant male elephant and the horns of twenty-four rhinos. I thought about how many animals had died, enough rhinos to start a population in a new reserve. Now their giant bodies were reduced to two dozen horns and a pair of tusks.
A hand lightly tapped my shoulder.
I spun around to find Kanchi. She had been following me the whole time.
I motioned for her to sneak back out of the courtyard. Even outside the walls, we had to stay quiet, so I could not express my fury at her. We heard the wagon moving again. It rolled out the gate and left the Python’s residence. We had to keep going.
The wailing of the peacocks covered up the noise of the squeaking of the wagon frame as it moved through the narrow jungle track. We walked all afternoon in the cool late-day breeze with the dried leaves fluttering down from the trees. It was mid-November and the temperature would drop at dusk to just above freezing. Neither Kanchi nor I had on warm clothes. But we had to keep moving to see where these poachers were going. I was following Father Autry’s advice to find the men on the other side of the deal.
We walked quickly but always keeping a safe distance. The wagon would speed up and then slow down, speed up and slow down, making us tense and exhausted. The long day had pushed us beyond what I thought either of us could endure.
When we reached the edge of the forest, before the vegetable fields bordering the town, the bearded Maroon stopped for a break. Thankfully, we could take a short rest, too. We ducked behind the trunk of an old acacia tree, now full of egrets about to roost for the night. A squirt of fresh bird droppings landed on Kanchi’s back. I wiped it off quickly, brushing my arm over her, like I was guiding her to crouch lower. I said nothing. But in the Borderlands, we believe having a bird’s droppings land on you brings bad luck. We did not need any more; we had plenty enough.
I did not know what to do with Kanchi. I could not send her back alone, nor could I let the wagon out of my sight. We simply had to keep moving.
By the time we reached Gularia, it was almost dark. The wagon stopped at a boardinghouse outside town.
The two poachers got down from the wagon and grabbed their rifles, standing guard, waiting. From across the street, we could make out another man coming out of the building. He walked over to the poachers and lifted the canvas covering the buckboard.
The man looked pleased. He signaled for two more men to come over. They quickly loaded the ivory and horns from the wagon into a jeep. When they were done, the jeep motor turned on, but the men did not leave. Finally, a third man stepped out of the house. I squinted in the fading light. He looked familiar. When the jeep’s headlights illuminated his face, I recognized Ganesh Lal instantly.
Ganesh Lal handed the poachers a large envelope, then jumped into the jeep.
“Kanchi, I was right. Ganesh Lal is a part of this.” Before I could say more, the jeep roared off, with Ganesh Lal in it, leaving behind the poachers and the now-empty wagon. We had been to
o late. The horns and ivory were on their way, destined to the carvers and medicine stalls. My heart felt so heavy. Kanchi squeezed my arm. She could sense my dismay. Maybe we could at least catch this gang and they could report that traitor Ganesh Lal. How ironic, I thought, that his name was Ganesh, after the elephant god. What dishonor he brought to it.
Under a bare bulb hung outside the house, we watched the man with the beard—the fake fisherman—counting his money. It took some time. He said something to the village headman and they both laughed. The poachers climbed back into the seats of the buckboard wagon and headed off the way we had come. “Nandu, they are all leaving,” said Kanchi. “We must notify the police.”
“Kanchi, I am going to follow the empty wagon. You go hide at the edge of town in the jungle by that old acacia tree. Wait there until I come for you. Take a rest and put my shirt over you to stay warm. Do not go to the police.” I remembered my last time going to the Gularia police station, and I did not want Kanchi to have to spend a night in jail as I had.
I waited until the wagon was one hundred yards up the track before I started following. A half mile later, I had a sense that Kanchi was not far behind. I had no choice now but to let her stay with me.
he wagon continued rolling along the dirt track out of Gularia carrying two rich men who had made our jungle much poorer by their crimes. After we turned once, I thought we were headed back to Clear Lake, but I could not be sure.
Indra must have made it back to the stable, I thought. By now the police would be on the way. It would be too dangerous for our elephants to confront so many armed poachers without the police.
Kanchi and I kept up a steady whisper. The turning wheels and the bouncing of the buckboard on the rough track made enough noise to cover up our voices. “Kanchi, I think they are heading back to their camp. We will hide in the boulders above Clear Lake and wait until the men from our stable and the police arrive.”
“Nandu, we must stay awake the whole time.”
A Circle of Elephants Page 15