The Elephant God

Home > Other > The Elephant God > Page 3
The Elephant God Page 3

by Gordon Casserly


  CHAPTER I

  THE SECRET MISSION

  "The letters, sahib," said the post orderly, blocking up the doorway of thebungalow.

  Kevin Dermot put down his book as the speaker, a Punjaubi Mohammedan inwhite undress, slipped off his loose native shoes and entered the roombarefoot, as is the custom in India.

  "For this one a receipt is needed," continued the sepoy, holding out a longofficial envelope registered and insured and addressed, like all theothers, to "The Officer Commanding, Ranga Duar, Eastern Bengal."

  Major Dermot signed the receipt and handed it to the man. As he did so thescream of an elephant in pain came to his ears.

  "What is that?" he asked the post orderly.

  "It is the _mahout_, Chand Khan, beating his _hathi_ (elephant), sahib,"replied the sepoy looking out.

  Dermot threw the unopened letters on the table, and, going out on theverandah of his bungalow, gazed down on the parade ground which lay ahundred feet below. Beyond it at the foot of the small hill on which stoodthe Fort was a group of trees, to two of which a transport elephant wasshackled by a fore and a hind leg in such a way as to render it powerless.Its _mahout_, or driver, keeping out of reach of its trunk, was beating itsavagely on the head with a bamboo. Mad with rage, the man, a grey-beardedold Mohammedan, swung the long stick with both hands and brought it downagain and again with all his force. From the gateway of the Fort above the_havildar_, or native sergeant, of the guard shouted to the _mahout_ todesist. But the angry man ignored him and continued to belabour hisunfortunate animal, which, at the risk of dislocating its leg, struggledwildly to free itself and screamed shrilly each time that the bamboo fell.This surprised Dermont, for an elephant's skull is so thick that a bloweven from the _ankus_ or iron goad used to drive it, is scarcely felt.

  The puzzled officer re-entered the bungalow and brought out a pair offield-glasses, which revealed the reason of the poor tethered brute'sscreams. For they showed that in the end of the bamboo were stuck long,sharp nails which pierced and tore the flesh of its head.

  Major Dermot was not only a keen sportsman and a lover of animals, but hehad an especial liking for elephants, of which he had had much experience.So with a muttered oath he put down the binoculars and, seizing his helmet,ran down the steep slope from his bungalow to the parade ground. As he wenthe shouted to the _mahout_ to stop. But the man was too engrossed in hisbrutality to hear him or the _havildar_, who repeated the Major's order. Itwas not until Dermot actually seized his arm and dragged him back that heperceived his commanding officer. Dropping the bamboo he strove to justifyhis ill-treatment of the elephant by alleging some petty act ofdisobedience on its part.

  His excuses were cut short.

  "_Choop raho!_ (Be silent!) You are not fit to have charge of an animal,"cried the indignant officer, picking up and examining the cruel weapon. Thesharp points of the nails were stained with blood, and morsels of skin andflesh adhered to them. Dermot felt a strong inclination to thrash thebrutal _mahout_ with the unarmed end of the bamboo, but, restraininghimself, he turned to the elephant. With the instinct of its kind it wasscraping a little pile of dust together with its toes, snuffing it up inits trunk and blowing it on the bleeding cuts on its lacerated head.

  "You poor beast! You mustn't do that. We'll find something better for you,"said the Major compassionately.

  He called across the parade ground to his white-clad Mussulman butler, whowas looking down at him from the bungalow.

  "Bring that fruit off my table," he said in Hindustani. "Also the littlemedicine chest and a bowl of water."

  When the servant had brought them Dermot approached the elephant.

  "_Khubbadar_--(take care)--sahib!" cried a coolie, the _mahout's_assistant. "He is suffering and angry. He may do you harm."

  But, while the rebuked _mahout_ glared malevolently and inwardly hoped thatthe animal might kill him, Dermot walked calmly toward it, holding out hishand with the fruit. The elephant, regarding him nervously and suspiciouslyout of its little eyes, shifted uneasily from foot to foot, and at firstshrank from him. But, as the officer stood quietly in front of it, itstretched out its trunk and smelled the extended hand. Then it touched thearm and felt it up to the shoulder, on which it let the tip of the trunkrest for a few seconds. At last it seemed satisfied that the white man wasa friend and did not intend to hurt it.

  During the ordeal Dermot had never moved; although there was every reasonto fear that the animal, either from sheer nervousness or from resentmentat the ill-treatment that it had just received, might attack him andtrample him to death. Indeed, many tame elephants, being unused toEuropeans, will not allow white men to approach them. So the Hindu cooliestood trembling with fright, while the _havildar_ and the butler werealarmed at their sahib's peril.

  But Dermot coolly peeled a banana and placed it in the elephant's mouth.The gift was tried and approved by the huge beast, which graciouslyaccepted the rest of the fruit. Then the Major said to it in the _mahouts'_tongue:

  "_Buth!_ (Lie down!)"

  The elephant slowly sank down to the ground and allowed the Major toexamine its head, which was badly lacerated by the spikes. Dermot cleansedthe wounds thoroughly and applied an antiseptic to them. The animal bore itpatiently and seemed to recognise that it had found a friend; for, when itrose to its feet again, it laid its trunk almost caressingly on Dermot'sshoulder.

  The officer stroked it and then turned to the _mahout_, who was standing inthe background.

  "Chand Khan, you are not to come near this elephant again," he said. "Isuspend you from charge of it and shall report you for dismissal. _Jao!_(Go!)"

  The man slunk away scowling. Dermot beckoned to the Hindu, who approachedsalaaming.

  "Are you this animal's coolie?"

  (The Government of India very properly recognises the lordliness of theelephant and provides him in captivity with no less than two body-servants,a _mahout_ and a coolie, whose mission in life is to wait on him.)

  The Hindu salaamed again.

  "Yes, _Huzoor_ (The Presence)," he replied.

  "How long have you been with it?"

  "Five years, _Huzoor_."

  "What is its name?"

  "_Badshah_ (The King). And indeed he is a _badshah_ among elephants. No onebut a Mussulman would treat him with disrespect. Your Honour sees that heis a _Gunesh_ and worthy of reverence."

  The animal, which was a large and well-shaped male, possessed only onetusk, the right. The other had never grown. Dermot knew that an elephantthus marked by Nature would be regarded by Hindus as sacred to _Gunesh_,their God of Wisdom, who is represented as having the head of an elephantwith a single tusk, the right. Many natives would consider the animal to bea manifestation of the god himself and worship it as a deity. So the Majormade no comment on the coolie's remark, but said:

  "What is your name?"

  "Ramnath, _Huzoor_."

  "Very well, Ramnath. You are to have sole charge of Badshah until I can getsomeone to help you. You will be his _mahout_. Take this medicine that Ihave been using and put it on as you have seen me do. Don't let the animalblow dust on the cuts. Keep them clean, and bring him up tomorrow for me tosee."

  He handed the man the antiseptic and swabs. Then he turned to the elephantand patted it.

  "Good-bye, Badshah, old boy," he said. "I don't think that Ramnath willill-treat you."

  The huge beast seemed to understand him and again touched him with the tipof its trunk.

  "Badshah knows Your Honour," said the Hindu. "He will regard you always nowas his _ma-bap_ (mother and father)."

  Dermot smiled at this very usual vernacular expression. He was accustomedto being called it by his sepoys; but he was amused at being regarded asthe combined parents of so large an offspring.

  "Badshah has never let a white man approach him before today, _Huzoor_,"continued Ramnath. "He has always been afraid of the sahibs. But he seesyou are his friend. _Salaam kuro_, Badshah!"

  And the elephant raised his trunk vert
ically in the air and trumpeted the_Salaamut_ or royal salute that he had been taught to make. Then, atRamnath's signal, he lowered his trunk and crooked it. The man put his barefoot on it, at the same time seizing one of the great ears. Then Badshahlifted him up with the trunk until he could get on to the head intoposition astride the neck. Then the new _mahout_, salaaming again to theofficer, started his huge charge off, and the elephant lumbered away withswaying stride to its _peelkhana_, or stable, two thousand feet below inthe forest at the foot of the hills on which stood the Fort of Ranga Duar.For this outpost, which was garrisoned by Dermot's Double Company of aMilitary Police Battalion, guarded one of the _duars_, or passes, throughthe Himalayas into India from the wild and little-known country of Bhutan.

  Its Commanding Officer watched the elephant disappear down the hill beforereturning to his little stone bungalow, which stood in a small gardenshaded by giant mango and jack-fruit trees and gay with the flaming linesof bougainvillias and poinsettias.

  Dismissing the post orderly, who was still waiting, Dermot threw himselfinto a long chair and took up the letters that he had flung down whenBadshah's screams attracted his attention. They were all routine officialcorrespondence contained in the usual long envelopes marked "On HisMajesty's Service." The registered one, however, held a smaller envelopeheavily sealed, marked "Secret" and addressed to him by name. In this was aletter in cipher.

  Dermot got up from his chair and, going into his bedroom, opened a trunkand lifted out of it a steel despatch box, which he unlocked. From this heextracted a sealed envelope, which he carried back to the sitting-room.First examining the seals to make sure that they were intact, he opened theenvelope and took from it two papers. One was a cipher code and on theother was the keyword to the official cipher used by the militaryauthorities throughout India. This word is changed once a year. On thereceipt of the new one every officer entitled to be in possession of itmust burn the paper on which is written the old word and send a signeddeclaration to that effect to Army Headquarters.

  Taking a pencil and a blank sheet of paper Dermot proceeded to decipher theletter that he had just received. It was dated from the Adjutant General'sOffice at Simla, and headed "Secret." It ran:

  "Sir:

  "In continuation of the instructions already given you orally, I havethe honour to convey to you the further orders of His Excellency theCommander-in-Chief in India.

  "Begins: 'Information received from the Secretary to the ForeignDepartment, Government of India, confirms the intelligence that Chineseemissaries have for some time past been endeavouring to re-establish theformer predominance of their nation over Tibet and Bhutan. In the formercountry they appear to have met with little success; but in Bhutan, takingadvantage of the hereditary jealousies of the _Penlops_, the great feudalchieftains, they appear to have gained many adherents. They aim atinstigating the Bhutanese to attempt an invasion of India through the_duars_ leading into Eastern Bengal, their object being to provoke a war.The danger to this country from an invading force of Bhutanese, even ifarmed, equipped, and led by Chinese, is not great. But its politicalimportance must not be minimised.

  "'For the most serious feature of the movement is that information receivedby the Political Department gives rise to the grave suspicion that, notonly many extremists in Bengal, but even some of the lesser rajahs andnawabs, are in treasonable communication with these outside enemies.

  "'Major Dermot, at present commanding the detachment of the MilitaryBattalion stationed at Ranga Duar, has been specially selected, on accountof his acquaintance with the districts and dialects of the _duars_ and thatpart of the Terai Forest bordering on Bhutan, to carry out a particularmission. You are to direct him to inspect and report on the suitability,for the purposes of defence against an invasion from the north, of:

  (_a_) The line of the mountain passes at an altitude of from 3000 to 6000 feet.

  (_b_) A line established in the Terai Forest itself.

  "'In addition, if this officer in the course of his investigationsdiscovers any evidence of communication between the disloyal elementsinside our territory and possible enemies across the border, he will atonce inform you direct.' Ends.

  "Please note His Excellency's orders and proceed to carry them outforthwith. You can pursue your investigations under the pretence of biggame shooting in the hills and jungle. The British officer next inseniority to you will command the detachment in your absences. You maycommunicate to him as much of the contents of this letter as you deemadvisable, impressing upon him the necessity for the strictest secrecy.

  "You will in all matters communicate directly and confidentially with thisoffice.

  "I have the honour to be, Sir,

  "Your most obedient servant."

  Here followed the signature of one of the highest military authorities inIndia.

  Dermot stared at the letter.

  "So that's it!" he thought. "It's a bigger thing than I imagined."

  He had known when he consented to being transferred from a staffappointment in Simla to the command of a small detachment of a MilitaryPolice Battalion garrisoning an unimportant frontier fort on the face ofthe Himalayas that he was being sent there for a special purpose. He hadconsented gladly; for to him the great attraction of his new post was thathe would find himself once more in the great Terai Jungle. To him it wasParadise. Before going to Simla he had been stationed with a Double Companyof the Indian Infantry Regiment to which he belonged in a similar outpostin the mountains not many miles away. This outpost had now been abolished.But while in it he used to spend all his spare time in the marvellousjungle that extended to his very door.

  The great Terai Forest stretches for hundreds of miles along the foot ofthe Himalayas, from Assam through Bengal to Garwhal and up into Nepal. Itis a sportsman's heaven; for it shelters in its recesses wild elephants,rhinoceros, bison, bears, tigers, panthers, and many of the deer tribes.Dermot loved it. He was a mighty hunter, but a discriminating one. He didnot kill for sheer lust of slaughter, and preferred to study the ways ofthe harmless animals rather than shoot them. Only against dangerous beastsdid he wage relentless war.

  Dermot knew that he could very well leave the routine work of the littlepost to his Second in Command. The fort was practically a block offortified stone barracks, easily defensible against attacks of badly armedhillmen and accommodating a couple of hundred sepoys. It was to hold the_duar_ or pass of Ranga through the Himalayas against raiders from Bhutanthat the little post had been built.

  For centuries past the wild dwellers beyond the mountains were used toswooping down from the hills on the less warlike plainsmen in search ofloot, women, and slaves. But the war with Bhutan in 1864-5 brought theborderland under the English flag, and the Pax Britannica settled on it.Yet even now temptation was sometimes too strong for lawless men.Occasionally swift-footed parties of fierce swordsmen swept down throughthe unguarded passes and raided the tea-gardens that are springing up inthe foothills and the forests below them. For hundreds of coolies work onthese big estates, and large consignments of silver coin come to thegardens for their payment.

  But there was bigger game afoot than these badly-armed raiders. The taskset Dermot showed it; and his soldier's heart warmed at the thought ofhelping to stage a fierce little frontier war in which he might come earlyon the scene.

  Carefully sealing up again and locking away the cipher code and keyword, hewent out on the back verandah and shouted for his orderly. The dwellings ofEuropeans upcountry in India are not luxurious--far from it. Away from thebig cities like Bombay, Calcutta, or Karachi, the amenities of civilisationare sadly lacking. The bungalows are lit only by oil-lamps, their floorsare generally of pounded earth covered with poor matting harbouring fleasand other insect pests, their roofs are of thatch or tiles, and suchluxuries as bells, electric or otherwise, are unknown. So the servants, whoreside outside the bungalows in the compounds, or enclosures, are summonedby the simple expedient of shouting "Boy".

  Presently the or
derly appeared.

  "Shaikh Ismail," said the Major, "go to the Mess, give my salaams to ParkerSahib, and ask him to come here."

  The sepoy, a smart young Punjabi Mussulman, clad in the white undressof the Indian Army, saluted and strode off up the hill to the prettymess-bungalow of the British officers of the detachment. In it thesubaltern occupied one room.

  When he received Dermot's message, this officer, a tall, good-looking manof about twenty-eight years of age, accompanied the orderly to his senior'squarters.

  "Come in and have a smoke, Parker," said the Major cheerily.

  The subaltern entered and helped himself to a cigarette from an open box onthe table before looking for a chair in the scantily-furnished room.

  As he struck a match he said,

  "Ismail Khan tells me you've just had trouble with that surly beast, ChandKhan".

  Dermot told him what had occurred.

  "What a _soor!_ (swine!)" exclaimed Parker indignantly. "I always knew hewas a cruel devil; but I didn't think he was quite such a brute. And topoor old Badshah too. It's a damned shame".

  "He's a good elephant, isn't he?" asked the senior.

  "A ripper. Splendid to shoot from and absolutely staunch to tiger," saidthe subaltern enthusiastically. "Major Smith--our Commandant before you,sir--was charged by a tiger he had wounded in a beat near Alipur Duar. Hemissed the beast with his second barrel. The tiger sprang at the howdah,but Badshah caught him cleverly on his one tusk and knocked him silly. TheMajor reloaded and killed the beast before it could recover."

  "Good for Badshah. He seemed to me to be a fine animal," said Dermot.

  "One of the best. We all like him; though he'll never let any white manhandle him. By the way, Ismail Khan says he permitted you to do it."

  "I doctored up his cuts. Besides, I'm used to elephants."

  "All the same you're the first sahib I've heard Of that Badshah has allowedto touch him. Do you know, the Hindus worship him. He's a _Gunesh_--Isupposed you noticed that. I've seen some of them simply go down on theirfaces in the dust before him and pray to him. There's a curious thing aboutBadshah, too. Have you heard?"

  "No. What is it?" asked the Major.

  "Well, it's a rummy thing. He's usually awfully quiet and obedient. Butsometimes he gets very restless, breaks loose, and goes off on his own intothe jungle. After a week or two he comes back by himself, as quiet as alamb. But when the fit's on him nothing will hold him. He bursts thestoutest ropes, breaks iron chains; and I believe he'd pull down the_peelkhana_ if he couldn't get away."

  "Oh, that often happens with domesticated male elephants," said Dermot."They have periodic fits of sexual excitement--get _must_, you know--and gomad while these last."

  "Oh, no. It's not that," replied the subaltern confidently. "Badshahdoesn't go _must_. It's something quite different. The jungle men aroundhere have a quaint belief about it. You see, Badshah was captured by theKheddah Department here years ago--twenty, I think. He's about forty now.He was taken away to other parts of India, Mhow for one----"

  "Yes, they used to have an elephant battery there," broke in the Major.

  "But somehow or other he got here eventually. Rather curious that he shouldhave been sent back to his birthplace. Anyhow, the natives believe thatwhen he breaks away he goes off to family reunions or to meet old pals."

  "I shouldn't be surprised," remarked Dermot, meditatively. "They're strangebeasts, elephants. No one really knows much about them. I expect the junglecalls to them, as it does to me."

  He lit a cigarette and went on,

  "But I've sent for you to talk over something important. Read that."

  He handed Parker his transcription of the cipher letter. As the subalternread it his eyes opened wider and wider. When he had finished he exclaimedjoyfully,

  "By Jove, Major, that's great. Do you think there's anything in it? Howripping it'll be if they try to come in by this pass! Won't we just knockthem! Couldn't we get some machine guns?"

  "I'm afraid we couldn't hold the Fort of Ranga Duar against a wholeinvading army, Parker. You know it isn't really defensible against aserious attack."

  "Oh, I say! Do you mean, sir, that we'd give it up to a lot of Chinks andbare-legged Bhuttias without firing a shot?"

  The Major smiled at his junior's indignation.

  "You must remember, Parker, that if an invasion comes off it will be on ascale that two hundred men won't stop. The Bhutanese are badly armed; butthey are fanatically brave. They showed that in their war with us in '64and '65. They had only swords, bows, and arrows; but they licked one of ourcolumns hollow and drove our men in headlong flight. But cheer up, Parker,if there is a show it won't be my fault if you and I don't have a good lookin."

  "Thank you, Major," said the subaltern gratefully.

  He smoked in silence for a while and then said:

  "D'you know, sir, I had an idea there was something up when Major Smith wassuddenly ordered away and you, who didn't belong to us, were sent here fromSimla. I'd heard of you before, not only as a great _shikari_--the nativeseverywhere in these jungles talk a lot about you--but also as a keensoldier. A fellow doesn't usually come straight from a staff job at ArmyHeadquarters to a small outpost like this for nothing."

  Dermot laughed.

  "Unless he has got into trouble and is sent off as a punishment," he said."But that didn't happen to be my case. However, I was delighted to leaveSimla. Better the jungle a thousand times."

  "Yes; Simla's rather a rotten place, I believe," remarked the subalternmeditatively. "Too many brass hats and women. They're the curse of India,each of them. And I'm sure the women do the most harm."

  "Well, steer clear of the latter, and don't become one of the former," saidDermot with a laugh, rising from his chair, "then you'll have a peacefullife--but you won't get on in your profession."

 

‹ Prev