CHAPTER IV
THE MADNESS OF BADSHAH
Badshah's rescue of Dermot from the rogue caused him to be more veneratedthan ever by the natives. The Mohammedan sepoys of the detachment, whoshould have had no sympathy with Hindu superstitions, began to regard himwith awe, impressed by the firm belief in his supernatural nature held bytheir co-religionists among the _mahouts_ and elephant coolies. Among thescattered dwellers in the jungle and the Bhuttias on the hills, his fame,already widespread, increased enormously; and these ignorant folk, partlydevil-worshippers, looked on him as half-god, half-demon.
Dermot's feelings towards the gallant animal deepened into strongaffection, and the perfect understanding between the two made the sympathybetween the best-trained horse and its rider seem a very small thing. Theelephant loved the man; and when the Major was on his neck, Badshah seemedto need neither touch of hand or foot nor spoken word to make himcomprehend his master's wishes.
Such a state of affairs was very helpful to Dermot in the execution of histask of secret enquiry and exploration. He was thus able to dispense withany attendant for the elephant in his jungle wanderings, which sometimeslasted several days and nights without a return to the Fort. He wanted nowitness to his actions at these times. Badshah needed no attention on theseexcursions. The jungle everywhere supplied him with food, and water wasalways to be found in gullies in the hills. It was unnecessary to shacklehim at night when Dermot slept beside him in the forest. The elephant neverstrayed, but stayed by his man to watch over him through the dangeroushours of darkness. He either stood by the sleeper all night or else gentlylay down near him with the same consummate carefulness that a cow-elephantuses when she lowers her huge body to the ground beside her young calf.When Badshah guarded Dermot no harm from beast of prey could come to him.
While the forest provided sustenance for the animal, the soldier,accustomed though he was to roughing it, found it advisable to supplementits resources for himself. But with some ship's biscuits and a few tins ofpreserved meat he was ready to face the jungle for days. Limes and bananasgrew freely in the foothills. Besides his rifle he usually carried a shotgun, for jungle fowl abounded in the forest, and _kalej_, the black andwhite speckled pheasant, in the lower hills, and both were excellenteating.
Dermot carried out a thorough survey of the borderland between Bhutan andIndia, making accurate military sketches and noting the ranges of allpositions suitable for defence, artillery, or observation. Mounted onBadshah's neck he ascended the steep hills--elephants are excellentclimbers--and explored every known _duar_ and defile.
At the same time he kept a keen look-out for messengers passing betweendisloyal elements inside the Indian frontier and possible enemies beyondit. His knowledge of the language spoken by the Bhuttia settlers withinthe border, mostly refugees from Bhutan who had fled thither to escapethe tyranny and exactions of the officials, enabled him to question thehill-dwellers as to the presence and purpose of any strangers passingthrough. He gradually established a species of intelligence departmentamong these colonists, whose dread and hatred of their former rulershave made them very pro-British. Through them he was able to keep acheck on the comings and goings of trans-frontier Bhutanese, who arepermitted to enter India freely, although an English subject is notallowed by his own Government to penetrate into Bhutan. Despite thisprohibition--so Dermot discovered--many Bengalis had lately passedbackwards and forwards across the frontier, a thing hitherto unheard of.That members of this timorous race should venture to enter such alawless and savage country as Bhutan and that, having entered it, theylived to come back proved that there must be a strong understandingbetween many Bhutanese officials and a certain disloyal element inIndia.
Dermot was returning through the forest from one of his excursions in thehills, when an opportunity was afforded him of repaying the debt that heowed to Badshah for the saving of his life. They had halted at midday, andthe man, seated on the ground with his back to a tree, was eating hislunch, while the elephant had strayed out of sight among the trees insearch of food.
Beside Dermot lay his rifle and a double-barrelled shot gun, both loaded.Having eaten he lit a cheroot and was jotting down in his notebook theinformation that he had gathered that morning, when a shrill trumpet fromthe invisible Badshah made him grasp his rifle. Skilled in the knowledge ofthe various sounds that elephants make he knew by the brassy note of thisthat the animal was in deadly fear. He sprang up to go to his assistance,when Badshah burst through the trees and came towards him at his fastestpace, his drooping ears and tail and outstretched trunk showing that he wasterrified.
Dermot, bringing his rifle to the ready, looked past him for the cause ofhis flight, but could see no pursuer. He wondered what could have soalarmed the usually courageous animal. Suddenly the knowledge came to him.As Badshah rushed towards him with every indication of terror the man sawthat, moving over the ground with an almost incredible speed, a largeserpent came in close pursuit. Even in the open across which Badshah wasfleeing it was actually gaining on the elephant, as with an extraordinaryrapidity it poured the sinuous curves of its body along the earth. It wasevident that, if the chase were continued into the dense undergrowth whichwould hamper the animal more than the snake, the latter would prove thewinner in the desperate race.
Dermot recognised the pursuer. From its size and the fact that it wasattacking the elephant it could only be that most dreadful and almostlegendary denizen of the forest, the hamadryad, or king-cobra. All otherbig snakes in India are pythons, which are not venomous. But this, thedeadliest, most terrible of all Asiatic serpents, is very poisonous andwill wantonly attack man as well as animals. Badshah had probably disturbedit by accident--it might have been a female guarding its eggs--and in itsvicious rage it had made an onslaught on him.
The peril of the poisoned tooth is the sole one that a grown elephant needfear in the jungle, and Badshah seemed to know that only his man could savehim. And so in his extremity he fled to Dermot.
The soldier hurriedly put down his rifle and picked up the fowling-piece.The elephant rushed past him, and then the snake seemed to sense theman--its feeble sight would not permit it to see him. It swerved out ofits course and came towards him. When but a few feet away it suddenlychecked and, swiftly writhing its body into a coil from which its headand about five feet of its length rose straight up and waved menacinglyin the air, it gathered impetus to strike.
A deadly feeling of nausea and powerlessness possessed Dermot, as from theopen mouth, in which the fatal fangs showed plainly while the protrudingforked tongue darting in and out seemed to feel for him, came a fetideffluvia that had a paralysing effect on him. He was experiencing theextraordinary fascination that a snake exercises over its victims. Hismuscles seemed benumbed, as the huge head swayed from side to side andmesmerised him with its uncanny power. The gun almost dropped from hisnerveless fingers. But with a fierce effort he regained the mastery ofhimself, brought the butt to his shoulder, and pressed both triggers.
At that short range the shot blew the snake's head off, and Dermot sprangback as the heavy body fell forward and lashed and heaved with convulsivewrithing of the muscles, while the tail beat the ground heavily.
At the report of the gun Badshah stopped in his hurried retreat and turned.Then, still showing evidences of his alarm, he approached Dermot slowly.
"It's all right, old boy," said the Major to him. "The brute is done for."
The elephant understood and came to him. Dermot patted the quivering trunkoutstretched to smell the dead snake and then went forward and grasped thehamadryad's tail with both hands, striving to hold it still. But it draggedhim from side to side and the writhing coils of the headless body nearlyenfolded him, so he let go and stepped back. As well as he could judge theking-cobra was more than seventeen feet long.
It took some time to reassure Badshah, for the elephant was badlyfrightened and, when Dermot mounted him, set off from the spot with a hasteunlike his usual deliberate pace.
* * * * *
For a week after this occurrence the Major was busy in his bungalow inRanga Duar drawing up reports for the Adjutant General and amplifyingexisting maps of the borderland, as well as completing his large-scalesketches of the passes. When his task was finished he filled his haversackwith provisions one morning and, shouldering his rifle, descended thewinding mountain road to the _peelkhana_. Long before this was visiblethrough the trees of the foothills he was apprised by the trumpeting of theelephants and the loud shouts of men that there was trouble there. When hecame out on the cleared stretch of ground in front of the stables he saw_mahouts_ and coolies fleeing in terror in all directions, while thestoutly built _peelkhana_ itself rocked violently as though shaken by anearthquake.
Then forth from it, to the accompaniment of terrified squealing andtrumpeting from the female elephants, Badshah stalked, ears cocked and tailup and the light of battle in his eyes, broken iron shackles dangling fromhis legs.
"_Dewand hoyga_ (he has gone mad)," cried the attendants, fleeing past theMajor in such alarm that they almost failed to notice him. Last of all cameRamnath, who, recognising him, halted and salaamed.
"_Khubbadar_ (take care), sahib!" he cried in warning. "The fit is on himagain. The jungle calls him. He is mad."
Dermot paid no attention to him but hastened on to intercept the elephantwhich stalked on with ears thrust forward and tail raised, ready to givebattle to any one that dared stop him.
The Major whistled. Badshah checked in his stride, then as a well-knownvoice fell on his ear he faltered and looked about him. Dermot spoke hisname and the elephant turned and went straight to him, to the amazement ofthe _peelkhana_ attendants watching from behind trees on the hillside. Yetthey feared lest his intention was to attack the sahib, for when a tametusker is seized with a fit of madness, it often kills even its _mahout_,to whom ordinarily it is much attached.
Dermot raised his hand. Badshah stopped and sank on his knees, while hismaster cast off the broken shackles and swung himself astride of his neck.Then the elephant rose again and of his own volition rolled swiftly forwardinto the jungle which closed around them and hid animal and man from theastounded watchers.
One by one the _mahouts_ and coolies stole from the shelter of the treesand gathered together.
"_Wah! Wah!_ the sahib has gone mad, too," exclaimed an old Mohammedan.
"He will never return alive," said another, shaking his head sorrowfully."_Afsos hun_ (I am sorry), for he was a good sahib. The _shaitan_ (devil)has borne him away to _Eblis_ (hell)."
Here Ramnath broke in indignantly:
"My elephant is no _shaitan_. He is _Gunesh_, the god _Gunesh_ himself. Hewill let no harm come to the sahib, who is safe under his protection."
The other Hindus among the elephant attendants nodded agreement.
"_Such bath_ (true words)," they said. "Who knows what the gods purpose?Which of you has ever before seen any man stop a _dhantwallah_ (tusker)when the madness was upon him? Which of ye has known a white man to have apower that even we have not, we whose fathers, whose forefathers forgenerations, have tended elephants?"
"Ye speak true talk," said the first speaker. "The Prophet tells us thereare no gods. But _afrits_ there are, _djinns_--beings more than man. Whatknow we of those with whom the sahib communes when he and Badshah go forthalone into the forest?"
"The sahib is not as other sahibs," broke in an old coolie. "I was with himbefore--in Buxa Duar. There is naught in the jungle that can puzzle him. Heknows its ways, the speech of the men in it--ay, and of its animals, too.He was a great _shikari_ (hunter) in those old days. Many beasts havefallen to his gun. Yet now he goes forth for days and brings back no heads.What does he?"
"For days, say you, Chotu?" queried another _mahout_. "Ay, for more thandays. For nights. What man among us, what man even of these wild men aroundus, would willingly pass a night in the forest?"
"True talk," agreed the old Mohammedan. "Which of us would care to lie downalone beside his elephant in the jungle all night? Yet the sahib sleepsthere--if he does sleep--without fear. And no harm comes to him."
Ramnath slowly shook his head.
"The sahib does not sleep. Nor is there aught in the forest that can do himharm. Or my elephant either. The _budmash_ tried to kill the sahib, andBadshah protected him. When the big snake attacked Badshah, the sahib savedhim.
"But what do they in the forest?" asked Chotu again. "Tell me that,Ramnath-_ji_."
Once more Ramnath shook his head.
"What know we? We are black men. What knowledge have we of what the sahibsdo, of what they can do? They go under the sea in ships, beneath the landin carriages. So say the sepoys who have been to _Vilayet_ (Europe). Theyfly in the air like birds. That have I seen with my own eyes at Delhi----"
"And I at Lahore," broke in the old Mohammedan.
"And I at Nucklao (Lucknow)," said a third.
"But never yet was there a man, black man or sahib, who could hold a_dhantwallah_ when the mad fit was on him, as our sahib has done,"continued Ramnath. "He is under the protection of the gods."
Even the Mohammedans among his audience nodded assent. Their _mullah_taught them that the gods of the Hindu were devils. But who knew? Mecca wasfar away, and the jungle with its demons was very near them. Among thevarious creeds in India there is a wide tolerance and a readiness tobelieve that there may be something of truth in all the faiths that menprofess. A Hindu will hang a wreath of marigolds on the tomb of aMohammedan _pir_--a Mussulman saint--and recite a _mantra_, if he knowsone, before it as readily as he will before the shrine of Siva.
While the superstitious elephant attendants talked, Badshah was moving at afast shambling pace along animal paths through the forest farther andfarther away from the _peelkhana_. Wild beasts always follow a trackthrough the jungle, even a man-made road, in preference to forcing a waythrough the undergrowth for themselves. As he was borne swiftly along, hisrider felt that, although the elephant had allowed him to mount to hisaccustomed place, it would resent any attempts at restraint or guidance.But indeed Dermot had no wish to control it. He was filled with an immensedesire to learn the mystery of Badshah's frequent disappearances. The Majorwas convinced that the animal had a definite objective in view, sopurposeful was his manner. For he went rapidly on, never pausing to feed,unlike the usual habit of elephants which, when they can, eat all theirwaking time. But Badshah held straight on rapidly without stopping. He wasproceeding in a direction that took him at an angle away from the line ofthe Himalayas, and the character of the forest altered as he went.
Near the foot of the hills the graceful plumes of the bamboo and the broaddrooping leaves of the plantain, the wild banana, were interspersed withthe vivid green leaves and fruit of the limes. Then came the big trees,from which the myriad creepers hung in graceful festoons. Here theundergrowth was scanty and the ground covered with tall bracken in the openglades, which gave the jungle the appearance of an English wood.
Farther on the trees were closer together and the track led through denseundergrowth. Then through a border of high elephant-grass with featherytops it emerged on to a broad, dry river-bed of white sand strewn withrounded boulders rolled down from the hills. The sudden change from thepleasant green gloom of the forest to the harsh glare of the brilliantsunshine was startling. As they crossed the open Dermot looked up at thegiant rampart of the mountains and saw against the dark background of theirsteep slopes the grey wall of Fort and bungalows in the little outpost ofRanga Duar high above the forest.
Then the jungle closed round them again, as Badshah plunged into the highgrass bordering the far side of the river-bed, its feathery plumes sixteenfeet from the ground. On through low thorny trees and scrub to the hugebulks and thick, leafy canopy of the giant _simal_ and teak once more. Thefurther they went from the hills the denser, more tropical became theundergrowth. The soil was damper and supported a richer, more luxuriantvegetation. Cane brakes through which even elephants and bison woul
d findit hard to push a way, tree ferns of every kind, feathery bushes set thickwith cruel hooked thorns, mingled with the great trees, between which thecreepers rioted in wilder confusion than ever.
The heat was intense. The air grew moist and steamy, and the sweat trickleddown Dermot's face. The earth underfoot was sodden and slushy. Littlestreams began to trickle, for the water from the mountains ten miles awaythat sinks into the soil at the foot of the hills and flows to the southunderground, here rises to the surface and gives the whole forest itsname--Terai, that is, "wet."
Slimy pools lurked in the undergrowth. In one the ugly snout of a smallcrocodile protruded from the muddy, noisome water, and the cold, unwinkingeyes stared at elephant and man as they passed. The rank abundant foliageoverhung the track and brushed or broke against Badshah's sides, as heshouldered his way through it.
Suddenly, without warning, Badshah came out on a stretch of forest clear ofundergrowth between the great tree-trunks, and to his amazement Dermot sawthat it was filled with wild elephants. Everywhere, as far as the eye couldrange between the trees, they were massed, not in tens or scores, but inhundreds. On every side were vistas of multitudes of great heads withgleaming white tusks and restless-moving trunks, of huge bodies supportedon ponderous legs. And with an unwonted fear clutching at his heart Dermotrealised that all their eyes were turned in his direction.
Did they see him? Were they aware that Badshah carried a man? Dermot knewthat beasts do not quickly realise a man's presence on the neck or back ofa tame elephant. He had seen in a _kheddah_, when the _mahouts_ and noosershad gone on their trained elephants in among the host of terrified or angrycaptured wild ones, that the latter seemed not to observe the humans.
So he hoped now that if he succeeded in turning his animal round andgetting him away quickly, his presence would remain unnoticed. Grasping hisrifle ready to fire if necessary, he tried with foot and hand to swingBadshah about. But his elephant absolutely ignored his efforts and for thefirst time in their acquaintance disobeyed him. Slowing down to a statelyand deliberate pace the _Gunesh_ advanced to meet the others.
Then, to Dermot's amazement, from the vast herd that now encompassed themon every side came the low purring that in an elephant denotes pleasure.Almost inaudible from one throat, it sounded from these many hundreds likethe rumble of distant thunder. And in answer to it there came fromBadshah's trunk a low sound, indicative of his pleasure. Then it dawned onDermot that it was to meet this vast gathering of his kind that the animalhad broken loose from captivity.
And the multitude of huge beasts was waiting for him. All the swayingtrunks were lifted together and pointed towards him to sense him, with aunanimity of motion that made it seem as if they were receiving him with asalute. And, as Badshah moved on into the centre of the vast herd andstopped, again the murmured welcome rumbled from the great throats.
Dermot slung his rifle on his back. It would not be needed now. He resignedhimself to anything that might happen and was filled with an immensecuriosity. Was there really some truth in the stories about Badshah, somefoundation for the natives' belief in his mysterious powers? This receptionof him by the immense gathering of his kind was beyond credence Dermot knewthat wild elephants do not welcome a strange male into a herd. He has tofight, and fight hard, for admission, which he can only gain by defeatingthe bull that is its leader and tyrant. But that several herds should cometogether--for that there were several was evident, since the greateststrength of a herd rarely exceeds a hundred individuals--to meet an escapeddomesticated elephant, and apparently by appointment, was too fantastic tobe credited by any one acquainted with the habits of these animals. Yethere it was happening before his eyes. The soldier gave up attempting tounderstand it and simply accepted the fact.
He looked around him. There were elephants of every type, of all ages. Somewere very old, as he could tell from their lean, fleshless skulls, theirsunken temples and hollow eyes, emaciated bodies and straight, thin legs.And the clearest proof of their age was their ears, which lapped over verymuch at the top and were torn and ragged at the lower edges.
There were bull-elephants in the prime of life, from twenty-five tothirty-five years old, with great heads, short, thick legs bowed outwith masses of muscle, and bodies with straight backs sloping to thelong, well-feathered tails. Most of them were tuskers--and the sightof one magnificent bull near Dermot made the sportsman's trigger-fingeritch, so splendid were its tusks--shapely, spreading outward and upwardin a graceful sweep, and each nearly six feet in length along theoutside curve.
There was a large proportion of females and calves in the assemblage. Theyoungest ones were about four or five months old. A few had not shed theirfirst woolly coat; and many of the male babies could not boast of even thetiniest tusks.
Badshah was now completely surrounded, for the elephants had closed in onhim from every side. He raised his trunk. At once the nearest animalsextended theirs towards him. These he touched, and they in their turntouched those of their neighbours beyond his reach. They did the same toothers farther away, and so the action was repeated and carried onthroughout the herd by all except the youngest calves.
Dermot was wondering whether this meant a greeting or a command fromBadshah, when there was a sudden stir among the animals, and soon the wholemass was in motion. Then he saw that the elephants were moving into singlefile, the formation in which they always march. Badshah alone remainedwhere he was.
Then the enormous gathering broke up and began to move. The oldestelephants led; and the line commenced to defile by Badshah, who stood as ifpassing them in review. As the first approached it lifted its trunk, and toDermot's astonishment gently touched him on the leg with it. Then it passedon and the next animal took its place and in its turn touched the man. Thesucceeding ones did the same; and thus all the elephants defiled by theirdomesticated companion and touched or smelt Dermot as they went by.
Throughout the whole proceeding Badshah remained motionless, and his riderbegan to believe that he had ordered his wild kindred to make themselvesacquainted with his human friend. It seemed a ridiculous idea, but thewhole proceeding was so wildly improbable that the soldier felt thatnothing could surprise him further.
As the elephants passed him he noticed on the legs of a few of them markswhich were evidently old scars of chain or rope-galls. And the forehead ofone or two showed traces of having been daubed with tar, while on the trunkof one very large tusker was an almost obliterated ornamental design inwhite paint, and his tusks were tipped with brass. So it was apparent thatBadshah was not the only animal present that had escaped from captivity.The big tusker had probably belonged to the _peelkhana_ of some rajah,judging by the pattern of the painted design.
Slowly the seemingly endless line of great animals went by. Hours elapsedbefore the last elephant had passed; and Dermot, cramped by sitting stillon Badshah's neck, was worn out with heat and fatigue long before the slowprocession ended.
When at last the almost interminable line had gone by, Badshah moved off ata rapid pace and passed the slow-plodding animals until he had overtakenthe leaders. Dermot found that the herd was heading for the mountains andthe oldest beasts were still in front. This surprised him, as it wasaltogether contrary to the custom of wild elephants. For usually on a marchthe cows with calves lead the way. This is logical and reasonable; becauseif an unencumbered tusker headed the line and set the pace, he would go toofast and too far for the little legs of the babies in the rear. They wouldfall behind; and, as their mothers would stay with them, the herd wouldsoon be broken up.
But as Badshah reached the head of the file and, taking the lead, set avery slow pace, Dermot quickly understood why the old elephants wereallowed to remain in front. For all of them were exceedingly feeble, andsome seemed at death's door from age and disease. He would not have beensurprised at any of them falling down at any moment and expiring on thespot.
Then he remembered the curious but well-known fact that no man, white orcoloured, has ever yet found t
he body of a wild elephant that had died inthe jungle from natural causes. Though few corners of Indian or Ceylonforests remain unexplored, no carcases or skeletons of these animals haveever been discovered. And yet, although in a wild state they reach the ageof a hundred and fifty years, elephants must die at last.
Dermot was meditating on this curious fact of natural history when Badshahcame out on the high bank of an empty river-bed and cautiously climbed downit. Ahead of them rose the long line of mountains clear and distinct in therays of the setting sun. As he reached the far bank Dermot turned round tolook back. Behind them stretched the procession of elephants in singlefile, each one stepping into the huge footprints of those in front of it.When Badshah plunged into the jungle again the tail of the procession hadnot yet come out on the white sand of the river-bed.
And when the sun went down they were still plodding on towards the hills.
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