The Elephant God

by Gordon Casserly

  CHAPTER V

  THE DEATH-PLACE

  An hour or two after night had fallen on the jungle Badshah stoppedsuddenly and sank down on his knees. Dermot took this as an invitation todismount, and slid to the ground. When Badshah stopped, the long-stretchingline behind him halted, too, and the elephants broke their formation andwandered about feeding. Soon the forest resounded with the noise ofcreepers being torn down, branches broken off, and small trees uprooted sothat the hungry animals could reach the leafy crowns. Dermot realised thatin the darkness he was in danger of being trodden underfoot among thehundreds of huge animals straying about. But Badshah knew it, too, and sohe remained standing over his man, while the latter sat down on the ground,rested his aching back against a tree, and made a meal from the contents ofhis haversack. Badshah contented himself with the grass and leaves that hecould reach without stirring from the spot, and then cautiously loweredhimself to the ground and stretched his huge limbs out.

  Dermot lay down beside him, as he had so often done before in the nightsspent in the jungle. But, exhausted as he was, he could not sleep at first.The strangeness of the adventure kept him awake. To find his presenceaccepted by this vast gathering of wild elephants, animals which areusually extremely shy of human beings, was in itself extraordinary. Much ashe knew of the jungle he had never dreamt of this. In Central Indianvillages he had been told legends of lost children being adopted by wolves.But for elephants to admit a man into their herd was beyond belief. That itwas due to Badshah's affection for him was little less remarkable than thefact itself. For it opened up the question of the animal's extraordinarypower over his kind. And that was an unfathomable mystery.

  Dermot found the riddle too difficult to solve. He ceased to puzzle overit. The noises in the forest gradually died down, and the intense silencethat followed was broken only by the harsh call of the barking-deer or thewailing cry of the giant owl. Fatigue overcame him, and he slept.

  It seemed to him that he had scarcely lost consciousness when he wasawakened by a touch on his face. It was still dark; but, when he sprang uphastily, he could vaguely make out Badshah standing beside him. Theelephant touched him with his trunk and then sank down on his knees. Theinvitation to mount was unmistakable; and Dermot slung his rifle on hisback and climbed on to the elephant's neck. Badshah rose up and moved off,and apparently the other elephants followed him, for the noises that hadfilled the forest and showed them to be awake and feeding, ceased abruptly.Dermot could just faintly distinguish the soft footfall of the animalimmediately behind him.

  When Badshah reached the lowest hills and left the heavy forest behind thesky became visible, filled with the clear and vivid tropic starlight. Ananimal track led up between giant clumps of bamboos, by long-leavedplantain trees and through thick undergrowth of high, tangled bushes thatclothed the foothills. Up this path, as a paling in the east betokened thedawn, the long line of elephants climbed in the same order of march as onthe previous day. Badshah led; and behind him followed the oldestelephants, on which the steep ascent told heavily.

  Two thousand feet above the forest the track led close to a Bhuttiavillage. As the rising sun streaked the sky with rose, the head of the longline neared the scattered bamboo huts perched on piles on the steep slopes.The track was not visible from the village, but a party of wood-cuttersfrom the hamlet had just reached it on their way to descend to their day'swork in the jungle below. They saw the winding file of ascending elephantssome distance beneath them and in great alarm climbed up a big rubber treegrowing close to the path. Hidden among its broad and glossy green leavesthey watched the approaching elephants.

  From their elevated perch they had a good view of the serpentining line.To their amazement they saw that a white man sat astride the neck of thefirst animal and was apparently conducting the enormous herd. One of thewood-cutters recognised Dermot, who had once visited this very villageand interrogated this man among others. Petrified with fright, theBhuttia and his companions watched the long line go by, and for fully anhour after the last elephant had disappeared they did not venture todescend from the tree.

  When at last they did so there was no longer any thought of work. Instead,they fled hotfoot to the village to spread their strange news; and nextday, when they went to their work below and explained to the enraged Gurkhaoverseer the reason of their absence on the previous day, they told him thefull tale. No story is too incredible for the average native of India, andthe overseer and various forest guards who also heard the narrative fullybelieved it and spread it through the jungle villages. It grew as it passedfrom tongue to tongue, until the story finally rivalled the most marvellousof the exploits of Krishna, that wonderful Hindu god.

  Meanwhile Dermot and his mammoth companions were climbing steadily higherand ever higher into the mountains. A panther, disturbed by them in hissleep beside the bones of a goat, rose growling from the ground and slunksullenly away. A pair of brilliantly-plumaged hornbills flew overhead witha loud and measured beat of wings. _Kalej_ pheasants scuttled away amongthe bushes.

  But soon the jungle diminished to low scrub and finally fell away behindthe ascending elephants, and they entered a region of rugged, barrenmountains cloven by giant chasms and seamed by rocky _nullahs_ down whichbrawling streams rushed or tumbled over falls. A herd of _gooral_--thelittle wild goat--rushed away before their coming and sprang in dizzy leapsdown almost sheer precipices.

  As the mountains closed in upon him in a narrow passage between beetlingcliffs thousands of feet high, Dermot's interest quickened. For he knewthat he was nearing the border-line between India and Bhutan; and this wasapparently a pass from one country into the other, unknown and unmarked inthe existing maps, one of which he carried in his haversack. He took it outand examined it. There was no doubt of it; he had made a fresh discovery.

  He turned round on Badshah's neck and looked down on all India spread outbeneath him. East and west along the foot of the mountains the sea offoliage of the Terai swept away out of sight. Here and there lighterpatches of colour showed where tea-gardens dotted the darker forest. Thirtyodd miles to the south of the foothills the jungle ended abruptly, andbeyond its ragged fringe lay the flat and fertile fields of Eastern Bengal.A dark spot seen indistinctly through the hot-weather haze marked where thelittle city of Cooch Behar lay. Sixty miles and more away to the south-eastthe Garo Hills rose beyond the snaky line of the Brahmaputra Riverwandering through the plains of Assam.

  A sharp turn in the narrow defile shut out the view of everything exceptthe sheer walls of rock that seemed almost to meet high overhead and hidethe sky. Even at noon the pass was dark and gloomy. But it came abruptly toan end, and as through a gateway the leading elephants emerged suddenly ona narrow jungle-like valley. The first line of mountains guarding Bhutanhad been traversed. Beyond the valley lay another range, its southern facecovered with trees.

  Badshah halted, and the elephants behind him scattered as they came out ofthe defile. The aged animals among them, as soon as they had drunk from alittle river running midway between the mountain chains and fed by streamsfrom both, lay down to rest, too exhausted to eat. But the others spreadout in the trees to graze.

  Dermot, who had begun to fear that the supply of food in his haversackmight run short, found a plantain tree and gathered a quantity of thefruit. After a frugal meal he wrote up his notes on the pass through whichhe had just come and made rough military sketches of it. Then he strolledamong the elephants grazing near Badshah. They showed no fear or hostilityas he passed, and some of the calves evinced a certain amount of curiosityin him. He even succeeded in making friends with one little animal about ayear old, marked with whitish blotches on its forehead and trunk, whichallowed him to touch it and, after due consideration, accepted the gift ofa peeled banana. Its mother stood by during the proceeding and regarded thefraternising with her calf dubiously.

  Not until dawn on the following day did the herd resume its onwardmovement. Dermot was awake even before Badshah's trunk touched his fac
e toarouse him, and as soon as he was mounted the march began again. The routelay through the new mountain range; and all day, except for a couple ofhours' halt at noon, the long line wound up a confusing jumble of ravinesand passes. When night fell a plateau covered with tall deodar trees hadbeen reached, and here the elephants rested.

  Daybreak on the third morning found Badshah leading the line through astill more bewildering maze of narrow defiles and a forest with such densefoliage that, when the sun was high in the heavens, its rays scarcelylightened the gloom between the tree-trunks. Dermot wondered how Badshahfound his way, for there was no sign of a track, but the elephant moved onsteadily and with an air of assured purpose.

  At one place he plunged into a deep narrow ravine filled with tangledundergrowth that constantly threatened to tear Dermot from his seat.Indeed, only the continual employment of the latter's _kukri_, with whichhe hacked at the throttling creepers and clutching thorny branches, savedhim.

  Darker and gloomier grew the way. The sides of the _nullah_ closed in untilthere was scarcely room for the animals to pass, and then Dermot foundBadshah had entered a natural tunnel in the mountain side. The interior wasas black as midnight, and the soldier had to lie flat on the elephant'sskull to save his own head.

  Suddenly a blinding light made him close his eyes, as Badshah burst out ofthe darkness of the tunnel into the dazzling glare of the sunshine.

  When his rider looked again he found that they were in an almost circularvalley completely ringed in by precipitous walls of rock rising straightand sheer for a couple of thousand feet. Above these cliffs towered giantmountain peaks covered with snow and ice.

  At the end of the valley farthest from them was a small lake. Near themouth of the tunnel the earth was clothed with long grass and floweringbushes and dotted with low trees. But elsewhere the ground was dazzlinglywhite, as though the snow lay deep upon it. Badshah halted among the trees,and the old elephants passed him and went on in the direction of the lake.Dermot noticed that they seemed to have suddenly grown feebler and moredecrepit.

  He looked down at the white ground. To his surprise he found that from hereto the lake the valley was floored with huge skulls, skeletons, scatteredbones, and tusks. It was the elephants' Golgotha. He had penetrated to aspot which perhaps no other human being had ever seen--the death-place ofthe mammoths, the mysterious retreat to which the elephants of the Teraicame to die.

  He looked instinctively towards the aged animals, which alone hadgone forward among the bones. And, as he gazed, one of them stumbled,recovered its footing, staggered on a few paces, then stopped and slowlysank to the ground. It laid its head down and stretched out its limbs.Tremors shook the huge body; then it lay still as though asleep.A second old elephant, and a third, stood for a moment, then slowlysubsided. Another and another did the same; until finally all of themlay stretched out motionless--lifeless, dark spots on the white floorthat was composed of bones of countless generations of their kind.

  There was a strange impressiveness about the solemn passing of these greatbeasts. It affected the human spectator almost painfully. The hush of thisfatal valley, the long line of elephants watching the death of theirkindred, the pathos of the end of the stately animals which in obedience tosome mysterious impulse, had struggled through many difficulties only tolie down here silently, uncomplainingly, and give up their lives, allstirred Dermot strangely. And when the thought of the incalculable wealththat lay in the vast quantity of ivory stored in this great charnel-houseflashed through his mind, he felt that it would be a shameful desecration,inviting the wrath of the gods, to remove even one tusk of it.

  He was not left long to gaze and wonder at the weird scene. To his reliefBadshah suddenly turned and passed through the trees again towards thetunnelled entrance, and the hundreds of other elephants followed him infile. In a few minutes Dermot found himself plunged into darkness oncemore, and the Valley of Death had disappeared.

  When they had passed through the tunnel, the elephants slipped and stumbleddown the rock-encumbered ravines, for elephants are far less sure-footed indescent than when ascending. But they travelled at a much faster pace,being no longer hampered by the presence of the old and decrepit beasts. Itseemed to take only a comparatively short time to reach the valley betweenthe two mountain ranges. And here they stopped to feed and rest.

  When morning came, Dermot found that the big assembly of elephants wasbreaking up into separate herds of which it was composed. The greaternumber of these moved off to the east and north, evidently purposing toremain for a time in Bhutan, where the young grass was springing up in thevalleys as the lower snows melted. Only three herds intended to return toIndia with Badshah, of which the largest, consisting of about a hundredmembers, seemed to be the one to which he particularly belonged.

  During the descent from the mountains into the Terai, Dermot wondered whatwould happen with Badshah when they reached the forest. Would the elephantpersist in remaining with the herd or would it return with him to the_peelkhana_?

  Night had fallen before they had got clear of the foothills, so thatwhen they arrived in the jungle once more they halted to rest not farfrom the mountains. When Dermot awoke next morning he found that he andBadshah were alone, all the others having disappeared, and the animalwas standing patiently awaiting orders. He seemed to recognise that hisbrief hour of authority had passed, and had become once more his usualdocile and well-disciplined self. At the word of command he sank tohis knees to allow his master to mount; and then, at the touch of hisrider's foot, turned his head towards home and started off obediently.

  As they approached the _peelkhana_ a cry was raised, and the elephantattendants rushed from their huts to stare in awe-struck silence at animaland man. Ramnath approached with marked reverence, salaaming deeply atevery step.

  When Dermot dismounted it was hard for him to bid farewell to Badshah. Hefelt, too, that he could no longer make the elephant submit to the ignominyof fetters. So he bade Ramnath not shackle nor bind him again. Then hepatted the huge beast affectionately and pointed to the empty stall in the_peelkhana_; and Badshah, seeming to understand and appreciate his beingleft unfettered, touched his white friend caressingly with his trunk andwalked obediently to his brick standing in the stable. The watching_mahouts_ and coolies nodded and whispered to each other at this, butRamnath appeared to regard the relations between his elephant and the sahibas perfectly natural.

  Dermot shouldered his rifle and started off on the long and weary climb toRanga Duar. When he reached the parade ground he found the men of thedetachment falling out after their morning drill. His subaltern, Parker,who was talking to the Indian officers of the Double Company, saw him andcame to meet him.

  "Hullo, Major; I'm glad to see you back again," he said, saluting. "Ihardly expected to, after the extraordinary stories I've heard from the_mahouts_."

  "Really? What were they?" asked his senior officer, leading the way to hisbungalow.

  "Well, the simplest was that Badshah had gone mad and bolted with you intothe jungle," replied the subaltern. "Another tale was that he knelt downand worshipped you, and then asked you to go off with him on somemysterious mission."

  Dermot had resolved to say as little as possible about his experiences.Europeans would not credit his story, and he had no desire to be regardedas a phenomenal liar. Natives would believe it, for nothing is toomarvellous for them; but he had no wish that any one should know of theexistence of the Death Place, lest ivory-hunters should seek to penetrateto it.

  "Nonsense. Badshah wasn't mad," he replied. "It was just as I guessed whenyou first told me of these fits of his--merely the jungle calling him."

  "Yes, sir. But the weirdest tale of all was that you were seen leading anarmy of elephants, just like a Hindu god, to invade Bhutan."

  "Where did you hear that?" asked Dermot in surprise.

  "Oh, the yarn came from the _mahouts_, who heard it from some of the forestguards, who said they'd been told it by Bhuttias from the hills. You knowh
ow natives spread stories. Wasn't it a silly tale?" And Parker laughed atthe thought of it.

  "Yes, rather absurd," agreed the Major, forcing a smile. "Yes, natives arereally--Hello! who's done this?"

  They had reached the garden of his bungalow. The little wooden gate-postsat the entrance were smeared with red paint and hung with withered wreathsof marigolds.

  When a Hindu gets the idea into his head that a certain stone or tree orplace is the abode of a god or godling or is otherwise holy, his firstimpulse is to procure marigolds and red paint and make a votive offering ofthem by making wreaths of the one and daubing everything in the vicinitywith the other.

  "By Jove, Major, I expect that some of the Hindus in the bazaar have heardthese yarns about you and mean to do _poojah_ (worship) to you," saidParker with a laugh. "I told you they regard Badshah as a very holy animal.I suppose some of his sacredness has overflowed on to you."

  Dermot realised that there was probably some truth in the suggestion. Hewas annoyed, as he had no desire to be looked on by the natives as thepossessor of supernatural powers.

  "I must see that my boy has the posts cleaned," he said. "When you get tothe Mess, Parker, please tell them I'll be up to breakfast as soon as I'vehad a tub and a shave."

  Two hours later Dermot showed Parker the position of the defile on the mapand explained his notes and sketches of it; for it was important that hissubordinate should know of it in the event of any mishap occurring tohimself. But before he acquainted Army Headquarters in India with hisdiscovery, he went to the pass again on Badshah to examine and survey itthoroughly. When this was done and he had despatched his sketches andreport to Simla, he felt free to carry out a project that interested him.This was to seek out the herd of wild elephants with which Badshah seemedmost closely associated and try to discover the secret of his connectionwith them.

  Somewhat to his surprise he experienced no difficulty in finding them; as,when he set out from the _peelkhana_ in search of them, Badshah seemed toknow what he wanted and carried him straight to them. For each day theanimal appeared to understand his man's inmost thoughts more and more, andto need no visible expression of them.

  When they reached the herd, the elephants received Badshah without anydemonstration of greeting, unlike the previous occasion. They showed noobjection to Dermot's presence among them. The little animal with theblotched trunk recognised him at once and came to him, and the other calvessoon followed its example and made friends with him. The big elephantsbetrayed no fear, and allowed him to stroll on foot among them freely.

  This excursion was merely the first of many that Dermot made with the herd,with which he often roamed far and wide through the forest. And sometimes,without his knowing it, he was seen by some native passing through thejungle, who hurriedly climbed a tree or hid in the undergrowth to avoidmeeting the elephants. From concealment the awed watcher gazed inastonishment at the white man in their midst, of whom such wonderful taleswere told in the villages. And when he got back safely to his own hamletthat night the native added freely to the legends that were gatheringaround Dermot's name among the jungle and hill-dwellers.

  On one occasion Dermot, seated on Badshah's neck, was following in rear ofthe herd when it was moving slowly through the forest a few miles from thefoot of the hills. A sudden halt in the leisurely progress made him wonderat the cause. Then the elephants in front broke their formation and crowdedforward in a body, and Dermot suddenly heard a human cry. Fearing that theyhad come unexpectantly on a native and might do him harm, he urged Badshahforward through the press of animals, which parted left and right to lethim through. To his surprise he found the leading elephants ringed round agirl, an English girl, who, hatless and with her unpinned hair streaming onher shoulders, stood terrified in their midst.