The Elephant God

by Gordon Casserly

  CHAPTER XVII

  A TRAP

  In the forenoon of the fifth day of the Durga-Puja Festival the _Dewan_ andChunerbutty sat on the thick carpet of the Rajah's apartment, which was inthat part of the Palace facing the wing given up to the visitors. It formedone of the sides of the square surrounding the paved courtyard below, whichwas rarely entered. Only one door led into it from the buildings whichlined it on three sides, a door under the Rajah's suite of apartments.

  That potentate was sprawling on a pile of soft cushions, glaringmalevolently at his Chief Minister, whom he hated and feared.

  "Curses on thee, _Dewan-ji_!" he muttered, turning uneasily and groaningwith the pain of movement. For he was badly bruised, sore, and shaken, fromhis treatment by the crowd on the previous day.

  "Why on me, O Maharaj?" asked the _Dewan_, looking at him steadily and withhardly-veiled contempt.

  "Because thine was the idea of this foolish celebration yesterday. MotherDurga was angry with me for introducing this foreign way of worship,"answered the superstitious atheist, conveniently forgetting that the ideawas his own. "It will cost me large sums to these greedy priests, if she isnot to punish me further."

  "Not for that reason, but for another, is the Holy Mother enraged, OMaharaj," replied his Minister. "For the lack of a sweeter sacrifice thanwe offered her yesterday."

  "What is that?" demanded the Rajah suspiciously. He distrusted his _Dewan_more than any one else in his service.

  "Canst thou ask? Thou who bearest on thy forehead the badge of the Saktas?"

  "Thou meanest a human sacrifice?"

  "I do."

  "I have given Durga many," grumbled the Rajah. "But if she be greedy, lether have more. There are girls in my _zenana_ that I would gladly be ridof."

  "The Holy Mother demands a worthier offering than some wanton that thouhast wearied of."

  Chunerbutty spoke for the first time.

  "She wants the blood of one of the accursed race; of a _Feringhi_; of thissoldier and spy."

  The Rajah shifted uneasily on his cushions. He hated but he feared thewhite men, and he had not implicit faith in the _Dewan's_ talk of theirspeedy overthrow.

  "Mother Durga has rejected him," he said. "Have ye not all tried to slayhim and failed?"

  The _Dewan_ nodded his head slowly and stared at the carpet.

  "There is some strange and evil influence that sets my plans at naught."

  "The gods, if there be gods as you Brahmins say, protect him. I think evilwill come to us if we harm him. And can we? Did he not lie down with thehooded death itself, a cobra, young, active, full of venom, and riseunhurt?"

  "True. But perhaps the snake had escaped from the bed before the_Feringhi_ entered it," said the _Dewan_ meditatively.

  "To guard against that, did they not fasten the _karait_ in his shoe?"

  "He may have discovered it in time," said the engineer. "Englishmen fearsnakes greatly and always look out for them."

  "Ha! and did he not eat and drink the poisoned meal prepared for him by ourskilfullest physician?"

  There was no answer to this. The mystery of Dermot's escape from death wasbeyond their understanding.

  "There is certainly something strange about him," said Chunerbutty. "Atleast, so it is reported in our district, though to me he seems a fool. Butthere all races and castes fear him. Curious tales are told of him. Somesay that _Gunesh_, the Elephant-headed One, protects him. Others hold thathe is _Gunesh_ himself. Can it be so?"

  The _Dewan_ smiled.

  "Since when hast thou believed in the gods again?" he asked.

  "Well, it is hard to know what is true or false. If there be no gods,perhaps there are devils. My Christian friends are more impressed by thelatter."

  The Rajah shook his head doubtfully.

  "Perhaps he is a devil. Who knows? They told me that he summoned a host ofdevils in the form of elephants to slay my soldiers. Pah! it is allnonsense. There are no such things."

  With startling distinctness the shrill trumpeting of an elephant rangthrough the room.

  "Mother Kali preserve me!" shrieked the superstitious Rajah, flinginghimself in terror on his face. "That was no mortal elephant. Was it_Gunesh_ that spoke?" He lifted his head timidly. "It is a warning. Sparethe _Feringhi_. Let him go."

  "Spare him? Knowest thou, O Maharaj, that the girl thou dost desire loveshim? But an hour ago I heard her tell him that she wished to speak with himalone," said Chunerbutty.

  "Alone with him? The shameless one! Curses on him! Let him die," cried thejealous Rajah, his fright forgotten.

  The _Dewan_ smiled.

  "There was no need to fear the cry of that elephant," he said. "It was yourfavourite, Shiva-_ji_. He is seized with the male-madness. They have pennedhim in the stone-walled enclosure yonder. He killed his _mahout_ thismorning."

  "Killed Ebrahim? Curse him! If he had not cost me twenty thousand rupees Iwould have him shot," growled the Rajah savagely. "Killed Ebrahim, my best_mahout_? Why could he not have slain this accursed _Feringhi_ if he hadthe blood-lust on him?"

  "In the name of Siva the Great One!" exclaimed the _Dewan_ piously. "It isa good thought. Listen to me, Maharaj! Listen, thou renegade" (this toChunerbutty, who dared not resent the old man's insults).

  The three heads came together.

  * * * * *

  After lunch that day Dermot sat smoking in his room. Although it had nopunkah and the heat was great, he had escaped to it from the crowded loungeto be able to think quietly. But his thoughts were not of the attempts onhis life and the probability that they would be repeated. His mind wasfilled with Noreen to the temporary exclusion of all other subjects. Shepuzzled him. He had supposed her engaged, or practically engaged, toCharlesworth. Yet she had come away from Darjeeling at its gayest time andhere seemed to be engrossed with Chunerbutty. She was always with him or hewith her. He never left her side. She sat by him at every meal. She hadgone alone with him in his howdah to the _Moti Mahal_, when every otherelephant had carried more than two persons. He knew that she had alwaysregarded the Hindu as a friend, but he had not thought that she was soattracted to him. Certainly now she did not appear content away from him.What would Charlesworth, who hated natives, think of it?

  As for himself, their former friendship seemed dead. He had naturally beenhurt when she had not waited in the hotel at Darjeeling, though she knewthat he was coming to say good-bye to her. But perhaps Charlesworth hadkept her out, so he could not blame her. But why had she deliberatelyavoided him here in the Palace? What was the reason of her unfriendliness?Yet that morning in the lounge after breakfast he had chanced to pass herwhere she stood beside Chunerbutty, who was speaking to a servant. She haddetained him for a moment to tell him that she wished to see him alone sometime, for she wanted his advice. She seemed rather mysterious about it, andhe remembered that she had spoken in a low tone, as if she did not desireany one else to hear what she was saying.

  What did it all mean? Well, if he could help her with advice or anythingelse he would. He had not realised how fond he was of her until thisestrangement between them had arisen.

  As he sat puzzling over the problem the servant who waited on him enteredthe room and salaamed.

  "_Ghurrib Parwar!_ (Protector of the Poor.) I bring a message for YourHonour. The English missie _baba_ sends salaams and wishes to speak withyou."

  Dermot sprang up hastily.

  "Where is she, Rama? In the lounge?"

  "No, _Huzoor_. The missie _baba_ is in the Red Garden."

  "Where is that?"

  "It is the Rajah's own private garden, through there." The servant pointeddown to the gateway in the high wall of the courtyard below. He had openedthe shutter of the window by which they were standing. "I will guide YourHonour. We must go through that door over there under His Highness'sapartments."

  "_Bahut atcha_, Rama. I will come with you. Give me my _topi_," criedDermot, feeling light-hearted all at once. Perhaps the misunderstand
ingbetween Noreen and him would be cleared up now. He took his sun-hat fromthe man and followed him out of the room.

  * * * * *

  Noreen was greatly perplexed about the insult, as she considered it, of theRajah's offer of the necklace. She feared to tell her brother, who might beangry with her for suspecting his friend of condoning an impertinence toher. Equally she felt that she could not confide in Ida or any one else,lest she should be misjudged and thought to have encouraged the engineerand his patron. To whom could she turn, sure of not being misunderstood? Ifonly Dermot had remained her friend!

  She was torn with longings to know the truth about his relations with Ida.The uncertainty was unbearable. That morning in her room she had boldlyattacked Ida and asked her frankly. The other woman made light of the wholeaffair, pretended that Noreen had misunderstood her on that night inDarjeeling, and laughed at the idea of any one imagining that she had everbeen in love with Dermot.

  The girl was more puzzled than ever. Her heart ached for an hour or twoalone with her one-time friend of the forest. O to be out with him onBadshah in the silent jungle, no matter what dangers encircled them!Perhaps there the cloud between them would vanish. But could she not speakto him here in the Palace? He seemed to be no longer fascinated with Ida,if indeed he ever had been. She could tell him of the Rajah's insult. Hewould advise her what to do, for she was sure that he would not misjudgeher. And perhaps--who knew?--her confiding in him might break down the wallthat separated them. She forgot that it had been built by her ownresentment and anger, and that she had eluded his attempts to approach her.Even now she felt that she could not speak to him before others.

  Growing desperate, she had that morning snatched at the opportunity to askhim for an interview. Chunerbutty, who seemed always to cling to her nowwith the persistence of a leech, had as usual been with her, but hisattention had been distracted from her for a moment. She hoped that theHindu had not overheard her. Yet what did it matter if he had? Dermot hadunderstood and nodded, as he passed on with the old, friendly look in hiseyes. Perhaps all would come right.

  She had seen him leave the lounge after lunch, but she remained thereconfident that he would return. She felt she could not talk to the othersso she withdrew to a table near one of the shuttered windows and pretendedto read the newspapers on it.

  Payne was there, deep in the perusal of an article in an English journal onthe disturbed state of India. Mrs. Rice, impervious to snubs, was trying toimpress the openly bored Ida with accounts of the gay and fashionable lifeof Balham. The men were scattered about the room in groups, some discussingin low tones the occurrences of the day before at the _Moti Mahal_, otherstalking of the illuminations and fireworks which were to wind up theirentertainment in Lalpuri on this the last night of their stay. For all wereleaving on the morrow.

  Suddenly there was a wild outcry outside. Loud cries, the shouts of men,the terrifying trumpeting of an elephant, resounded through the courtyardbelow and echoed weirdly from the walls of the buildings. A piercing shriekof agony rang high above the tumult of sound and chilled the blood of thelisteners in the lounge.

  Payne tore fiercely at the stiff wooden shutters of the window near him,which led out to the long balcony. Suddenly they burst open and he sprangout.

  "Good God!" he cried in horror. "Look! Look! Dermot's done for!"

  * * * * *

  The soldier had followed Rama, who led him through an unfamiliar part ofthe Palace along low passages, down narrow winding staircases, throughpainted rooms, in some of which female garments flung carelessly on thecushions seemed to indicate that they were passing through a portion of the_zenana_. Finally they reached a marble-paved hall on the ground-floor,where two attendants, the first persons whom they had seen on their way,lounged near a small door. They were evidently the porters and appeared toexpect them, for they opened the door at Rama's approach. Through it Dermotfollowed his guide out into the courtyard on which he had often looked fromthe balcony of his room. He looked up at the lounge, two stories above hishead, its long casements shuttered against the heat. Then he noticed thatin none of the buildings surrounding the court were there any windows lowerthan the second story, and the only entrance into it from the Palace wasthe small door through which he had just passed. Almost at the moment hestepped into the courtyard a familiar sound greeted his ears. It was thetrumpeting of an elephant. But there was a strange note of rage andexcitement in it, and he thought of the remarks of the _mahouts_ theprevious day on the return from the _Moti Mahal_. Probably the _must_elephant of which they spoke was chained somewhere close by.

  As he crossed the courtyard he chanced to glance up at the shutteredwindows of the apartments which he had been told were occupied by theRajah. At that moment one of them was opened and a white cloth waved fromit by an unseen hand. He wondered was it a signal. He stooped to fasten abootlace, and Rama, who was making for the gateway in the high wall formingthe fourth side of the courtyard, called impatiently to him to hasten. Theservant's tone was impertinent, and Dermot looked up in surprise.

  Then suddenly Hell broke loose. From the direction in which they wereproceeding came fierce shouts of men, yells of terror, and the angrytrumpeting of an elephant mingled with the groaning of iron dragged overstone and the crashing of splintered wood. Rama, who was a few yards ahead,turned and ran past the white man, his face livid. Dermot looked after himin surprise. The man had dashed back to the little door and was beating onit madly with his fists. It was opened to admit him and then hastilyclosed. The soldier heard the rusty bolts grinding home in their sockets.

  Scenting danger and fearing a trap he stood still in the middle of thecourtyard.

  The uproar continued and drew nearer. Suddenly it was dominated by ablood-curdling shriek of agony. Through the wide gateway he saw five orsix men fleeing across the farther courtyard, which was surrounded by ahigh wall. Behind them rushed a huge tusker elephant, ears and tailcocked, eyes aflame with rage. He overtook one man, struck him down withhis trunk, trod him to pulp, and then pursued the others. Some of them,crazed with terror, tried to climb the walls. The savage brute struckthem down one after another, gored them or trampled them to death.

  Three terrified wretches fled through the gateway into the courtyard inwhich Dermot was standing. One stumbled and the elephant caught him up. Thedemented man turned on it and tried to beat it off with his bare hands.With a scream of fury the maddened beast drove his blood-stained tusk intothe wretch's body, pitched him aloft, then hurled him to the ground andgored him again and again. The dying shriek that burst from the labouringlungs turned Dermot's blood cold. The body was kicked, trampled on, andthen torn limb from limb.

  The two other men had dashed wildly across the courtyard. One reached thesmall door and was beating madly on it with bleeding knuckles, but itremained implacably closed. The other, driven mad by fear, was runninground and round the courtyard like a caged animal, stopping occasionally toraise imploring hands and eyes to the windows of the Palace, which were nowfilled with spectators. Even the roofs were crowded with natives lookingdown on the tragedy being enacted below.

  Dermot realised that he had been trapped. There was no escape. He looked upat the Rajah's windows. One had been pushed open, and he thought that hecould see the _Dewan_ and his master watching him. He determined that hewould not afford them the gratification of seeing him run round and roundthe walls of the courtyard like a rat in a trap until death overtook him.So, when the elephant at last drew off from its victim and stood irresolutefor a moment, he turned to face it.

  It seemed to him that he heard his voice called, faintly and from far away,but all his faculties were intent on watching the death that approached himin such hideous guise. Dermot's thoughts flew to Badshah for a moment, butswung back to centre on the coming annihilation. With flaming eyes, trunkcurled, and head thrown up, the elephant charged.

  For one brief instant the man felt an insane desire to flee but, masterin
git, he faced the on-rushing brute. A minute more, and all would be over.The soldier was unconscious of the shouts that rent the air, of thespectators crowding the balconies and windows. He felt perfectly cool nowand had but one regret--that he had not been able to see Noreen again, asshe had wished, before he died.

  He drew a deep breath, his last perhaps before Death reached him, and tooka step forward to meet his doom.

  But at his movement a miracle happened. Not five yards from him thecharging elephant suddenly tried to check its rush, flung all its weightback and, unable to halt, slid forward with stiffened fore-legs over thepaving-stones. When at last it stopped one tusk was actually touching theman. Tail, ears, and trunk drooped, and it backed with every evidence ofterror. Some instinct had warned it at the last moment that this man wassacred to the mammoth tribe.

  Like a flash enlightenment came to Dermot. Once again a mysterious powerhad saved him. The elephant knew and feared him. Yet he seemed as one in adream. He looked up at the native portion of the Palace and became aware ofthe spectators on the roofs, the staring faces at the windows, the eyes ofthe women peering at him through the latticed casements of the _zenana_.The Rajah and the _Dewan_, all caution forgotten in their excitement, hadthrown open the shutters from behind which they had hoped to witness hisdeath, and were leaning out in full view.

  Dermot laughed grimly, and the thought came to him to impress thesetreacherous foes more forcibly. He walked towards the shrinking elephant,raised his hand, and commanded it to kneel. The animal obeyed submissively.The soldier swung himself on to its neck, and the animal rose to its feetagain.

  He guided it across the courtyard until it stood under the window fromwhich the Rajah and the _Dewan_ stared down at him in amazement andsuperstitious dread. Then he said to the animal:

  "_Salaam kuro!_ (Salute!)"

  It raised its trunk and trumpeted in the royal salutation. With a mockingsmile, Dermot lifted his hat to the shrinking pair of murderers and turnedthe elephant away.

  Then for the first time he became aware that the balcony of the lounge wascrowded with his fellow-countrymen. Ida and Mrs. Rice were sobbinghysterically on each other's shoulders. Noreen, clinging to her brother,whose arm was about her, was staring down at him with a set, white face.And as he looked up and saw them the men went mad. They burst into a roarof cheering, of greeting, and applause that drove the Rajah and hisMinister into hiding again, for the shouts had something of menace in them.

  Dermot took off his hat in acknowledgment of the cheers and, seeing theHindu engineer shrinking behind the others with an expression of amazedterror on his face, called to him:

  "Would you kindly send one of your friends to open the door, Mr.Chunerbutty? It seems to have got shut by some unfortunate accident."

  He brought the elephant to its knees and dismounted. Then as it rose hepointed to the gateway and said in the _mahout's_ tongue:

  "Return to your stall."

  The animal walked away submissively. The two surviving natives shrankagainst the buildings in deadly fear, but the animal disappeared quietly.

  Dermot went to the door and waited. Soon he heard the key turned in thelock and the rusty bolts drawn back. The door was then flung open by one ofthe porters, while the others huddled against the wall, for Barclay stoodin front of them with a pistol raised. He sprang forward and seizedDermot's hand.

  "Heaven and earth! How are you alive?" he cried. "I thought the devils hadgot you this time. I was tempted to shoot these swine here for being solong in opening the door."

  There was a clatter of boots on the marble floor, as Payne and Granger,followed by the rest of the Englishmen, ran up the hall, cheering. Theycrowded round Dermot, nearly shook his arm off, thumped him on the back,and overwhelmed him with congratulations.

  As Dermot thanked them he said:

  "I didn't know that you fellows were looking on, otherwise I wouldn't havedone that little bit of gallery-play. But I had a reason for it." "Yes; weknow," said Payne significantly. "Barclay told us."

  Then they dragged him protesting upstairs to the lounge, that the womenmight congratulate him too; which they did each in her own fashion. Ida waseffusive and sentimental, Mrs. Rice fatuous, and Noreen timid and almoststiff. The girl, who had endured an agony worse than many deaths, could notvoice her feelings, and her congratulations seemed curt and cold to othersbesides Dermot.

  She had no opportunity of speaking to him apart, even for a minute, for themen surrounded him and insisted on toasting him and questioning him untilit was time to dress for dinner. And even then they formed a guard ofhonour and escorted him to his room.

  Noreen, utterly worn out by her sleepless nights and the storm of emotionsthat had shaken her, was unable to come down to dinner, and at herbrother's wish went to bed instead. And so she did not learn that Dermotwas leaving the Palace at the early hour of four o'clock in the morning.

  That night as Dermot and Barclay went upstairs together the police officersaid:

  "I wonder if they'll dare to try anything against you tonight, Major. Ishould say they'd give you a miss in baulk, for they must believe youinvulnerable. Still, I'm going with you to your room to see."

  When they reached it and threw open the door a figure half rose from thefloor. Barclay's hand went out to it with levelled pistol, but the wordsarrested him.

  "_Khodawund!_ (Lord of the World!) Forgive me! I did not know. I did notknow."

  It was the treacherous Rama who had tried to lead Dermot to his death. Helay face to the ground.

  "Damned liar!" growled Barclay in English.

  "Did not know that thou wert leading me under the feet of the _must_elephant?" demanded Dermot incredulously.

  "Aye, that I knew of course, _Huzoor_. How can I deceive thee? But thee Iknew not; though the elephant Shiva-_ji_ did, even in his madness. It isnot my fault. I am not of this country. I am a man of the Punjaub. I knownaught of the gods of Bengal."

  Barclay had heard from the planters the belief in Dermot's divinity whichwas universal in their district, and perceived that the legend had reachedthis man. He was quick to see the advantages that they could reap from hissuperstitious fears. He signed to Dermot to be silent and said in solemntones:

  "Rama, thou hast grievously offended the gods. Thou knowest the truth atlast?"

  "I do, Sahib. The talk through the Palace, aye, throughout the city, is allof the God of the Elephants, of the Terrible One who feeds his herd ofdemons on the flesh of men. The temple of _Gunesh_ will be full indeedtonight. But alas! I am an ignorant man. I knew not that the holy one tookform among the _gora-logue_ (white folk)."

  "The gods know no country. The truth, Rama, the truth," said Barclayimpressively. "Else thou art lost. Shiva-_ji_, mayhap, is hungry and needshis meal of flesh."

  "Ai! sahib, say not so," wailed the terror-stricken man. "He has feastedwell today. With my own eyes I saw him feed on Man Singh the Rajput."

  Natives believe that an elephant, when it seizes in its mouth the limbsof a man that it has killed and is about to tear in pieces, eats hisflesh. In dread of a like doom, of the terrible vengeance of thismysterious Being, god, man, or demon, perhaps all three, from whomdeath shrank aside, whom neither poison of food nor venom of snake couldharm, who used mad, man-slaying elephants as steeds, Rama unburdened hissoul. He told how the _Dewan's_ confidential man had bade him carry outthe attempts on Dermot's life. He showed them that the Major'ssuspicions when he saw the Rajah's soldiery were correct, and that fromLalpuri came the inspiration of the carrying-off of Noreen. He told themof a party of these same soldiers that had gone on a secret mission intothe Great Jungle, from which but a few came back after awful sufferings,and the strange tales whispered in the bazaar as to the fate of theircomrades.

  He disclosed more. He spoke of mysterious travellers from many lands thatcame to the Palace to confer with the _Dewan_--Chinese, Afghans, Bhutanese,Indians of many castes and races, white men not of the sahib-_logue_. Hesaid enough to convince his hearers that many thre
ads of the world-wideconspiracy against the British Raj led to Lalpuri. There was not proofenough yet for the Government of India to take action against its rulers,perhaps, but sufficient to show where the arch-conspirators of Bengal wereto be sought for.

  Rama left the room, not pardoned indeed, but with the promise of punishmentsuspended as long as he was true to the oath he had sworn by the BlessedWater of the Ganges, to be true slave and bearer of news when Dermot neededhim.

  Long after he left, the two sat and talked of the strange happenings of thelast few days, and disclosed to each other what they knew of the treasonthat stalked the land, for each was servant of the Crown and his knowledgemight help the other. And when the hoot of Payne's motor-horn in the outercourtyard told them that it was time for Dermot to go, they said good-byein the outwardly careless fashion of the Briton who has looked intoanother's eyes and found him true man and friend.

  Then through the darkness into the dawn Dermot sped away with hiscompanions from the City of Shame and the Palace of Death.

  And Noreen woke later to learn that the man she loved had left her againwithout farewell, that the fog of misunderstanding between them was not yetlifted.