The Rifle And The Hound In Ceylon(Fiscle Part-3), Sir Samuel White Baker [most inspirational books .txt] 📗

Had His Death Blow The Ball

Had Severed His Jugular,  And The Blood Poured From The Wound. He

Stopped,  But Collecting His Stunned Energies He Still Blundered Forward

Towards B. He,  However,  Avoided Him By Running To One Side,  And The

Wounded Brute Staggered On Through The Jungle. We Now Loaded The Guns;

The First Rogue Was Quite Dead,  And We Followed In Pursuit Of Rogue

Number Two. We Heard Distant Shots,  And Upon Arriving At The Spot We

Found The Gun-Bearers. They Had Heard The Wounded Elephant Crushing

Through The Jungle,  And They Had Given Him A Volley Just As He Was

Crossing The River Over Which The Herd Had Escaped In The Morning. They

Described The Elephant As Perfectly Helpless From His Wound,  And They

Imagined That He Had Fallen In The Thick Bushes On The Opposite Bank Of

The River. As I Before Mentioned,  We Could Not Cross The River On

Account Of The Torrent,  But In A Few Days It Subsided,  And The Elephant

Was Found Lying Dead In The Spot Where They Supposed He Had Fallen.

 

Thus Happily Ended The Destruction Of This Notable Pair; They Had Proved

Themselves All That We Had Heard Of Them,  And By Their Cunning Dodge Of

Hiding In The Thick Jungle They Had Nearly Made Sure Of Us. We Had

Killed Three Rogues That Morning,  And We Returned To Our Quarters Well

Satisfied.

 

Since That Period I Have Somewhat Thinned The Number Of Rogues In This

Neighbourhood. I Had A Careful And Almost Certain Plan Of Shooting Them.

Quite Alone,  With The Exception Of Two Faithful Gun-Bearers,  I Used To

Wait At The Edge Of The Jungle At Their Feeding Time,  And Watch Their

Exit From The Forest. The Most Cautious Stalking Then Generally Enabled

Me To Get A Fatal Shot Before My Presence Was Discovered. This Is The

Proper Way To Succeed With Rogue Elephants,  Although Of Course It Is

Attended With Considerable Danger. I Was Once Very Nearly Caught Near

This Spot,  Where The Elephants Are Always Particularly Savage. The Lake

Was Then Much Diminished In Size By Dry Weather,  And The Water Had

Retired For About A Hundred Yards From The Edge Of The Forest,  Leaving A

Deep Bed Of Mud Covered With Slime And Decayed Vegetable Matter. This

Slime Had Hardened In The Sun And Formed A Cake Over The Soft Mud

Beneath. Upon This Treacherous Surface A Man Could Walk With Great Care.

Should The Thin Covering Break Through,  He Would Be Immediately

Waist-Deep In The Soft Mud. To Plod Through This Was The Elephant's

Delight. Smearing A Thick Coat Of The Black Mud Over Their Whole Bodies,

They Formed A Defensive Armour Against The Attacks Of Mosquitoes,  Which

Are The Greatest Torments That An Elephant Has To Contend With.

 

I Was Watching The Edge Of The Forest One Afternoon At About Four

O'clock,  When I Noticed The Massive Form Of One Of These Tank Rogues

Stalk Majestically From The Jungle And Proceed Through The Deep Mud

Towards The Lake. I Had The Wind,  And I Commenced Stalking Him.

 

Advancing With My Two Gun-Bearers In Single File,  I Crept Carefully From

Tree To Tree Along The Edge Of The Forest For About A Quarter Of A Mile,

Until I Arrived At The Very Spot At Which He Had Made His Exit From The

Jungle.

 

I Was Now Within Eighty Yards Of Him As He Stood With His Head Towards

The Lake And His Hind-Quarters Exactly Facing Me. His Deep Tracks In The

Mud Were About Five Feet Apart,  So Great Was His Stride And Length Of

Limb,  And,  Although The Soft Bog Was At Least Three And A Half Feet

Deep,  His Belly Was Full Two Feet Above The Surface. He Was A Fine

Fellow,  And,  With Intense Caution,  I Advanced Towards Him Over The

Trembling Surface Of Baked Slime. His Tracks Had Nearly Filled With

Water,  And Looked Like Little Wells. The Bog Waved As I Walked Carefully

Over It,  And I Stopped Once Or Twice,  Hesitating Whether I Should

Continue; I Feared The Crusty Surface Would Not Support Me,  As The

Nearer I Approached The Water's Edge The Weaker The Coating Of Slime

Became,  Not Having Been Exposed For So Long A Time To The Sun As That At

A Greater Distance.

 

He Was Making So Much Noise In Splashing The Mud Over His Body That I

Had A Fine Chance For Getting Up To Him. I Could Not Withstand The

Temptation,  And I Crept Up As Fast As I Could.

 

I Got Within Eight Paces Of Him Unperceived; The Mud That He Threw Over

His Back Spattered Round Me As It Fell. I Was Carrying A Light

Double-Barrelled Gun,  But I Now Reached Back My Hand To Exchange It For

My Four-Ounce Rifle. Little Did I Expect The Sudden Effect Produced By

The Additional Weight Of The Heavy Weapon. The Treacherous Surface

Suddenly Gave Way,  And In An Instant I Was Waist Deep In Mud. The Noise

That I Had Made In Falling Had At Once Aroused The Elephant,  And,  True

To His Character Of A Rogue,  He Immediately Advanced With A Shrill

Trumpet Towards Me. His Ears Were Cocked,  And His Tail Was Well Up; But

Instead Of Charging,  As Rogues Generally Do,  With His Head Thrown Rather

Back And Held High,  Which Renders A Front Shot Very Uncertain,  He Rather

Lowered His Head,  And Splashed Towards Me Through The Mud,  Apparently

Despising My Diminutive Appearance.

 

I Thought It Was All Up With Me This Time; I Was Immovable In My Bed Of

Mud,  And,  Instead Of The Clean Brown Barrel That I Could Usually Trust

To In An Extremity,  I Raised A Mass Of Mud To My Shoulder,  Which Encased

My Rifle Like A Flannel Bag. I Fully Expected It To Miss Fire; No Sights

Were Visible,  And I Had To Guess The Aim With The Advancing Elephant

Within Five Yards Of Me. Hopelessly I Pulled The Slippery Trigger. The

Rifle Did Not Even Hang Fire,  And The Rogue Fell Into The Deep Bed Of

Mud Stone Dead. If The Rifle Had Missed Fire I Must Have Been Killed,  As

Escape Would Have Been Impossible. It Was With Great Difficulty That I

Was Extricated From My Muddy Position By The Joint Exertions Of Myself

And Gun-Bearers.

 

Elephants,  Buffaloes,  And Hogs Are Equally Fond Of Wallowing In The Mud.

A Buffalo Will Gallop Through A Swamp,  Hock Deep,  In Which A Horse Would

Part 3 Chapter 5 Pg 39

Be Utterly Powerless,  Even Without A Rider. Elephants Can Also Make

Wonderful Progress Through Deep Mud,  The Formation Of The Hind Legs With

Knees Instead Of Hocks Giving Them An Increased Facility For Moving

Through Heavy Ground.

 

The Great Risk In Attacking Rogue Elephants Consists In The

Impracticability Of Quick Movements Upon Such Ground As They Generally

Frequent. The Speed And Activity Of A Man,  Although Considerable Upon A

Smooth Surface,  Is As Nothing Upon Rough,  Stumpy Grass Wilds,  Where Even

Walking Is Laborious. What Is Comparatively Level To An Elephant's Foot

Is As A Ploughed Field To That Of A Man. This Renders Escape From

Pursuit Next To Impossible,  Unless Some Welcome Tree Should Be Near,

Round Which The Hunter Could Dodge,  And Even Then He Stands But A Poor

Chance,  Unless Assistance Is At Hand. I Have Never Seen Anyone Who Could

Run At Full Speed In Rough Ground Without Falling,  If Pursued. Large

Stones,  Tufts Of Rank Grass,  Holes,  Fallen Boughs,  Gullies,  Are All

Impediments To Rapid Locomotion When The Pursued Is Forced To Be

Constantly Looking Back To Watch The Progress Of His Foe,  And To Be The

Judge Of His Own Race.

 

There Is A Great Art In Running Away. It Requires The Perfection Of

Coolness And Presence Of Mind,  Without Which A Man Is Most Likely To Run

Into The Very Danger That He Is Trying To Avoid. This Was The Cause Of

Major Haddock's Death In Ceylon Some Years Ago. He Had Attacked A

'Rogue,' And,  Being Immediately Charged,  He Failed To Stop Him,  Although

He Gave Him Both Barrels. Being Forced To Run,  He Went Off At Full

Speed,  And Turning Quickly Round A Tree,  He Hoped The Elephant Would

Pass Him. Unfortunately,  He Did Not Look Behind Him Before He Turned,

And The Elephant Passed Round The Opposite Side Of The Tree,  And,  Of

Course,  Met Him Face To Face. He Was Instantly Trampled To Death.

 

Mr. Wallet Was Also Killed By A Rogue Elephant; This Animal Was Shot A

Few Days Afterwards,  In A Spirited Contest,  By Captain Galway And Ensign

Scroggs,  Both Of Whom Were Very Nearly Caught In The Encounter. A

Gentleman Of The Name Of Keane Was Added To The List Of Victims A Few

Years Ago. He Had Fired Without Effect,  And Was Almost Immediately Over-

Taken By The Elephant And Crushed To Death. The Most Extraordinary Tale

That I Have Ever Heard Of Rogue Elephants In Ceylon Was Told Me By The

Rhatamahatmeya Of Doolana,  Who Was Present At The Scene When A Lad. I Do

Not Profess To Credit It Entirely; But I Will Give It In His Own Words,

And,  To Avoid The Onus Of An Improbable Story,  I Will Entitle It The

'Rhatamahatmeya's Tale.' In Justice To Him,  I Must Acknowledge That His

Account Was Corroborated By All The Old Men Of The Village.

 

The Rhatamahatmeya's Tale.

 

'There Was A Notorious Rogue Elephant At Doolana About Thirty Years Ago,

Whose Ferocity Was So Extreme That He Took Complete Possession Of A

Certain Part Of The Country Adjoining The Lake. He Had Killed Eight Or

Nine Persons,  And His Whole Object In Existence Appeared To Be The

Waylaying And Destruction Of The Natives. He Was Of Enormous Size,  And

Part 3 Chapter 5 Pg 40

Was Well Known By A Peculiar Flesh-Coloured Forehead.

 

`In Those Days There Were No Fire-Arms In This Part Of The Country;

Therefore There Was No Protection For Either Life Or Property From This

Monster,  Who Would Invade The Paddy-Fields At Night,  And Actually Pull

Down The Watch-Houses,  Regardless Of The Blazing Fires Which Are Lighted

On The Hearth Of Sand On The Summit; These He Used To Scatter About And

Extinguish. He Had Killed Several Natives In This Manner,  Involving Them

In The Common Ruin With Their Watch-Houses. The Terror Created By This

Elephant Was So Extreme That The Natives Deserted The Neighbourhood That

He Infested.

 

`At Length Many Months Passed Away Without His Being Either Seen Or

Heard Of; The People Began To Hope That He Had Died From The Effect Of

Poisoned Arrows,  Which Had Frequently Been Shot At Him From The

Watch-Houses In High Trees; And,  By Degrees,  The Terror Of His Name Had

Lost Its Power,  And He Ceased To Be Thought Of.

 

`It Was In The Cool Of The Evening,  About An Hour Before Sunset,  That

About Twenty Of The Women From The Village Were Upon The Grassy Borders

Of The Lake,  Engaged In Sorting And Tying Into Bundles The Rushes Which

They Had Been Gathering During The Day For Making Mats. They Were On The

Point Of Starting Homeward With Their Loads,  When The Sudden Trumpet Of

An Elephant Was Heard,  And To Their Horror They Saw The Well-Known

Rogue,  With The Unmistakable Mark Upon His Forehead,  Coming Down In Full

Charge Upon Them. The Ground Was Perfectly Open; There Were No