The Eagle Cliff, R. M. Ballantyne [best fiction books to read .txt] 📗

other tame elephants, not yet engaged, were sent to his assistance. These easily threw two more nooses over the wild creature, and, after a good run, she was finally exhausted, secured with ropes, and driven back to camp, there to be subjected to coercive treatment until she should become tame.

“Meanwhile, other captures were being made in the field. I was just moving off, after seeing this female secured, when a tremendous shouting attracted me. It was a party chasing a fine young tusker. He was very cunning, and ran about, dodging hither and thither, taking advantage of every tree and bush and inequality, while the mahowts failed again and again to noose him. I made my mahowt drive our animal so as to turn him back. We had no appliances to capture, as I was there only to look on and admire. At last a good throw noosed him, but he slipped through, all except one hind leg. On this the noose luckily held, and in a few minutes we had him secure. Of course, in driving our prisoners to camp, the tame elephants were used to guide them, stir them up, push them on, and restrain or punish them, as the case might require. This was easy with the smaller females and young ones, but it was a very different matter with big males, especially with rogues, as we found out before the close of that day.

“We were getting pretty well used up towards the afternoon, and had sent ten full-grown elephants and three calves into camp, when we received news that the rogue, which had been so long a terror to the district, was in the neighbouring valley. So we resolved to go for him. Of course there was no possibility of noosing such a monster. The ordinary elephants could never have been brought to face him. Our only hope therefore lay in our gladiators; and our plan was to make them knock him down repeatedly, until, at length, he should be tired out.

“I need not waste time with details. It is sufficient to say that, after about an hour’s search, we came upon the rogue in a dense part of the jungle. He was, as I have said, unusually big, as well as fierce. But our hero, Chand Moorut, had never yet met his match, so we resolved to risk an encounter. There was the dry bed of a river, which the rogue would have to cross when driven down the valley by the gun-men. Here our gladiator was placed, partially concealed and ready to meet the rogue when he should appear. Fifty yards back the other fighting elephants were placed in support, and behind these were drawn up the rest of the khedda in three lines. Then the spectators, many of whom were ladies, were placed on a ledge of rock about forty feet above the river-bed, which commanded a good view of the proposed field of battle.

“Up to this time perfect silence had been maintained in our ranks. My elephant was stationed near the centre of the line, from which point I could see Chand Moorut standing calmly near the river-bed, with what I could almost fancy was a twinkle in his eye, as though he suspected what was coming.

“Suddenly a single shot was heard from up the valley. As it came echoing towards us, it was mingled with the spattering fire, shouting and yelling of the beaters, who began to advance. Chand Moorut became rigid and motionless, like a statue. He was evidently thinking! Another instant, and the rogue’s shrill trumpet-note of defiance rang high above the din. Trembling and restive the ordinary khedda elephants showed every symptom of alarm; but the fighters stood still, with the exception of Chand, who, becoming inflated with the spirit of war, made a sudden dash up the valley, intent on accepting the challenge! Fifty yards were passed before his mahowt, with voice, limb, and prod managed to reduce the well-trained warrior to obedience. Solemnly, and with stately gait, he returned to his position, his great heart swelling, no doubt, with anticipation.

“Scarcely had he taken up his position when the bushes higher up were seen to move, and the huge black form of the rogue appeared upon the scene. Unlike the lively young elephant that had escaped us in the morning, this old rogue marched sedately and leisurely down the hill-side, apparently as much unconcerned about the uproar of shooting and shouting in his rear as if it had been but the buzzing of a few mosquitoes. I confess that doubts as to the issue of the combat arose in my mind when I first saw him, for he appeared to be nearly, if not quite, as big as Chand Moorut himself, and of course I knew that the hard and well-trained muscles of a wild elephant were sure to be more powerful than those of a tame one. I stupidly forgot, at the moment, that indomitable pluck counts for much in a trial of mere brute force.

“Ignorant of what was in store for him, with head erect, and an air of quiet contempt for all animate creation, the rogue walked into the dry bed of the river, and began to descend. Expectation was now on tiptoe, when to our disgust he turned sharp to the right, and all but walked in amongst the spectators on the ledge above, some of whom received him with a volley of rifle balls. As none of these touched a vital spot, they might as well have been rhubarb pills! They turned him aside, however, and, breaking through the left flank of the khedda, he took refuge in the thickest jungle he could find. The whole khedda followed in hot pursuit, crashing through overgrowth of canes, creepers, and trees, in the midst of confusion and rumpus utterly inconceivable, therefore beyond my powers of description! We had to look out sharply in this chase, for we were passing under branches at times. One of these caught my man Quin, and swept him clean off his pad. But he fell on his feet, unhurt, and was quickly picked up and re-seated.

“In a short time we came in sight of the rogue, who suddenly turned at bay and confronted us. The entire khedda came to a most inglorious halt, for our heavy fighters had been left behind in the race, and the others dared not face the foe. Seeing this, he suddenly dashed into the midst of us, and went straight for the elephant on which our director and his wife were seated! Fortunately, a big tree, chancing to come in the rogue’s way, interfered with his progress. He devoted his energies to it for a few moments. Then he took to charging furiously at everything that came in his way, and was enjoying himself with this little game when Chand Moorut once more appeared on the scene! The rogue stopped short instantly. It was evident that he recognised a foeman, worthy of his steel, approaching. Chand Moorut advanced with alacrity. The rogue eyed him with a sinister expression. There was no hesitation on either side. Both warriors were self-confident; nevertheless, they did not rush to the battle. Like equally-matched veterans they advanced with grim purpose and wary deliberation. With heads erect, and curled trunks, they met, more like wrestlers than swordsmen, each seeming to watch for a deadly grip. Suddenly they locked their trunks together, and began to sway to and fro with awful evidence of power, each straining his huge muscles to the uttermost—the conflict of Leviathan and Behemoth!

“For only a few minutes did the result seem doubtful to the hundreds of spectators, who, on elephant-back or hill-side, gazed with glaring eyes and bated breath, and in profound silence. The slightly superior bulk and weight of our gladiator soon began to tell. The rogue gave way, slightly. Chand Moorut, with the skill of the trained warrior or the practised pugilist, took instant advantage of the move. With the rush of a thunder-bolt he struck the rogue with his head on the shoulder. The effect was terrific. It caused him to turn a complete somersault into the jungle, where he fell with a thud and a crash that could be heard far and near, and there he lay sprawling for a few moments, nothing but struggling legs, trunk, and tail being visible above the long grass!”

“Hooray!” shouted Junkie, unable to restrain himself.

“Just what my man Quin said,” continued Jackman. “Only he added, ‘Musha!’ ‘Thunder-an’-turf,’ and ‘Well, I niver!’ And well he might, too, for none of us ever saw such a sight before. But the victory was not quite gained yet, for the rogue sprang up with amazing agility, and, refusing again to face such a terrible foe, he ran away, pursued hotly and clamorously by the whole khedda. I made my mahowt keep as close to Chand Moorut as possible, wishing to be in at the death. Suddenly a louder uproar in advance, and a shrill trumpeting assured me that the rogue had again been brought to bay.

“Although somewhat exhausted and shaken by his flight and the tremendous knock down, he fought viciously, and kept all his smaller foes at a respectful distance by repeated charges, until Chand Moorut again came up and laid him flat with another irresistible charge. He staggered to his feet again, however, and now the other fighting elephants, Raj Mungul, Isri Pershad, and others, were brought into action. These attacked the rogue furiously, knocking him down when he attempted to rise, and belabouring him with their trunks until he was thoroughly exhausted. Then one of the khedda men crept up behind him on foot, with thick ropes fitted for the purpose of tying him, and fixed them on the rogue’s hind legs. But the brave man paid heavily for his daring. He was still engaged with the ropes when the animal suddenly kicked out and broke the poor fellow’s thigh. He was quickly lifted up and taken to camp.

“Not so quickly, however, was the rogue taken to camp! As it was growing dark, some of us resolved to bivouac where the capture had been made, and tied our captive to a tree. Next morning we let him go with only a hind leg hobbled, so that he might find breakfast for himself. Then, having disposed of our own breakfast, we proceeded to induce our prisoner to go along with us—a dangerous and difficult operation. As long as he believed that he might go where he pleased, we could induce him to take a few steps, forward, but the moment he understood what we were driving at, he took the sulks, like an enormous spoilt child, and refused to move. The koonkies were therefore brought up, and Raj Mungul, going behind, gave him a shove that was irresistible. He lost temper and turned furiously on Raj, but received such an awful whack on the exposed flank from Isri Pershad, that he felt his case to be hopeless, and sulked again. Going down on his knees he stuck his tusks into the ground, like a sheet anchor, with a determination that expressed, ‘Move me out o’ this if you can!’

“Chand Moorut accepted the unspoken challenge. He gave the rogue a shove that not only raised his hind legs in the air, but caused him to stand on his head, and finally hurled him on his back. As he rose, doggedly, he received several admonitory punches, and advanced a few paces. Spearmen also were brought forward to prick him on, but they only induced him to curl his trunk round a friendly tree that came in his way, and hold on. Neither bumping, pricking, nor walloping had now any effect. He seemed to have anchored himself there for the remainder of his natural life by an unnatural attachment.

“In this extremity the khedda men had recourse to their last resource. They placed under him some native fireworks, specially prepared for such emergencies,