The Battery and the Boiler, Robert Michael Ballantyne [best book club books .TXT] 📗

a grunt he stood back an' gave the post a look o' surprise, as much as to say, Did ye do that a-purpose, ye spalpeen? Then he tried it again, an' got another shock that sot up his dander, for he twisted his long nose round the post, goin' to pull it down, no doubt, but he got another shock on the nose that made him squeal an' draw back. Then he lowered his great head for a charge. It's all over wid ye now, me post, says I; but the baste changed its mind, and wint off wid its tail an' trunk in the air, trumpetin' as if it had got the toothache. Well, after that nothin' came for some time, and I think I must have gone off to slape, for I was awoke by a most tremendious roar. Lookin' up I saw a tiger sprawlin' on his back beside the post! Av coorse the shock wasn't enough to have knocked the baste over. I suppose it had tripped in the surprise. Anyhow it jumped up and seized the post with claws an' teeth, whin av coorse it got another shock that caused it to jump back about six yards, with its tail curled, its hair all on end, all its claws out, an' its eyes blazin'. You seem to feel it, says I--into meself, for fear he'd hear me. He didn't try it again, but wint away into the bush like a war-rocket. After that, five or six little wild pigs came down, an' the smallest wan wint straight up to the post an' putt his nose to it. He drew back wid a jerk, an' gave a scream that seemed to rend all his vitals. You don't like it, thinks I; but, faix, it looked as if I was wrong, for he tried it again. Another shock he got, burst himself a'most wid a most fearful yell, an' bolted. His brothers didn't seem to understand it quite. They looked after him in surprise. Then the biggest wan gave a wriggle of his curly tail, an' wint to the post as if to inquire what was the matter. When _he_ got it on the nose the effect was surprisin'. The curl of his tail came straight out, an' it quivered for a minute all over, wid its mouth wide open. The screech had stuck in his throat, but it came out at last so fierce that the other pigs had to join in self-defence. I stuck my fingers in my ears and shut me eyes. When I opened them again the pigs were gone. It's my opinion they were all dissolved, like the zinc plates in a used-up battery; but I can't prove that. Well, while I was cogitatin' on the result of my little invintion, what should walk out o' the woods but a man! At first I tuk him for a big monkey, for the light wasn't very good, but he had a gun on his shoulder, an' some bits o' clothes on, so I knew him for a human. Like the rest o' them, he wint up to the post an' looked at it, but didn't touch it. Then he came to the pool an' tuk a dhrink, an' spread out his blanket, an' began to arrange matters for spendin' the rest o' the night there. Av coorse he pulled out his axe, for he couldn't do widout fire to kape the wild bastes off. An' what does he do but go straight up to my post an' lift his axe for a good cut. Hallo! says I, pretty loud, for I was a'most too late. Whew! What a jump he gave--six futt if it was an inch. Whin he came down he staggered with his back agin the post. That was enough. The jump he tuk before was nothin' to what he did after. I all but lost sight of him among the branches. When he returned to the ground it was flat on his face he fell, an', rowlin' over his head, came up on his knees with a roar that putt the tigers and pigs to shame. Sarves you right, says I, steppin' out of my hole. Av coorse he thought I was a divil of some sort, for he turned as white in the face as a brown man could, an' bolted without so much as sayin' farewell. The way that nigger laid his legs along the ground was a caution. Ostriches are a joke to it. I picked up his blanket an' fetched it home as a keepsake, an' from that day to this the telegraph-posts have been held sacred by man an' baste all over that part of the country.'"

"I'd like to meet wi' the feller that told that yarn," said Jim Slagg.

"So should I," said Letta, laughing.

"You shall both have your wish, for there he stands," said Redpath, as they dashed round the corner of a bit of jungle, on the other side of which lay as pretty a bungalow as one could wish to see. A man-servant who had heard the wheels, was ready at the gate to receive the reins, while under the verandah stood a pretty little woman to receive the visitors. Beside her was a black nurse with a white baby.

"Here we are, Flinn," said Redpath, leaping to the ground. "All well, eh?"

"Sure we're niver anything else here, sor," replied Flinn, with a modest smile.

"I've just been relating your electrical experiences to my friends," said the master.

"Ah! now, it's drawin' the long bow you've been," returned the man; "I see it in their face."

"I have rather diluted the dose than otherwise," returned Redpath. "Let me introduce Mr Slagg. He wishes to see Indian life in the `servants'-hall.' Let him see it, and treat him well."

"Yours to command," said Flinn, with a nod as he led the horses away. "This way, Mr Slug."

"Slagg, if you please, Mr Flinn," said Jim. "The difference between a a an' a u ain't much, but the results is powerful sometimes."

While Slagg was led away to the region of the bungalow appropriated to the domestics, his friends were introduced to pretty little Mrs Redpath, and immediately found themselves thoroughly at home under the powerful influence of Indian hospitality.

Although, being in the immediate neighbourhood of a veritable Indian jungle, it was natural that both Sam and Robin should wish to see a little sport among large game, their professional enthusiasm rose superior to their sporting tendencies, and they decided next day to accompany their host on a short trip of inspection to a neighbouring telegraph station. Letta being made over to the care of the hostess, was forthwith installed as assistant nurse to the white baby, whom she already regarded as a delicious doll--so readily does female nature adapt itself to its appropriate channels.

Not less readily did Jim Slagg adapt himself to one of the peculiar channels of man's nature. Sport was one of Slagg's weaknesses, though he had enjoyed very little of it, poor fellow, in the course of his life. To shoot a lion, a tiger, or an elephant, was, in Slagg's estimation, the highest possible summit of earthly felicity. He was young, you see, at that time, and moderately foolish! But although he had often dreamed of such bliss, he had never before expected to be within reach of it. His knowledge of sport, moreover, was entirely theoretic. He knew indeed how to load a rifle and pull the trigger, but nothing more.

"You haven't got many tigers in these parts, I suppose?" he said to Flinn as they sauntered towards the house after seeing the electrical party off. He asked the question with hesitation, being impressed with a strange disbelief in tigers, except in a menagerie, and feeling nearly as much ashamed as if he had asked whether they kept elephants in the sugar-basin. To his relief Flinn did not laugh, but replied quite gravely--"Och! yes, we've got a few, but they don't often come nigh the house. We have to thravel a bit into the jungle, and camp out, whin we wants wan. I heard master say he'd have a try at 'em to-morrow, so you'll see the fun, for we've all got to turn out whin we go after tigers. If you're fond o' sport in a small way, howiver, I can give ye a turn among the birds an' small game to-day."

"There's nothing I'd like better," said Slagg, jumping at the offer like a hungry trout at a fly.

"Come along, then," returned the groom heartily; "we'll take shot-guns, an' a spalpeen of a black boy to carry a spare rifle an' the bag."

In a few minutes the two men, with fowling-pieces on their shoulders, and a remarkably attenuated black boy at their heels carrying a large bore rifle, entered the jungle behind the electrician's bungalow.


CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.


A GREAT FIELD-DAY, IN WHICH SLAGG DISTINGUISHES HIMSELF.

Now, although we have said that Jim Slagg knew how to pull a trigger, it does not follow that he knew how to avoid pulling that important little piece of metal. He was aware, of course, that the keeping of his forefinger off the trigger was a point of importance, but how to keep it off when in a state of nervous expectation, he knew not, because his memory and the forefinger of his right hand appeared to get disconnected at such times, and it did not occur to him, just at first, that there was such an arrangement in gun-locks as half-cock.

Flinn reminded him of the fact, however, when, soon after entering the jungle, his straw hat was blown off his head by an accidental discharge of Slagg's gun.

"Niver mention it," said Flinn, picking up his riven headpiece, while poor Slagg overwhelmed him with protestations and apologies, and the black boy stood behind exposing his teeth, and gums and the whites of his eyes freely; "niver mention it, Mr Slagg; accidents _will_ happen, you know, in the best regulated families. As for me beaver, it's better riddled than whole in this warm weather. Maybe you'd as well carry your gun at what sodgers call `the showlder,' wid the muzzle pintin' at the moon--so; that's it. Don't blame yoursilf, Mr Slagg. Sure, it's worse than that I was when I begood, for the nasty thing I carried wint off somehow of its own accord, an' I shot me mother's finest pig--wan barrel into the tail, an' the other into the hid. You see, they both wint off a'most at the same moment. We must learn by exparience, av coorse. You've not had much shootin' yet, I suppose?"

Poor, self-condemned Slagg admitted that he had not, and humbly attended to Flinn's instructions, after which they proceeded on their way; but it might have been observed that Flinn kept a corner of his eye steadily on his new friend during the remainder of that day, while the attenuated black kept so close to Slagg's elbow as to render the pointing of the muzzle of his gun at him an impossibility.

Presently there was heard among the bushes a whirring of wings, and up flew a covey of large birds of the turkey species. Flinn stepped briskly aside, saying, "Now thin, let drive!" while the attenuated black