Reginald having ascertained where Colonel and Miss Ross were living, was making his way through the broad streets of the “city of palaces,” intending to pay his respects to them, when he met a military-looking man in an undress suit, who, regarding him earnestly, advanced towards him with his hand extended.
“My dear boy, I am delighted to see you!” exclaimed the stranger. “Have you been successful? I long to hear.”
“I am in a fair way, I trust, of succeeding, although there may be not a few difficulties in my path,” answered Reginald. “I am truly thankful, however, to find you here, as I thought that you were far away—either in Pegu or at Delhi. Are you at liberty, my dear Burnett, or can you get leave of absence? If you could accompany me, you would be of the greatest possible assistance.”
“Most fortunately, I obtained leave of absence for six months, only yesterday, and was contemplating making a shooting excursion with Knox and Jones; but they must excuse me, and I will devote myself to your service,” answered Captain Burnett.
“Thank you, my dear fellow; thank you,” exclaimed Reginald. “Your experience and knowledge of the people will smooth away many difficulties which beset my path, and I gladly accept your kind offer. I feel somewhat selfish, as I know you sacrifice your own convenience for my sake.”
“Don’t talk about that, Reginald,” said Captain Burnett. “If you have nothing better to do, come to my quarters and inspect my sporting gear. We may get some shooting on the way; I always try to combine amusement with business.”
“I will join you before long; but I have a visit to pay first to some friends who came out in the ship with me, and unless they detain me I shall soon be at liberty.”
“You can easily excuse yourself; and I shall expect you at dinner, at all events,” said Captain Burnett.
“But I would, I confess, rather dine with them, if they ask me,” answered Reginald. “You would excuse me if you knew how I am circumstanced.”
“Is a fair lady in the case?” asked Captain Burnett. “You need not say so; I am sure of it. Take care, Reginald; don’t get entangled. Young fellows are apt to do so, and to be sorry for it afterwards. Come, let me advise you to leave your card at your friends, with a message that you are bound up country; and that will settle the matter. The lady will be married by the time you come back again.”
“That I am sure she will not,” exclaimed Reginald. “She is totally unlike the ordinary run of girls.”
“Well, well! Take my advice in this matter, as you are ready to do in others, and retain your freedom of action,” said Captain Burnett, in a serious tone.
Reginald, parting from his friend, hurried on, hoping to find Violet alone. A dark-skinned porter, in white dress and with turban on head, opened the door, and inquired his name. The sahib was not at home, and Miss Ross could receive no visitors, said the servant.
“Take up my card, and say that I am waiting,” replied Reginald.
The porter, after carefully examining the card, gave it to another servant. The man gave a peculiar look as he obeyed the order. He was some time absent, and when he returned he delivered a note addressed to Reginald in Violet’s handwriting. He did not venture to open it in the presence of the servants; but as soon as he got outside the house he eagerly scanned the few lines it contained.
“My father has positively forbidden me to see you,” she wrote. “He hopes that time will obliterate your image; but that is impossible. Trust to me, as I do to you.—Yours, Violet.”
Reginald was naturally bitterly disappointed; but yet he had faith in woman’s constancy, and he went his way with hopes unabated, feeling sure, from what he knew of Colonel Ross, that he would use no harsh measures to compel his daughter to act contrary to her own inclinations. Still, he could not feel otherwise than pained and anxious. By the time, however, that he reached his friend’s quarters, he had somewhat recovered his serenity of mind. He kept his own counsel, simply observing that Colonel Ross, on whom he had called, was not at home; and Captain Burnett forbore to ask further questions.
He had plenty of amusement in examining the rifles and various articles which Captain Burnett had prepared for his intended shooting expedition.
“You must accept this rifle from me, Reginald,” he said, presenting a first-rate weapon; “and this brace of pistols. You may depend on their never missing fire, if properly attended to. And let me advise you always to load them yourself; never trust to a servant. I always do as I advise; one’s life may be sacrificed from carelessness.”
The following day the friends, attended by Dick Thuddichum and four native servants, were on their road to the north-west.
They had to proceed, for a considerable distance, up the river Ganges, in a budgerow. Though rudely built, she skimmed merrily over the water when the breeze was favourable. She was decked all over with bamboo; and on the after-part was erected a cottage of bamboo, which served as a cabin and baggage-room. In the fore-part were two small ranges of brick-work, raised a few inches above the deck, with small round holes, shaped like a lime-kiln, for holding charcoal, on which provisions were dressed. Above the cabin, and supported on upright bamboos, was a grating, on which the crew sat or stood to work the vessel. A long bamboo, with a circular board at the end fixed astern, served as a rudder; the oars also being long bamboos of the same description. The mast was a stout bamboo, carrying a squaresail and topsail of a coarse and flimsy canvas.
In this clumsy-looking craft the travellers made themselves comfortable, however. They had also a small canoe towing astern, in which, when the wind was contrary, and the budgerow had to bring up alongside the bank, they made excursions to the other side of the river or up one of its affluents.
Burnett, who was really a keen sportsman, never failed to take his gun, and generally came back with a good supply of game. One day, however, he was unwell, and Reginald started by himself to visit some interesting ruins a short distance ahead, the canoe being paddled by two of the crew. They had got some distance when he found that he had brought neither his rifle nor pistols: however, he did not think it worth while to return for them. They were at some little distance from the bank, when one of the crew cried out—
“See, sahib, see! Here comes a tiger!”
On looking in the direction in which the man pointed, he caught sight, not of a tiger, but of a huge panther, and a native about a hundred yards before him rushing at headlong speed, bounding and springing towards the river, while the panther with rapid leaps pursued its hoped-for prey. Reginald ordered the men to paddle in towards the shore, in the hope of rescuing the panting wretch from the jaws of the panther. Just before they reached the bank, the native bounded into the water, which rose up to his neck; but he was apparently too exhausted to swim towards the canoe, though with imploring accents he entreated the sahib to come to his rescue.
At that instant the dark snout of an enormous crocodile rose above the surface—the saurian, to Reginald’s horror, making its way towards the struggling native.
“Crocodile! Crocodile!” shouted Reginald to the native; who, hearing him, after a moment’s hesitation rushed back towards the bank, thus again facing the panther. The creature for a moment appeared disconcerted at the sudden movement of its expected victim and the approach of the canoe, towards which the man made a desperate spring; but the savage panther, eager for its prey, at the same moment leaped forward and seized the unhappy man by the leg, while Reginald grasped his arm. At that instant the crocodile, which had retreated a short distance, dashed up, and catching the miserable being—who gave vent to the most fearful shrieks—by the other leg, with one snap of its jaws bit it off.
In vain Reginald shouted to the crew to attack the creatures with their oars. The cowardly wretches, instead of moving, shrank down at the further end of the canoe; while the panther, peeling off the flesh of the leg, reached at length the ankle, where with a horrid crunch it severed the bone, and galloped away with the fearful mouthful.
Reginald drew the poor man—now quite senseless—into the canoe, and endeavoured to stanch the blood flowing from his wounds by tourniquets, formed of pieces of wood, round the upper parts of his legs; but his efforts were in vain, and before the canoe reached the budgerow the man was dead.
Continuing their course up the Ganges, visiting on their way several of the numerous towns, temples, and ruins of various sorts which adorn its banks, they at length landed, and continued their route by land. They were now in a woody district, bordering the banks of a river, when Captain Burnett’s “shikaree wallah,” or huntsman, informed them that it abounded in tigers, and that if they wished to kill a few they would have an opportunity of doing so. Although Reginald would gladly have pushed on, he sacrificed his own wishes for the sake of allowing his friend to enjoy a few days’ sport.
Burnett had a friend (Major Sandford) living at a village not far off, who, hearing of their arrival, invited them to take up their abode at his bungalow. He confirmed the report of the abundance of tigers, which the superstitious Hindoos took no pains to destroy; observing—
“They believe that the souls of men pass after their death into the bodies of animals, and that it must be the soul of some great personage alone which is allowed to inhabit the ferocious tiger. They therefore allow the creatures to range about as they please; and when any poor fellow is seized by one of the brutes—as is frequently the case—he will humbly beg the tiger sahib to set him free, or to finish him mercifully. The natives, however, have no objection to my killing any of their lordships; and we will this evening go to a fort on the banks of the Ganges near which they are wont to pass on their way to drink at the river. We will carry provisions and liquor, so that we may pass our time agreeably till one of the brutes appears.”
The party accordingly, accompanied by several natives of rank, with their servants, set out, and were not long in reaching their destination. The top of the fort offered a safe spot whence any number of wild beasts could be shot down without the slightest risk to the sportsmen of being attacked in return. A table and chairs were placed on the roof of the fort, and the English gentlemen and Hindoos sat in the cool of the evening quaffing their claret and conversing on various topics, with their rifles ready loaded placed against the parapet, while a lookout kept watch for the approach of a tiger, panther, or any other denizen of the forest.
“Few men have more narrowly escaped becoming tiger’s meat than I have,” said Major Sandford. “I carry some ugly marks about me to bear witness to the fact; besides having the slight ‘halt’ in my walk which you may have observed. I was, some eight years ago, out shooting with several companions, and being somewhat tired, I sat down on the side of the bank, having left my gun a few feet from me. The rest of the party had gone to a little distance, when, suddenly looking up, I saw a huge tiger spring out of the jungle, and before I had time to reach my gun the brute had seized me by the leg—which I thought, by the fearful way he held it, he would have bitten off. The rest of the party, seeing my fearful condition, began to shout at the top of their voices, hoping to drive off the beast. They were afraid to fire, for fear of killing me. But the tiger was not to be disappointed of his expected dinner; so, throwing me over his back with one jerk, off he trotted. I did not, however, lose my presence of mind; but recollecting that I had a brace of pistols in my belt, I drew one and pulled the trigger. To my horror, it missed fire! I had still another. I managed to get hold of it, well knowing that if that missed my fate was sealed. Pointing the muzzle at the brute’s head, I fired. The tiger gave a leap, and opening its mouth, let me drop, while it fell down dead by my side. I scrambled away as fast as I could, scarcely believing that I was safe, till my friends coming up assured me of the fact, and congratulated me on my merciful escape.”
The subject of the “power of the human eye?” over the most savage animals was touched on.
“There can be no doubt about it,” observed Captain Burnett. “I was once a short distance from a village, accompanied by my shikaree wallah, when we heard the cry of ‘Help! Help!—a tiger! A tiger!’ resounding through the forest. Having loaded our guns with bullets, and seen that our pistols were primed, we hurried towards the spot, when we came in sight of a native who stood facing a huge tiger. From our relative positions, it was somewhat difficult to shoot without running the risk of hitting the man; we therefore shouted together, to try and make the tiger move. He did so, and I at length got a shot at him; but though he was hit, off he went without his expected meal. The native then told us that while in the jungle he had suddenly caught sight of a beast about to spring on him, when, with admirable presence of mind, instead of running, he stood with his eye steadily fixed on the savage monster. The tiger, wavering before the human eye, slunk behind a bush; but every now and then he peered forth to see whether the man’s glance was still fixed on him. The brute continued moving from bush to bush, as if endeavouring to avoid the undaunted gaze of his adversary, that he might have an opportunity of springing out and seizing him. Each time the tiger moved, the native turned facing his cunning foe, and shouting at the top of his voice, in the hope that assistance might come to him.”
“I can narrate a still more wonderful instance of the same power,” observed one of the native gentlemen.
But as he spoke the lookout, turning round, said in a low whisper—
“Here comes the tiger, sahib!” and the sportsmen, springing from their seats, seized their guns, ready to fire at the monster as soon as it should come within range. At a leisurely pace the tiger trotted on, the outline of its form seen clearly in the moonlight. It had just got close to the water, when, Burnett firing, the monstrous brute rolled over, casting a glance of defiance at the foe it had only then discovered. A second shot laid it lifeless on the ground. Both gentlemen reloaded; and Reginald proposed hurrying down to secure the skin.
“We may very likely, if we do so, lose our own,” observed the major. “Let us wait, and before long we may add a few more tigers to our bag.”
They were not disappointed. Another tiger and two panthers were shot. This being the most accessible part of the bank for some distance, it was evidently the watering-place of numerous wild animals. They had just killed their third tiger, and were agreeing that it was time to secure the skins and return home, when a fourth tiger appeared, stalking leisurely out of the jungle towards the water, coming much nearer the fort than any of the others had done. It stopped for a moment and looked up at its foes, without exhibiting the alarm which the others had displayed. Reginald declared that he caught the gleam of gold on its neck.
“It may be an enchanted prince, then,” said Burnett; “or, as our friends here believe, the habitat of the soul of some great maharajah, who has not laid aside all the trappings of royalty;—but we shall soon learn.”
As he spoke, he raised his rifle to fire. The tiger at that moment, however, gave a sudden bound and escaped the ball, and turning round, frightened by the noise, sprang back quick as lightning into the jungle, before any of the rest of the party could take steady aim.
No other wild beast appearing, the party descended; and while some kept watch to shoot any which might come out of the jungle, the others secured the skins of the beasts which had been slain. Packing them up on the backs of the elephants, they returned to Major Sandford’s bungalow, well satisfied with their night’s sport.
The next day they set out to visit the more distant part of the forest. The party had four elephants. Reginald and Burnett, with their friend, and several native gentlemen, were seated in howdahs on the backs of the elephants. The howdah is something like the body of a carriage, with an awning to shield the occupants from the heat of the sun. Gorgeously-ornamented cloths covered the backs of the huge animals, while the mahouts sat on their necks, to direct them where to go and what to do. Reginald, not accustomed to that style of shooting, thought it very dull work, and longed to be on foot, where he could encounter the savage monsters face to face.
On reaching the jungle, the elephants moved along the borders to some distance, while beaters, with loud shouts, endeavoured to dislodge any tiger which might be lurking there. At length up went the trunks of the elephants—a sure sign that they had discovered a tiger at no great distance. The brute, seeing so many enemies, had apparently no stomach for the fight, and was observed stealing off amid the jungle. Three or four shots were fired at it, but so rapid and eccentric were its movements that it escaped them all. As no other tiger appeared, Reginald at last proposed to Burnett that they should seek the savage brutes in their lairs. Burnett agreed, but cautioned him to be on the alert, and to keep his attendants close to him, with their rifles loaded, that he might have another weapon at hand should he fail to kill the animal at the first shot.
“Remember, your life may depend on it; for, believe me, a wounded tiger is the most dangerous of antagonists.”
Dismounting from the elephants which had carried them to the borders of the jungle, each gentleman, attended by a native carrying an additional gun, approached the jungle, into which the beaters fearlessly threw themselves. The forest was tolerably thick, so that they soon by some chance became separated. Reginald, hearing the beaters, and believing that they were driving a tiger towards him, made his way onward to a spot from whence he believed that he should have an opportunity of firing to advantage. It was near the river, with a small open space in front of him, through which there was every probability that the tiger would make its way. He took his post behind a thick tree, which would afford him shelter should he fail to bring down the animal at the first shot; while he charged his attendants to keep a watchful eye around, lest the creature might come out behind him. Scarcely had he taken up his post, when he heard a loud chattering, and looking up, saw that the trees were alive with monkeys, which were peering down upon him, wondering what had brought so strange-looking an animal into their domain. As he did not move, they grew bolder, and began frolicking about, swinging backwards and forwards, some with both paws, others with one, turning somersaults, and performing all sorts of strange antics.
“See, sahib! What is that?” said the shikaree wallah in a low voice, pointing to a sunny spot at no great distance off, where Reginald caught sight of the huge head of a crocodile, with its jaws open. The creature was apparently fast asleep, basking in the sun. Reginald raised his rifle, intending to shoot the saurian, when at that moment there was a rustling in the bush, and a magnificent young tigress walked out on her way to drink at the river. The creature had not advanced far when her eye fell on the crocodile, towards which she stealthily crept, her soft padded feet making not the slightest noise as they trod the ground. Reginald was thankful that he had not fired at the crocodile, as it probably would have brought the tigress upon himself at the very moment that he was unarmed. He considered whether he should shoot the magnificent creature, but he was curious to see what she would do with the crocodile. On she went, till she got within a little distance of the saurian, when, making a spring, she seized the creature’s tongue, evidently with the intention of dragging it out. The attempt was a dangerous one. The instant the crocodile felt her paw in its mouth, it closed its huge jaws, and holding her foot fast, began to crawl towards the water. So great was the agony she suffered that she was unable to make any resistance, or to seize the head of the crocodile in her mouth. While she shrieked with pain, the crocodile slowly drew her on towards the river, into which, her instinct told her, should the saurian once dive, her fate would be sealed. In vain the tigress struggled to free herself, and drag back the crocodile. The monkeys, meantime, seemed to think the affair great fun; and seeing their two enemies engaged, began to descend the branches close to the ground; and one of them, more daring than the rest, actually tried to get hold of the ear of the tigress. She, however, lifting up her paw, was about to give it a blow which would have finished its existence, when, nimbly climbing up again, it got out of her way. Meanwhile, the crocodile was dragging the unfortunate tigress still nearer and nearer the river. She turned her eyes round, as if to look for some branch which she might grasp, and save herself from her impending fate. At that moment they fell on Reginald, when she gave him a look which seemed to implore his pity, as he thought. In a few seconds the crocodile would have reached the water; but just then the tigress caught a firm hold of the trunk of a tree projecting into the river, to which she held on, at the risk of having her paw bitten off. Possibly the saurian might, at the same time, have seen its human foes, or it might have been that the sudden jerk it received in consequence of the powerful resistance put forth by its captive, made it open its mouth. The tigress on this quickly drew out her fearfully-mangled paw, leaving the crocodile to plunge with a loud flop into the water, deprived of its expected prey; while she, fearing perhaps that it might again return to seize her, crawled back howling with pain towards the thicket.
“Shoot, sahib! Shoot!” exclaimed the shikaree wallah; but Reginald had not the heart to do so. Slowly the tigress crawled on, probably fearing him more than she had her late enemy, and turning a glance towards him, in which defiance was mingled with dread. Feeling herself unable to fight, it was evidently her intention to escape if she could; but overcome at length with the fearful pain she was suffering, she sank down exhausted on the ground. The native huntsman seemed to think it a piece of folly on the part of Reginald not at once to despatch her.
“No, I will not do that,” said Reginald in answer to his expostulations. “It is not the custom of white men to slaughter a fallen foe. See! The poor tigress looks up as if imploring my assistance.”
“As you think fit, sahib,” answered the huntsman; “but if she recovers she will become the mother of numberless tigers and tigresses; and who can tell how many people they will destroy?”
This argument would have prevailed with Reginald, and he would, at all events, have allowed the huntsman to kill the tigress, had she not at that moment cast at him a look, which he seemed to fancy implored his mercy. As he approached, however, while she lay on the ground unable to move, she uttered a loud snarl of anger, and ground her teeth, and opened out the claws of her uninjured feet, as the feline race are wont to do, as if about to seize him. Still he persevered, wishing, if possible, to capture the animal alive. Speaking to her in a soothing voice, he got near her head, holding his rifle in such a position that he might fire in a moment, should she turn round and attempt to seize him; she was, however, too much hurt to move. Gradually he got close to her head, when, stooping down, he first patted it gently, still uttering the same soothing words. At first, while he continued to stroke it, she looked up suspiciously at him, as if to ask what he wanted; but soon understanding that his motives were friendly, she ceased her cries. At length she put out her lacerated limb, and seemed to ask him to do what he could to relieve her pain. He fortunately had a flask of spirits in his pocket, with which he bathed her foot; and then, taking out a handkerchief, he carefully bound it up. It seemed at once to relieve the animal of pain; and all the natural ferocity of her countenance disappearing, she cast at him a look full of gratitude, while she attempted to lick his hand.
Nothing could exceed the astonishment of the shikaree wallah and his companion—who had during the time retired to a respectful distance—when they saw the tigress get up and slowly follow Reginald, as a dog does its master. She, however, would not allow them to approach her, but snarled in a way which made them immediately take to flight. Reginald on this called them back, and stroking the head of the tigress, tried to make her understand that she was to treat them as friends. She understood him; and when they came near she no longer showed any signs of wishing to hurt them.
“Why, sahib,” exclaimed the shikaree wallah, “see! She is not a wild tigress after all. There is a golden collar round her neck. She must have belonged to some great rajah, and made her escape from his palace.”
On a closer examination, Reginald discovered what the quick eye of the native had detected, a band of gold, partly hidden by the creature’s hair.
“There cannot be a doubt, then, that she is the very animal we saw last night,” observed Reginald. “She is my property now, at all events; and I feel very sure that she will follow no one else.”
By this time the shouts and cries of the beaters ceased to reach their ears, and Reginald knew that they must have gone in a different direction to that which he had followed. Several shots, however, the sound of which came from a distance, showed him that Burnett and his party had met with game; but as he found no real pleasure in tiger-shooting, he was anxious to get back to the bungalow, where they intended to stop till the next evening before resuming their journey. He wished, indeed, to astonish his friend, by exhibiting his prize, when Burnett was boasting, as he probably would, of the number of tigers he had killed. Leaving word with the elephant drivers that he had returned on foot, and bidding them say nothing about his captive, he hastened homeward, followed by his two astonished attendants.
“He is indeed a wonderful young man,” observed the shikaree wallah. “How courageously he walked up to the tiger; it makes my knees even now tremble to think of it. Wallah, he is a brave youth.”
As Reginald walked on, with his hand on the tigress’s head, he considered what name he should give the animal. “She has evidently become attached to me, and will follow me about like a dog,” he said to himself. “Very likely she may be of use, too, for I suspect that no robbers, nor even Thugs, would dare attack a man with a tigress as his protector. What shall I call her? Violet? Violet? No, certainly not. There is nothing in common, except I may say affection for me. Faithful? Yes, Faithful. That, I am sure, will prove the chief characteristic of the creature. Faithful shall be her name!”
By the time he had arrived at this decision he reached Major Sandford’s bungalow. The sitting-room was of large extent, ornamented with the skins of antelopes, bison, and stag horns of various kinds, and with native swords, bows, arrows, spears, and battle-axes; while the floor was covered with the hides of bears, leopards, tigers, and deer; and a number of tables, sofas, and chairs of all shapes were scattered about on it. Placing three of the chairs in a row, Reginald covered them with skins, so as to form a screen; and calling to Faithful, he bade her lie down behind them. He threw himself on a sofa in front to await the arrival of his friends. Before long he caught sight of Burnett’s elephant approaching.
“How comes it, you lazy fellow, that you return home without a single skin to show?” asked Captain Burnett, as he entered.
“Pardon me, but I have not returned without a skin,” said Reginald. “Here, Faithful, show yourself.”
As he spoke the tigress raised her head above the screen with a menacing expression in her countenance which made Burnett start back and draw one of his pistols.
“Don’t fire!” exclaimed Reginald. “The brute is tame, though I only captured her this morning. See! I became her surgeon, and she is grateful for the service I rendered her.”
Burnett could scarcely believe his senses, till the secret of her apparent sudden tameness was disclosed.