Читать книгу: «The Sa'-Zada Tales», страница 4

"Sher Bagh dragged the Goru to a jungle of Kakra trees, and we ate it all. But the next day the Horned Ones did not feed in that place, and as we were walking in the close of the daytime Sher Bagh heard the thin-voiced cry of a Gond cart coming over the road; it was like the song of the Koel bird; it was made by the wheels, I think. 'There will be Goru to the cart,' said Sher Bagh. 'Yes, two of them,' answered Baghni, 'but also one of the Men-kind, a little Gond.' 'Even now I am hungry,' declared Sher Bagh; 'when I roar in front of the Goru the little Gond will pass quickly into a sal tree, and then we can eat of his Bullocks.'

"It was as my Sire had said, and we made a kill, and carried them far from the roadside, and had the sweetest eating for two nights. All our strength was coming back to us, and Baghni, purring softly, for she was pleased, said to her Lord, 'Did I not say "drink the blood of the Goru," when we were starving, and are they not easy of kill?' But Sher Bagh, looking up in the trees, for it was as we came to the kill for our second night's eating, answered, 'We must be careful, for upon us will surely fall the full hate of these little Gonds; and they claim a kill for a kill, blood for blood; it is their manner of life when they deal with others of the Men-kind.'

"I knew that fear of the little Gonds had come strong upon my Sire when he looked up to the sal trees, for, as I have said, it is not of our habit to look up; we fear nothing of the jungle that hides in trees. The Peacocks, and Monkeys, and Crows, even Panther – what are they? Nothing to claim the time of my kind. Said Sher Bagh to Baghni, 'The Goru that go in carts are easy for the kill.' 'And there are always two of them,' answered she.

"This new manner of life by practice became easy to us; we would hide in the khagar grass or the jowri, which is a nut grass of the Men, beside the road at the day's end, and always we would know of the cart's coming by its voice, that was like Koel bird's, or the miaou of a Peacock. We made many a kill of this kind. And it was this way that I became first of all a Man-killer, even my first kill was of the Men-kind, just an evil chance. It was Baghni who said to Sher Bagh, 'Baghela must know the method of a kill. We have now not much hunger, so let him make the next kill of the Goru, and if he misses, it will not matter, for we are well fed.'

"I shall never forget that night as I crouched by the road beside Baghni, waiting for the little Gond with his Goru. I was trembling like the tall grass shivers at the top when one passes through it. 'Keep still,' whispered Baghni; 'a little noise makes a hard kill, and much noise is no kill at all.' If it had been a Sambhur or a Nilgai we should have had no supper, for the grass whispered under me as I shook it with my trembling. Then down the road in the early dark came the cart with its snarling voice. Just as the Goru were opposite, Baghni struck me with her tail and cried, 'Ah-h-houk!' which means to charge. As I sprang, being but a Baghela, and my first kill, I was slow, and the Goru jumped, causing me to miss sadly. But I landed full on the cart, and by an evil chance the little Gond was under my paws. Mind, Comrades, with me it was but a kill, and I could not see his eyes, and without intent on my part his shoulder was in my jaws, and in less time than I can tell it I had him in the jungle. It was my first kill, and I was wild – but I don't want to talk about it. I wish he had beaten me off, even struck me with the thunder-stick, for, after all, what was the kill? not bigger than a Chetal, and it brought the full hate of the Men-kind to us, and Sher Bagh and Baghni were slain."

"By the little Gonds?" asked Hathi.

"The Gonds and the Sahibs," answered Tiger. "Even your people, Hathi, took part in the kill of my Sire and Baghni. But it was our old enemy, hunger, that caused it all. For three nights we waited by the roadside and no carts passed. It is true one passed; a lodhi cartman, with the wisdom of Cobra, put Pig's fat on the wheels of his cart, and there was no noise until he was right upon us, even had passed, for the stalk had not properly started, you see. 'Never mind,' said Baghni, 'the little Men of a slow wit, the Gonds, will come this way with their Goru, many of them'; but they didn't. And save for two old Langurs (monkeys) that cursed from a pipal tree as we went back to our Nullah, we saw no Dweller of the Jungle, nor of the fields. 'The hate of the little Gonds is coming to us,' growled Bagh. 'And I am so hungry,' moaned Baghni. 'Baghela should not have killed any of the Men-kind,' declared my Sire.

"The Men go to their rest at night, even the little Gonds, knowing that the Jungle Dwellers will not come in great numbers to the fields because of our guard. And it was but an evil chance, too, that I made a kill of the Gond. But when we were most hungered, after many days, one night, not far from our Nullah, was a Bullock tied to a tree. 'Waw-houk!' exclaimed Baghni, calling her Lord to the find; 'Che-waugh!' said she, 'here is a Bail of the Men-kind; make the kill.'

"'It is of their hate,' growled Sher Bagh, 'the Bullocks do not come of their own way here to the jungle – we must be careful.'

"Half the night was gone before we had stalked all sides of the Goru, but there was nothing – not even up in the sal leaves. That was what Baghni said, for with her sharp eyes she saw Hookus (big green pigeon), resting on a branch, which meant that there was nothing to frighten him. When Sher Bagh had made the kill, he dragged it far away from our Nullah. That was most wise, Comrades; it was so that the Men-kind should not find our home.

"When our hunger was gone Baghni said, 'We will eat again when the sun's light passes once more.' 'No,' growled my Sire, 'we will not come back to the kill, for the hate of the little Gonds will be here when they see that we have eaten of the Goru.'

"That was wise also. To make sure, and to teach me, a Baghela, Sher Bagh took us down wind from the drag next night, and the scent of the Men-kind came strong in our faces. 'Our enemies are there,' declared Bagh.

"Being a Baghela I thought this fine play, and by the cunning of my Sire we killed what we found tied in the Jungle, but never went back to the drag. Even once in the dark, as we hunted, hearing the grunt of a Goru, and going up wind to it, Sher Bagh knew that the Hunters were waiting in the sal and pipal trees over the bait, so we went back to the Nullah and rested on lean stomachs."

"Your Sire was too clever for them," commented Magh, as Tiger ceased speaking for an instant.

"Perhaps it was clever," answered Raj Bagh. "But in two days more something came to us that no Jungle Dweller can withstand: a full beat of the Jungles.

"Being but a Baghela," sighed Raj Bagh, "I did not know what it was when the beat commenced; I thought that the forest winds were in an evil temper, but Sher Bagh cried to Baghni, 'Quick! we must go far, for now comes the hate of the white-faced kind, for the beat is their way of a kill.' We lay quiet in our Nullah, thinking they might pass. 'Tap, tap, tap!' I heard on one side, much like the klonk, klonk! of Mis-gar (coppersmith bird). 'What is that?' I asked my Sire.

"'The sal trees cry because they are stricken by the Beaters,' he answered. 'Tum, tum, tum-m!' I heard from the other side of the Nullah. 'Is it the belling of a Nilgai?' I asked. 'The little Gonds who are of this beat call with their drums,' answered Sher Bagh. 'All the jungle is falling,' I cried. 'It is the coming of Hathi,' answered my Sire, 'for it is a beat of many Hathi. Come, Baghela, come, Baghni,' he called, and we stole like frightened Chinkara through the sal and pipal jungle.

"'To the Baghni-wali nulla!' (tigress valley) cried Sher Bagh to us as we followed. But as we sought to enter this place of many caves a Beater smote at us with the thunder-stick from a tree, but that was only to frighten us away, for Bagh whispered, 'The Beaters are not to make the kill.'

"'Here will be little spoor for them to follow,' growled Sher Bagh as we ran. Soon we thought we had lost those who sought our lives. As we rested for a little while in some thick, wild plum bushes they came all about us. There were many Hathi, and on three of the Hathi were little caves – "

"Haudas," corrected Elephant. "That is the way the Men-kind ride on my back when we are in the beat."

"And the Men had thunder-sticks with which they smote Sher Bagh and Baghni. 'Waw, waw-houk!' roared my Sire when he was struck – 'Che-waugh!' he cried to me, 'flee, Baghela, while I charge.' With a rush he sprang on a big Hathi's nose, and I think he got even to the hauda, for the Hathi turned and ran, screaming with pain; and I, seeing this, broke from my cover and charged back through the Beaters who were on foot. Just in my path I saw one of the Beaters striking two sticks together. Being cross because of my hot pads, and what they had done to Sher Bagh, I seized this one, and took him with me.

"After that, I lived alone, and because the Jungle Dwellers had fled from those parts, and because of the wrong we had from these Gonds, I became a Man-killer, eating that which was put in my reach."

"How did they catch you?" questioned Wolf.

"Because I sought to change my way of life," answered Bagh, "and leaving the Man-kill I made to satisfy my hunger with a Goat. I heard the Goat cry at night-time," continued Bagh, "and after a careful stalk, finding nothing of the presence of Man, I sprang on Bakri the Goat – "

"And the Goat captured you," cried Magh, gleefully.

"Together we fell into a deep hole that had been dug by the evil little Gonds. Though I ate the Bakri I could not get out again, and in the morning the Men were all about me, both white and black. How the little Men reviled me! But it seemed the Sahibs wanted to take me alive, so they dug another hole close to the one in which I was, put a big wooden cage with a door to it down, and then with long spears broke through the walls between the cage and the hole I was in. Of course, I was glad enough to go any place; besides, they threw down on me their dreadful fire. I sprang in the cage and the door dropped behind me. Then many of the Men-kind pulled the cage out with ropes, and I was sent here to Sa'-zada."

FIFTH NIGHT
THE STORY OF THE TRIBE OF KING COBRA

It was the fifth night of the Sa'-zada tales. As usual, Hathi, Grey Wolf, and all the other animals, jostling each other merrily like a lot of schoolboys, had gathered in front of Tiger's cage.

Said the Keeper: "Comrades, you must all be very careful, for this is Snake's night."

"Oo-o-oh!" whimpered Jackal, "is Nag the Cobra to come here among us?"

Even Hathi trembled, and blowing softly through his trumpet, said: "Oh, Sa'-zada, I who am a Lord of the Jungle, fearing not any Dweller therein, feel great pains this evening. I am sure that hay is musty and has disagreed with me. If you do not mind, Little Brother, I will go back to my stall and lie down."

"Will Deboia the Climber come also, Little Master?" asked Magh. "If so, I think my Terrier Pup is feeling unwell; I will take him to my cage and wrap him in his blanket. I hate snake stories, anyway."

"Hiz-z-z!" laughed Python, who was already there. "Lords of the Jungle indeed! When I strike or throw a loop, or go swift as the wind through the Jungle – Thches-s-s! but I am no boaster. See our friends. When the smallest of my kind are to be here each one makes his excuses."

"Never fear, Comrades," Sa'-zada assured the frightened animals, "Nag the Cobra, and Karait, and all the others will behave themselves if they are left alone. Only don't move about, that's all. The first law when Snakes are about is – keep still."

"Yes, we like quietness," assented Python. "Once there was a fussy old Buffalo Bull who used to come to my pool and stir up the mud until it was scarce fit to live in. In the end I threw a loop around his neck, and he became one of the quietest Bulls you ever saw in your life."

"Now, Comrades," said Sa'-zada, as he returned accompanied by the Dwellers of the Snake House, "Hamadryad, the King Cobra, has promised us a story."

"Look at my length," cried Hamadryad, drawing his yellow and black mottled body through many intricate knots like a skein of colored silk; "think you I was born this way just as I am? At first – that was up in the Yoma Hills in Burma – I was not much larger than a good-sized hair from Tiger's mustache, and since then it has been nothing but adventure. Even my Mother, where she had us hid in a pile of rocks covered with ferns, had to fight for our lives."

"Phuff!" retorted Boar, disdainfully, "many a nest of Cobra eggs have I rid the world of."

"Not of my kind, I'll warrant," snorted Python, blowing his foul breath like a small sirocco almost in Pig's face. "Of Nag, or Hamadryad's family, perhaps, yes, for, know you, Comrades, what Nagina does with her eggs? Lays them in the sun to hatch apsi (of themselves). But my Mother – ah, you should have seen her, Comrades; all the eggs gathered in a heap, and her great, beautiful body – much like my own in color – wound tenderly about them until the young came forth. Perhaps a matter of two moons and never a bite for her to eat all the time. That's what I call being a genuine Mother."

"Very wise, indeed, and thoughtful," cried the Salt Water Snake. "My Mother – well I remember it – carried her eggs about in her body till they were hatched, which seems to me quite as good a plan. Also, nobody molests us – if they do, they die quickly. We all can kill quite as readily as Nag the Cobra, though there is less talk about us."

"Even so," assented Hamadryad, "the proof of the matter is in being here; and, as I was going to say, it is this way with my people; in the hot weather when there is no rain we burrow in the ground for months at a stretch. And then the rains come on and we are driven out of our holes by the water, and live abroad in the Jungles for a time. It was at this season of the year I speak of; I had just come up out of my burrow and was wondrous hungry, I can tell you; and, traveling, I came across the trail of a Karait. I followed Karait's trail, and found him in a hole under a bungalow of the Men-kind. It was dry under the bungalow, so I rested after my meal in the hole that had been Karait's. It was a good place, so I lived there. Every day a young of the Men-kind – "

"I know," interrupted Mooswa; "a Boy, eh?"

"Perhaps; but the old ones called him 'Baba.' And Baba used to come every day under the bungalow to play. He threw little sticks and stones at me; but nothing to hurt, mind you, for he was small. The things he threw wouldn't have injured a Fly-Lizard as he crawled on the bungalow posts. He laughed when he saw me, and called, as he clapped his little hands, and I wouldn't have hurt him – why should I? I don't eat Babas.

"When I heard the heavy feet of the Men I always slipped in the hole; but, one day, by an evil chance I was to one side looking for food, and Baba was following, when his Mother saw me. Such a row there was, the Men running, and Baba's Mother calling, and only the little one with no fear. Surely it was the fear of which Chita and Hathi have spoken which came over the Men-kind.

"There was one of a great size, like Bear Muskwa, with a stomach such as Magh's. He was a native baboo. He had a black face, and his voice was like the trumpet of Hathi; but when I went straight his way, and rose up to strike, his fat legs made great haste to carry him far away. Then I glided in the hole."

"Ghur-ah! it seems a strange tale," snarled Wolf; "even I would not dare, being alone, to chase one of the Men-kind."

"It may be true," declared Sa'-zada, "for it is written in the Book that Hamadryad is the only Snake that will really chase a man, and show fight."

"I could hear the Men-kind talking and tramping about," continued King Cobra, "and meant to lie still till night, and then go away, for I usually traveled in the dark, you know. But presently there was a soft whistling music calling me to come out; and also at times a pleading voice, though of the Men-kind, I knew that, 'Ho, Bhai (brother), ho, Raj Naga (King Cobra)! come here, quick, Little Brother.' Then the soft whistle called me, sometimes loud, and sometimes low, and even the noise was twisting and swinging in the air just as I might myself.

"Hiz-z-z-za! but I commenced to tremble; and I was full of fear, and I was full of love for the soft sounds, and with my eyes I wished to see it. So I came out of the hole, and there was a Black Man making the soft call from a hollow stick."

"A Snake Charmer with his pipes," exclaimed Sa'-zada.

"I raised up in anger, thinking that he, too, would soon run away; but he pointed with his hand, now this way, from side to side, even as the sweet sound from the hollow stick seemed to twist and curl in the air; and following his hand with my eyes, I commenced to swing as the hand swung.

"'Ho, Little Brother!' he called, 'come here.'

"It was to a basket at his side; for, though I meant not to do it, I glided into it."

"That was the manner of your taking?" asked Chita.

"Better than having one's toes squeezed in an iron trap," declared Jackal.

"Or being beaten by chains," murmured Hathi.

"Yes, the taking was simple enough; but if Baba had not cried, the Men would have killed me, I think."

"And that was how you came to Lower Burma?" asked Sa'-zada.

"Yes," answered Hamadryad, "this man who made music with the hollow stick took me with him, and at every place where there were any of his fellows he brought me forth from the basket, and made me dance to his music. That was what he called it – dance."

"Why didn't you bite him?" queried Rattler, making his tail rattles sing in anger.

"He pulled out my fangs," declared Hamadryad.

"He-he," sneered Magh; "now surely it is a great lie, this wondrous tale of Cobra's, for in his mouth are the very fangs he says the black-faced player of music pulled."

"Most wise Ape," said Hamadryad, ironically, "what your big head, like unto a Jack fruit, does not understand, is a lie, forsooth. Even though my teeth were pulled three times, they would grow again; but you do not know that – therefore it is a lie. Even now, behind these that you see, and perhaps yet may feel if you keep on, are others waiting the time when these may be broken. Was it not Hathi said some wise animal arranged all these things for us?"

"Sa'-zada says it is God," interrupted Hathi.

"This man made me fight with a Mongoos, that those of his kind might laugh."

"What is a Mongoos?" queried Magh.

"Our natural enemy," answered King Cobra, "just as Fleas and other Vermin are yours. But I killed the squeaky little beast with one drive of my head – broke his back. At Ramree a Sahib bought me from the black man."

"That was the Sahib who sent you here, I fancy," suggested Sa'-zada.

"Perhaps. At any rate he seemed fond of Snakes of my kind, for he put me in a box wherein was one of my family. But he should have known more about our manner of life, for he nearly starved us through ignorance of our taste. He puts Rats and Frogs, and Birds and such Vermin as that in, with never so much as a Green-Tree-Snake. The yellow-faced Burmans used to come in front of our cage and touch us up with sticks until my nose was skinned with striking at them and hitting the bars.

"Our getting something to eat was a pure accident. One night this Sahib stepped on a Snake – a young Rock Snake, which had curled up in the path for the warmth of the hot earth. 'Oh, ho!' said the Sahib, bringing this new Snake to our cage, 'you are looking for trouble, little Samp (snake). Let us see how you get on in there,' and he threw him in our box, expecting to see a fight."

"And did he?" queried Magh.

"Hiz-z-z-za! I should say so. My mate and I fought half an hour before we settled who was to eat the visitor."

"You two Comrades fought over it?" asked Mooswa.

"Yes; that is our way. Two Snakes cannot eat one – how else should we settle the question? we were both hungry. Why, one day my mate flew at me, and I could see in his eye that he meant eating me, and in self-defence I was forced to put him out of the way of mischief, but the Sahib pulled us apart.

"But if I hated the Yellow Men who came to my cage, I liked the Mem-Sahib (white lady). I think it was her voice. Hiz-z, hiz-z, hiz-z! It was as soft as the song the man had brought forth from the hollow stick. Sometimes I would hear her voice-song near my box, and it would put me to sleep; only, of course, I had to keep one eye open lest my mate would try to eat me – "

"I had no idea Snakes were so fond of each other," said Magh, maliciously.

"Yes; I think I should have eaten him to have saved that worry. But I must tell you about the Mem-Sahib and the Cook. He was small and so black – a perfect little Pig. One day when the Sahib was away, the Cook became possessed of strange devils."

"Became drunken on his Master's liquor, I suppose," remarked Sa'-zada.

"Perhaps, for he came and took me out of the box, wound me around his shoulders and waist, and went with a clamor of evil sounds, in to my Mem-Sahib."

"Just like a Man," sneered Pardus.

"Even I was ashamed," continued Hamadryad. "My Mem-Sahib cried out with fear, and her eyes were dreadful to look into.

"I glided twice about the Man-devil's neck, and drew each coil tight and tight and tighter, and swung my head forward until I looked into his eyes, and I nodded twice thus," and the King Cobra swayed his vicious black head back and forth with the full suggestiveness of a death thrust, until each one of the animals shivered with fear.

"I think he died of the Man-fear Hathi has spoken of, for I did not strike him – it may be that the coils about his throat were over-tight. But I glided back to my box, and I think the Mem-Sahib knew that I did not wish to even make her afraid."

"Most interesting," declared Sa'-zada. "Is that all, Cobra?"

"Yes; I'm tired. Let Python talk."

The huge Snake uncoiled three yards of his length, slipped it forward as easily, as noiselessly as one blows smoke, shoved his big flat head up over the Keeper's knee, ran his tongue out four times to moisten his lips, and said: "I am also from the East, and I do not like this land. Here my strength is nothing, for I can't eat. A Chicken twice a month – what is that to one of my size? Sa'-zada will eat as much in a day; and yet in my full strength I could crush five such as our Little Brother. Many loops! in my own Jungle I could wind myself about a Buffalo and pull his ribs together until his whole body was like loose earth. I have done it. Sa'-zada knows that for months and months after I came I ate nothing, and in the end they took me out on the floor there, six of them, and shoved food down my throat with a stick.

"Once I had run down a Barking Deer, and swallowed him, and was having a little sleep, when I wandered into the most frightful sort of nightmare. It came to me in my sleep that Bagh had charged me of a sudden, and gripped my throat in his strong jaws. I opened my eyes in fright, and, sure enough, I was being choked with a rope in the hands of the Men-kind. Each end of it was fastened to a long bamboo, and the Men were on either side of me. I made the leaves and dry wood in that part of the Jungle whirl for a little, but it was no use – I couldn't get away. Also a man of the White-kind was sitting on a laid tree, and in his hands was a loud-voiced gun. But I nearly paid him out for some of the insult. They dragged me on to the road, and I lay there quiet and simple-looking. He thought I was asleep, I suppose. At any rate he came up and touched me on the nose with his toe.

"I struck; but, though I knew it not, the rope was tight held by one of the Yellow-kind who stood behind me, and I but got a full choking; though, as I have said, the other, he of the White Face, was stricken with fear.

"They put me in a box, but though I have no appetite here, I could eat there, and they gave me so many chickens that I shed my beautiful skin almost monthly. I nearly died from the over-diet, not being used to such plenty."

"Tell us of your food-winning in the Jungle," craved Sa'-zada.

"Though I go wondrous swift," began Python, "yet if any of the Deer-kind passed me on foot I could not catch them. Because of this I was forced to take great thought to outwit them. You, Gidar, and you, Hathi, know of the elephant creeper that is in all those Jungles, how it runs from tree to tree for many a mile – so strong that it sometimes pulls down the biggest wood-grower. Well, having knowledge of a Deer's path, I would stretch my body across it much after that fashion, and the silly creatures with their ribbed faces, always coughing a hoarse bark, and always possessed of a stupid fear, would walk right into my folds, thinking me a part of the creeper. Once, even, as I think of it, a hunter – of the White-kind he was – ate his food sitting on a coil of my body as I lay twisted about a tree. To tell you the truth, I was asleep, having fed well, and only woke up because of his sticking his cutting knife into my back, thinking, of course, he was standing it in the wood, when I suddenly squirmed and upset him, and his food and drink.

"But when it was the dry season and the leaves were off the trees, the Jungle was so open that even the silly Deer could see the rich color of my beautiful skin, and for days and days I went hungry. Then I would go to the small water ponds, Jheels, and curling my tail about a tree on one side, put myself across, and catching a tree on the other side with my teeth, swing my body back and forth and throw the water all out on the land. Then I would eat all the Fish-dwellers, and go to sleep for a week.

"Once in a land of many pigs, I worked for days and days in that part of the Jungle bending down small trees, and arranging the creepers until I had a keddah with two long sides running far out into the Jungle. Then, going beyond, I made a great noise, rushing up and down, and many of these Dwellers being possessed of fear, fled into the keddah and I devoured them."

Chita sat on his haunches and looked at Python in astonishment, his big black head low hung, and a sneer of great unbelief on his mustached lips.

"Surely this is the one great liar!" he exclaimed. "If these things be not written in the Book, then Python has most surely had such a dream as he has told us of."

"Without doubt it is a lie," declared Magh, "but for my part I am ready to believe anything of his kind. In my Jungle home never once did I climb out on a tree limb without pinching it to see whether it was wood or a vile thing such as yon mottled boaster."

"Are the stories of Python written in the Book, O Sa'-zada?" queried Mooswa.

"No," answered the Keeper, "but Python may have had this strange manner of life."

"Whether they be true tales or false tales," hissed Python, "I am now tired, and they are at an end."

"Well," said Sa'-zada, stroking the glistening scales of the big Snake's head, "it is time to cage up now. Perhaps we'll all have strange dreams to-night."

Soon the animals were sound asleep, all but Magh, who spent an hour chattering to Blitz, her Fox Terrier Pup, on the enormity of telling false tales.