Читать книгу: «The Sa'-Zada Tales», страница 6

"I flew just ahead of them, and cried 'Tee-he-he! Here come the Murderers!' so that every bird in all the jhils about could hear me. And when Bakula, and Kowar the Ibis, and all the others had flown to safety, I shouted, 'Did-you-do-it, did-you-do-it!' Then the Men used language much like the disgraceful talk we have had from Cocky and Myna to-night."

"You carried a heavy responsibility," remarked Sa'-zada.

"All lies," sneered Kauwa. "Fat Bones! why, he can't even sit on the limb of a tree."

"That is because of my feet," sighed Lapwing. "I have no toes behind."

"Where do you sleep?" asked Magh.

"On the ground," answered Lapwing.

"That's so," declared Sa'-zada, "for the Natives of the East say that Titiri sleeps on his back, and holds up the sky with his feet."

"But why should the Men kill Birds for a few feathers?" croaked Vulture. "I don't believe it. Nobody asked me for one of mine. In fact the great trouble of all eating is the feathers or skin."

"Whe-eh-eh!" exclaimed Ostrich, disgustedly. "Pheu! your feathers! Even your head looks like a boiled Lobster. They do not kill me – the Men – but I know they are crazy for feathers, for they pull mine all out. Some day I'll give one of them a kick that will cure him of his feather fancy. I did rake one from beak to feet once with my strong toe nail. When I bring a foot up over my head and down like this – "

As Ostrich swung his leg every one skurried out of the way, for they knew it was like a sword descending.

"Yes," cried Magh, "if you only had a brain the size of that toe-nail – "

"Stop it!" cried Sa'-zada, for this was an unpleasant truth; Ostrich, though such a huge fellow himself, has a brain about the size of a Humming Bird's.

"Talking of Wives," said Ostrich, with the most extraordinary irrelevance, "mine died when I was twenty-seven years old; and, of course, as it is the way with us Birds, I never took up with another, though I've seen the most beautifully feathered ones of our Kind – quite enough to make one's mouth water.

"She had queer ways, to be sure – my wife. As you all know, our way of hatching eggs is turn about, the Mother Birds sitting all day, while we Lords of the Nest sit at night. But my wife would take notions sometimes and not sit at all. In that case I always sat night and day until the job was finished. By-a-sore-breast-bone! but making a nest in the hard-graveled desert is a job to be avoided."

"Sore knuckles!" exclaimed Magh, "where are we at? We were talking of feathers."

"So we were, so we were," decided Mooswa. "And what I want to know is, do the Men eat the feathers they hunt for?"

"Oh, Jungle Dwellers!" exclaimed Magh; "if you were to sit in my cage for half a day you would see what they do with them. The Women come there with their heads covered with all kinds of feathers, red, and green, and blue – Silly! how would I look with my head stuck full of funny old feathers?"

"Like the Devil!" exclaimed Sa'-zada.

"Like a Woman," retorted Magh. "And their hair is so pretty, too. I've seen red hair just like mine, and then to cover it up with a crest of feathers like Cockatoo wears; I'd be ashamed of the thing."

"It's a sin to murder the Birds," whimpered Mooswa; "that's the worst part of it."

"Tonk, tonk, tonk!" came a noise just like a small Boy striking an iron telegraph post with a stick. It was the small Coppersmith Bird clearing his throat. Very funny the green pudgy little chap looked with his big black mustaches.

"The Men are great thieves," he asserted. "When I was a chick my Mother taught me to stick my tail under my wings for fear they would steal the feathers as I slept."

"Steal tail feathers!" screamed Eagle; "I should say they would. Out in the West, where was my home, when a Man becomes a great Chief he sticks three of my tail feathers in his hair; and when the Head Chief of a great Indian tribe rises up to make a big talk, what does he hold in his hand? The things that are bright like water-drops – "

"Diamond rings," exclaimed Sa'-zada, interrupting.

"No; he holds one of my wings to show that he is great."

"Yes, you are the King Bird, Eagle," concurred Sa'-zada, "the emblem of our country."

"I can break a lamb's back with my talons," assented Eagle, ignoring the sublime disdainfully, "but I wouldn't trust my nest within reach of any Man – they're a lot of thieves."

"Nice feathers are a great trouble," asserted Sparrow; "I'm glad I haven't any."

"What difference does it make?" cried Quail; "the Men kill me, and I'm sure I'm not gaudy."

"You're good eating, though," chuckled Gidar the Jackal. "After a day's shoot of the Men-kind, the scent from their cook-house is fair maddening. Oh-h-h, ki-yi! I've had many a Quail bone in my time."

"Even Lapwing can't save us from the Hunters," lamented Quail; "they play us such vile tricks. I've seen a rice field with a dozen bamboos stuck in it, and on top of each bamboo a cage with a tame Cock Quail; and in the center, hidden away, sat a man with a little drum which he tapped with his fingers. And the drum would whistle 'peep, peep, peep,' and the Birds in the cages would go 'peep, peep, peep,' and we Cock Birds of the Jungle, thinking it a challenge to battle, would answer back, 'peep, peep, peep,' and go seeking out these strange Birds who were calling for fight. Of course, our Wives would go with us to see the battle, and in the end all would be snared or shot by the deceitful Men."

"That's almost worse than being taken for one's feathers," said Egret. "I'm glad they don't eat me."

"No Mussulman would eat you, Buff Egret," said Gidar the Jackal. "It's because of your habit of picking ticks off the Pigs."

"Some Birds do have vile habits," declared Crow. "Paddy Bird has a Brother in Burma who gets drunk on the Men's toddy."

"I doubt if that be true," said Sa'-zada, "though he is really called 'Bacchus' in the science books."

Said Myna, "Of all Birds, I think the Jungle Fowl are the worst. The Cocks do nothing but fight, fight, all the time – fight, and then get up in a tree and crow about it, as though it were to their credit."

Said Kauwa the Crow, "When one of our family becomes quarrelsome, or a great nuisance, we hold a meeting – I have seen even a thousand Crows at such meetings – hear all there is to say about him, and then if it appears that he is utterly bad we beat him to death."

"Tub-full-of-bread!" exclaimed Hathi, sleepily, "it's my opinion that all Birds should be on their roosts – it's very late."

"And roost high, too," said Magh, "for Coyote and Gidar have been licking their chops for the last hour. I've watched them. And lock Python up, O Sa'-zada, for high roosts won't save them from him."

"All to bed, all to bed!" cried the Keeper. "To-morrow night we'll have some more tales."

The last cry heard on the sleepy night air after all were safely in their cages was Cockatoo's "Avast there, you lubber!" as Myna, sticking his saucy yellow beak through the bars of his cage, called across to him, "Want a glass of grog, Polly?"

EIGHTH NIGHT
THE STORIES OF BUFFALO AND BISON

This evening the whole Buffalo herd had come out of the park to the meeting-place in front of Chita's cage; even their brother, the Indian Bison, was there, as also was the true Buffalo, Bos Bubalus.

Said Sa'-zada, opening his book: "We should learn much this evening, for Buffalo and Bison are to tell us of their lives. But first, let me put you all right as to their names. Those we have called Buffalo, from our own western prairies, are not Buffalo at all, but Bison, half-brother of Gaur, who also lives in India, where the true Buffalo comes from."

"It does not matter," said Buff, the prairie Bison, "it does not matter what I'm called, seems to me, for all my life I have been most badly treated. Why, it seems no time since I was a calf, one of a mighty herd, on the sweet-grassed prairie, and in those days I thought there was nothing in the world like being a Buffalo.

"The first touch of danger I remember came in this way. The herd had tracked, one after another, all walking in the same narrow path, down to a hollow in which was water. I was feeling frisky, and, seeing something move, something that seemed very like a calf, smaller than myself, I ran after it, cocking my tail, kicking my heels in the air, and thinking it great sport; for, Comrades, the great weakness of all grass-feeders is an idle curiosity."

"And did all this happen when you had your tail kinked in the air, that time you were a silly calf?" jibed Magh, holding a peanut out on her under lip, and looking down at it very sedately, as though the subject were of little interest.

"I'll tell you my story in my own way," declared Buff. "The thing that I followed was like a grey shadow, and slipped about with no noise, but when I came close to it, with a vicious snarl it sprang up, and also there were three others hidden in the grass. Much milk! but I became afraid, and I believe I bawled. Just then I felt the ground tremble, and a dozen of the herd galloped towards me with their heads down. It was a wolf, and help came just in time, for the big fangs of the fierce brute cut my hind leg a little where he sought to hamstring me.

"Then Mother explained, first bunting me soundly with her forehead, then licking me with her coarse tongue, that these Wolves were always following up the Herd, trying to catch a Calf, or sick Cow, or old Bull, to one side."

"We have Wolves in India, too," said Arna, "and Chita the Leopard, and Bagh the Tiger. Blood drinkers! but we have many enemies there; even Cobra will hardly get out of the way seeking to carry to one's blood his sudden death. There are no animals so ill used, I believe, as Buffalo.

"One has need of big Horns in the heart of the Jungle. Why, mine measure nine feet and a half from tip to tip across my forehead. And see the strength of them, fully the size of Bagh's leg – for I am a Curly Horn, which means one of great strength. Never have I locked Horns with a Bull that I have not twisted his neck till he bellowed. Eugh-hu, eugh! Next to lying in muddy water with one's nose just peeping out, there's nothing so pleasant as a trial of strength. And with all respect to Hathi's handiness of trunk, I must say I prefer good, stout Horns. When Bagh or Pardus come sneaking about, there's nothing like a long reach.

"Hear that, friends," said Magh. "Here's a traveler from Panther's own land calls him a sneak. He, he he! now we shall get at the truth."

"Yes," said Gaur, the Bison; "Panther and all his tribe are sneaks. They murdered a Calf of mine. To be sure, it was the Wife's Calf, for had I been there at the time I'd have fixed him. She had just lain down to rest for the night, and the Calf was a little to one side, and this evil-spotted thing, Panther of the Red Kind, came sneaking up the wind like a proper Jungle Cat. He knew I was away, for he has the cunning of Cobra, and how was the mother to know that any danger threatened? He stole like a shadow close to the poor little Calf, and with a rush jumped on his back and bit his neck, breaking it, and cutting it so the red blood ran his life all out in a little while."

"I was born in Mardian," remarked Arna, the Buffalo, "many years ago; and save for the loss of a Calf, through Chita or Bagh's treachery, or perhaps a lone Cow at times, our herd feared no Dweller of the Jungles. Mine is a big family," he ruminated, "for we wander over almost all India and Burma. Before I had grown up our Bull leader had taught us all the method of battle. When it was Bagh, we formed up, heads out, with the Calves behind, and if we but saw him in time, he surely was slain, if he sought strongly for a Kill.

"I learned all the different sounds that come far ahead of danger. One's ears get wondrous sharp in the Jungle, I can tell you, where the little Gonds hunt. If a stone went singing down the hillside, that meant Men, and Men meant the worst kind of danger. No Animal starts a stone rolling; we are too careful for that.

"Also do the Jungle Dwellers not break sticks as they travel. The crack of a broken twig meant Men Hunters; and when a beat was on, the Jungle was, indeed, possessed of great sounds. All the Dwellers ran mad with fear – the fear-madness that is like unto the way of Baola Kutta, the Mad Dog. There is nothing so terrible in the life of an Animal as the drive of the Hunters. 'Tap, tap, tap,' like the knocking of Horns together, meant the strike of Beaters against the trees, and then the Men's voices crying, 'Aree ho teri.'

"I, who tremble not at the roar of a Tiger, shivered when I heard that, and lost all knowledge of which way I should run – that was in the first drive, of course, before I became possessed of much Jungle wisdom. Surely it drove us all mad. Like the sound of rain falling on leaves was the rush of Python's little feet as even he flew from the Man-danger.

"Our best food was down in the jhils, also the nice soft mud to lie in, and in the early spring, after the fires had passed, the young bamboo shot up and we ate them. Then when we took it into our heads, we went up into the deep, cool sal forest and rested in peace. But in the Dry Time was the time of danger, for we had to travel far to find water. We are not like Antelope or Nilgai, who go without water for days and days.

"I remember once when we had crept down out of the hills, leaving the big sal trees behind, and passing through tamarind, and mango, and pipal, and just as we were coming to the pool, which was almost hidden in the jamin bushes, I heard a roar – there was a rush and a Bagh of ferocious strength sprang on one of our Cows and sought to break her neck.

"But worse than Bagh's cruel charge was the silent method of the little, dark Men-kind – the Mariahs. Like Magh's people, they would sit quiet in the trees, and as we came slowly back from the water would shoot arrows into us. Of this we could have no warning, neither any chance to fight for our lives, only the noise of the arrow coming like the hiss of King Cobra, and the cruel sting of its sharp end. Our Bull leader got one this way not strong enough to bring him to his death, and for days and days it stayed in his side, and made him of such a vile temper that the Herd had to cast him forth, and he became what is known as a Solitary Bull.

"There is some kindness in Bagh's method, more than in the way of these evil Men, for when he kills he kills, and there is no more sickness; but of the Men, when they hunt us with their arrows or a thunder-stick which strikes with a loud noise, many of our kind are struck and die at the end of much time.

"Strong as the fire-stick is – "

"Arna means by the fire-stick a gun," explained Sa'-zada.

"Strong as it is," continued Arna, "we Buffalo are also of great strength. Why, the skin on my neck and withers would stop its strike any time."

"Stop the Bullet?" queried Sa'-zada.

"Yes," asserted the Bull. "I have at least three buried in the thick skin of my neck, and I hardly know they are there. Why, it has been known in my Herd for a Bull to be struck fifteen times by one of these fire-sticks, and then the Men did not get him. But just behind the shoulders we are weak. My mother taught me a trick of this sort – 'Never stand sideways to an enemy,' she told me. Yes, though it is good to be of great strength, a little wisdom is also of much use, even to a Buffalo."

"It was so with us," concurred Prairie Bison. "From all the other animals we suffered little compared with the misery that came from the Men – the Redmen; and worse still were the Palefaces; it was, as you say, Brother, all because of the fire-stick."

"Even I was struck by it," continued Arna; "it was this way. Early one morning I had gone down to a jhil, being alone at that time of the year, for our wives were busy with the Calves, and, as I was going to the uplands, to a favorite nulla of mine, in which to rest, suddenly I caught sight of an evil-faced Gond; these same Gonds being of all Shikaris (hunters) the most strong in their thirst for blood. I rushed away for the hills, thinking to leave him behind. I traveled far, and thought to myself, now surely I have lost this small killer. Being hungry, I fed on the rich grass, but, as I fed, suddenly a dry twig broke in the Jungle, and I knew that it was either Hathi or the little Gond. Looking back, I saw with the Shikari another of a white face. Again I galloped, and trotted, and walked, up a long nulla, over a hill, around by the side of it, turned, and went far back, much the way I had come, only to one side. Then I sought the top of a hill where the bamboos grew thick, thinking to hide. As I rested, an evil smell, that was not of the Jungle, came to me as the wind turned in its course and blew up the hill. I stood perfectly still, even ceased to flap my ears against the wicked Flies. As I watched, suddenly this Man of the white face stood up from the grass just the shortest of gallops away, his thunder-stick roared, and something I could not see struck me most viciously in the shoulder. I was mad. Lashing my hips with my tail, and throwing my nose straight out, I charged him.

"Again his thunder-stick spoke loud, but there was no sting – nothing, and he turned from me and ran down the hill. Just as I was almost upon him, he looked back, his foot caught in a bush and he fell. Now, as I have said, my big Horns are of great use when Bagh charges, or when another Bull disputes the right to command the Herd, but as for the small enemy lying on the ground, I could not get at him at all; besides, I was rushing down hill at great speed, so, though I lowered my head till my forehead almost crushed him into the earth, yet I had him not on the Horns, as, carried by my weight, I was forced to the very bottom. Before I could turn he was up and away, and I never saw him again."

"We are also killed by the Men," added Muskwa, the Bear. "They take off our black coats, and I thought, perhaps, that was lest we might come to life again. Yes, I think they mean to kill all Animals."

"They have killed nearly all my people," sighed Prairie Cow – "nearly all of them. I know that is true, for one day Sa'-zada came into our corral, and, rubbing his nice soft hand on my forehead – I was sick that day, I remember – said, 'Poor old girl! we must take care of you, for there are not many of your sort left now.' Then he said it was a shame that the brutes had slaughtered us so."

"Ghurr-ah!" barked Wolf, "tell of this thing, O Buffalo Cow, for to me it has been much of a mystery where the many of your kind could have gone."

"Lu-ah!" sighed Prairie Cow, "it makes me sad to even think of it. As I have said, in my young life we were many, many in numbers like you have seen our enemies, the Men, here at times. All through the long, warm days of sun, we ate the grass that grew again as fast as we cropped it. Our humps became big and full of rich fat for the cold time. Not that I had the hump on my back as a Calf, not needing it as food, for my mother's milk kept my stomach at peace when the winds were cold, and the grass perhaps under a white cover. Sometimes when the days were harsh we had to travel far in search of feed grass, but that was nothing: few of us died because of this. Even when the Red-faced ones sought us, they killed but few, for their hunger was soon stayed. But suddenly there came to us a time of much fear. Wherever we went we were chased by the Palefaces, and their fire-sticks were forever driving the fire that kills into our faces. Our Bull leader was always taking us farther and farther away, and our Herd was getting smaller and smaller. It was a miserable life, for there was never any rest.

"At last our Bull said that we must go on a long trail, for the prairie wind was talking of nothing but danger; so we trailed far to the south. For days and days we passed across hot sand deserts in which there was little grass and hardly any drinking. It was terrible. My hump melted to nothing; we were all like that, worse than we had ever been after the coldest time of little sun.

"Then we came to a land in which there was grass and water, and none of the Men-kind; and once more we were content, only for thinking of our friends that had been killed. I don't remember how long we were there – I think I had raised two Calves, when one day the evil that comes of the Men was once more with us – "

"Yes, it is even as I have said," interrupted Arna; "when one thinks he has got away safely, and stops for a little rest, he will see that evil Gond, or some other of the Men-kind, waiting to do him harm."

"Just so," commented Prairie Cow; "the Palefaces had found us out. But I must say there was less use of the fire-sticks than before, and I soon came to know why they had trailed us across the Texas desert – they had come to steal our Calves. Never were any poor Animals so troubled by Man's evil ways as were we Buffalo. At first I thought they had not fire-sticks with them, and meant to kill and eat the Calves, they being less able to fight. I remember the very day my Calf was taken. As the Herd fed in a little valley, we saw three Wild Horses coming toward us – we thought they were Wild Horses, but it was an evil trick of the Palefaces, for beside each Horse walked one of the Men. They were down wind from us, so we did not discover this. Suddenly our Herd leader – he was a great Bull, too – gave a grunt of warning – much like Bear grunts, only louder; but still we could see nothing to put fear into our hearts. Then our leader commenced to throw sand up against his sides with his forefeet, and, lowering his head, shook it savagely. 'Why does he wish to battle?' I wondered, for the Wild Horses had never made trouble for my people.

"Just then the Men jumped on their animals, and away we raced. I remember as I ran wondering why there was no loud bark of the fire-stick, for I could see the Hunters galloping fast after us; in fact one of them was close at my heels, for my youngest Calf, not two months old, could not run as swiftly as I wished. I was keeping him close; and on my other side galloped my Calf that was a year old.

"Suddenly I heard a 'swisp' in the air, and my little curly-haired pet gave a choking gasp and fell in the grass. Of course, I could not stop at once, and he bawled much as I did when the Wolf was at my hock. When I turned in great haste I saw the Paleface on top of him. I was just crazy with rage. I charged full at the Man and his Horse, and it almost makes me laugh now to think how I kept him jumping about. He did use a small firestick on me, but I am sure it was because of the Man-fear, of which Hathi told us; I saw it in his eyes plain enough. But who can stand against the fire-stick? Not even Bagh or Hathi, as we know, so I was forced to flee with the Herd.

"We galloped far, far, before we stopped; and that night there were many mothers in the Herd bawling and crying for their lost Calves, for these evil Men had stolen a great number. I felt so sad thinking of my little one's trouble that I could stand it no longer, so I went back on our trail, and, following up the scene of the Men-kind, came to where they had my Calf and the others. It was night. I soon found him, for a Cow Mother's nose is most wise when looking for her young. But I could not get him away with me, for he was held fast by something; so I stayed there and let him drink of my milk.

"Even with the fear of a fire-stick on me I stayed with him, and in the morning when the Pale-faces saw me their eyes were full of much wonder. But I did not try to run away, and one of them, making many motions and noises to the other two, I think, commanded them not to harm me. Well, good Comrades," sighed the Cow, regretfully, "mine has been a very long story, I'm afraid, but when one talks of her Babe there is so much to be said."

"And did they bring you here with the Calf?" asked Magh.

"Most surely," answered Prairie Cow; "and because of my milk he grew big and strong, much faster than grew the other Calves, and is now big Bull of the Herd."

"But how fared the others with no mothers?" asked Chita.

"They gave them Cow mothers of the tame kind," answered the Cow.

Said Arna, scratching his back with the point of his long horn: "It is not quite this way with us in India. We stick pretty well to the jhils and Jungles, so the Men cannot kill many of us at one time; but still we are becoming fewer. Even those of the black kind now have the thunder-stick, and kill my comrades to sell their heads to the horn merchants. Think of that, Brothers, having a price on one's head, like a Bhil robber."

Said Sa'-zada: "I wish all the Men who slay Animals, calling it sport, might have sat here to-night with us, that their hearts might be inclined more kindly toward you, Brothers, who war not against my kind."

"Sa'-zada," cried Hathi, in a gentle voice, "could you not put all these things in a new book, and lend it to each one of your people so that they might know of these true things? Surely then they would not seek for the life of each one of us that has done them no harm."

"I have a notion to try it, good Comrade," said the Keeper. "But in the meantime it is late, and now you must all go back to your corrals and cages."

"Good-night, Prairie Cow," trumpeted Hathi, softly, caressing her forehead with his trunk; "your people most certainly have been badly treated by the Men."

Soon silence reigned over the home of these outcasts from the different quarters of the world.