The prince laughed and said: “He will get up for a bear then, and not for a prince.” He now ordered the dogs to be loosed: they flew at the bear, who slapped at them and tried to claw them, but they, fixing themselves one to each ear, avoided his paws and kept clear of hugs. There they hung, and the bear sat on his hind-quarters looking most miserable. The prince now ordered my men to let loose a big and very savage watch-dog I had, of no particular breed—one of the big shepherd-dogs of the country.
This dog went immediately for the bear, who was quite powerless, having the other two dogs still on his ears. The force of his rush threw the bear over, the dog seized him by the throat and was proceeding to worry him, when suddenly dogs and bear all rolled into a muddy watercourse. Clouds of mud covered the gay dress of the Prince-Governor, and the dogs were by my order taken off, or they would have killed the bear. The prince presented a piteous figure, green and black from head to foot, for he had been standing close to the struggling animals when they fell in. His two attendants tried to get some of the mud off, but it was no use; good-humouredly laughing at the accident, his Highness mounted his horse and rode off at a gallop, attended by the crowd of mounted followers that awaited him at the garden door outside.
The dogs having been set at the bear was unfortunate, for having tasted the pleasure of bear-baiting, they barked and howled at the mere sight of Bruin. At night all the dogs were loose, but the bear was safe, for he lived in one of the high trees, where he was out of reach, having a chain attached to a rope some ten yards long. One night, however, he came down and the dogs were upon him in an instant; the noise of barking, shouting servants, with hurrying lights and sounds of a struggle, awoke me. I, thinking thieves were in the garden, rushed on the scene with my revolver, too late to save the bear, who had been severely mauled by the dogs, then five in number and all strong and savage. With difficulty they were separated, but they had broken one of the bear’s hind legs, and I was forced to shoot the poor animal in the morning when I found out the nature of his injuries.
CHAPTER XXI.
SHIRAZ WINE-MAKING.
Buy grapes for wine-making—Difficulty in getting them to the house—Wine-jars—Their preparation—Grapes rescued and brought in—Treading the grapes—Fermentation—Plunger-sticks—Varieties of Shiraz wine and their production—Stirring the liquor—Clearing the wine—My share, and its cost—Improvement by bottling—Wasps—Carboys—Covering them—Native manner of packing—Difficulties at custom-house—The Governor’s photographic apparatus—Too many for me—A lūti-pūti.
My friend the Moollah, Hadji Ali Akbar (the priest who had accompanied me in my march), impressed on me the great importance of making my own wine. I pointed out that probably a first brew would turn out badly, but he overruled me.
“The fact is,” said he, “I want to make wine for myself. I can’t do it in my own house, I a Mahommedan priest; and if I get the Jews to make it for me, that is worse, for it will be bad, and I am a connoisseur. If I make it here, sahib, I shall make it good, and kill two birds with one stone: you and I will get good wine, and there will be no scandal.”
After some hesitation I consented. I gave my priestly friend carte blanche to buy grapes for me, and, in fact, left it all to him.
The grapes used for making the real “Cholar” wine are brought from the vineyards, four days’ march off, on camels or mules; they are carefully packed in strong baskets, called lodahs, and are covered with brushwood to keep off the hands of the hungry.