The Taming of the Jungle

by C. W. Doyle

The Hot Wind had abated its fury to little puffs that came at intervals and seemed to sear the skin, and the sun had set like a copper disk in the haze that overhung the western sky. As the hostler brought the mail-cart round, Ram Deen told the Thanadar of Chandni's absence, and received his assurance that immediate search should be made for her.

As they spoke together a little puff of wind came out of the west, laden with the smell of fire. They instinctively turned their faces windwards. The glow of the setting sun, that had but just disappeared, seemed to be returning in the west and illuminated the under surface of a huge black cloud that was growing rapidly in size.

"The jungle through which thou must drive is on fire, Ram Deen, and thou must make haste if thou wouldst take the mail to Lai Kooah to-night."

"But thou must not go to Lai Kooah to-night," said little Biroo, running up to Ram Deen. "Chandni said so ere she went away this morning. I was to tell thee, but I had forgotten till I saw just now the money she gave me for the telling of this to thee;" and opening his hand he showed the men a rupee.

"Therefore must I go, Thanadar ji," said Ram Deen. "Had this little budmash spoken sooner Chandni had been home now, and not on a quest that belongs properly to me. Toba, toba!" he exclaimed, as a tongue of flame shot high into the air, "was ever such fire lit for the purification of the jungle? But I must make haste if I would save Chandni;" and the next minute Ram Deen was speeding towards the Bore bridge. Two miles beyond the bridge they reached the hither end of the fire, which was now being driven furiously by a storm of its own creation towards the road, from which it was distant about half a mile. The hostler leaped to the ground, refusing to go any farther; but the element of danger and the risk to Chandni only stirred Ram Deen's pulses into activity, and he shook the reins and urged his horses into a headlong gallop.

The wild things of the Terai fled in front of the fire and across Ram Deen's path, heedless of the presence of man, who was but a pygmy to the wrath behind them. The roar of the giant fire put a great stress upon the fleeing animals, so that they were as of one kin in the presence of a common danger. A herd of spotted deer, with a leopard in their very midst, dashed across the road in front of the mail-cart. A wild boar came next in headlong fashion. Jackals, hares, nyl-gai followed each other pell-mell, making for the shelter of the bed of the Bore Nuddee, whilst overhead was seen the flight of the feathered denizens of the Terai.

All this confusion and rush but accented the roar of the pursuing fire. When Ram Deen looked back for an instant he saw that it had leapt across the road at a point he had passed but a minute before, and now he knew that he was running for his life.

A quarter of a mile farther on the road turned to the left, thus increasing his chance of reaching the southern limit of the fire, which was travelling due east. By the light of the flames he could see a tall woman sitting on the parapet of a small culvert, about one hundred yards in front of him. On the edge of the jungle beside her was an overturned byli, and from it there came the most appalling screams that could be distinguished even through the din of the fire.

The woman on the culvert saw him as soon as he turned the bend of the road, and forthwith mounted the parapet; and he saw it was Chandni. As the mail-cart swept past her she sprang towards it, and Ram Deen passed an arm round her and drew her on to the seat beside him.

"For the love of God, Chandni, for the love of God!" screamed the woman in the byli as a burning branch fell on it. But the mail-cart sped away, and presently only the roar of the angry fire could be heard.