The Taming of the Jungle

by C. W. Doyle

CHAPTER XVI

The Smoking of a Hornets' Nest

"The 'big rains' will begin to-night," said the bunnia at Lal Kooah, as Ram Deen took his seat on the mail-cart.

"And there will be much lightning and thunder," added one of the by-standers, "the night is so still."

The sky was inky, and the Terai awaited the coming storm in a breathless silence which was only emphasized by the parting blasts of Ram Deen's bugle. The horses had their ears twitched forward apprehensively, and started, every now and then, at the objects revealed by the light of the lamps. A mile or so beyond Lal Kooah a few heavy drops of rain pattered on the broad leaves of the overarching huldoos. Suddenly the sky was rent by a streak of lightning,—the avant courier of the mighty monsoon,—and it was immediately followed by the terrific thunder that bayed at its heels.

In the intensified silence that ensued Ram Deen blew his bugle to reassure the frightened horses. He had barely ceased when there came the sharp crack of a pistol-shot, and a far cry, "Ram dhwy! ram dhwy! Aho! Ram Deen, aho!"

"Tis the voice of Goor Dutt," said the hostler, "and he looketh on fear."

Ram Deen urged his team into a flying gallop as the storm struck the jungle and woke its mighty voices. Wind and rain, and trees with leafless branches for stringed instruments, made an elemental orchestra that discoursed cataclysmic music.

Whilst the thunder crackled and crashed overhead to the steady and sullen roar of the rain the horses came to a sudden stand-still. In the feeble lamplight Ram Deen discerned a man lying in the middle of the road. Taking one of the lamps, he held it to his face. It was Goor Dutt, the little bullock driver. He was unconscious, and had a deep wound on his head from which the blood was still welling.

Hanging on a wild plum-tree that grew on the edge of the road was a bloodstained turban that fluttered in the storm. Tying it securely to the branch whence it hung, Ram Deen placed the unconscious bullock driver at the bottom of the mail-cart, the hostler supporting his head.