THE TIGER'S LAST HOME.
The tiger was a fine young male in splendid condition, and measured nine and a half feet from nose to tip of tail. After photographing it, we brought the elephants in turn up to it as it lay on the ground and encouraged them to smell and strike it. This is done to show them that the animal is not a foe to be dreaded. We all had to help in lifting the limp body on to Khartoum's back; for a well-grown tiger weighs nearly three hundred and fifty pounds. It was fastened on to the pad with ropes; and we started back in triumphal procession to Alipur Duar, where the beast was flayed and the flesh scrambled for by the women of the neighbourhood, who gathered like vultures. The skin was pegged out on the grass to dry, before being sent to a taxidermist to be dressed and mounted to adorn my bungalow.
CHAPTER IX
A FOREST MARCH
Reasons for showing the flag—Soldierless Bengal—Planning the march—Difficulties of transport—The first day's march—Sepoys in the jungle—The water-creeper—The commander loses his men—The bivouac at Rajabhatkawa—Alipur Duar—A small Indian Station—Long-delayed pay—The Sub-divisional Officer—A dâk bungalow—The sub-judge—Brahmin pharisees—The nautch—A dusty march—Santals—A mission settlement—Crossing a river—Rafts—A bivouac in a tea garden—A dinner-party in an 80-lb. tent—Bears at night—A daring tiger—Chasing a tiger on elephants—In the forest again—A fickle river—A strange animal—The Maharajah of Cooch Behar's experiment—A scare and a disappointment—Across the Raidak—A woman killed by a bear—A planters' club—Hospitality in the jungle—The zareba—Impromptu sports—The Alarm Stakes—The raft race—Hathipota—Jainti.
There is a tale told of the Indian Army in the good old days when soldiering in peace time was an easy life and very different to what it has now become. The story runs that a general order was published to the effect that "Officers are forbidden to drill the men from the verandas of their bungalows." For it was said that, attired in pyjamas, they lounged comfortably in long chairs and shouted out the words of command to their companies drilling on the parade ground in front of the bungalows. But those delightful days have gone for ever. Despite what democratic orators say, the British Army has become a professional one; and soldiering in it is a strenuous existence. In India only the Rains, when outdoor work is almost impossible, give rest to the hard-worked officer and man. Musketry, field firing, company training, both winter and summer, keep them fully employed until battalion training leads up to the culminating point of the year—the brigade or divisional manœuvres, or both. And then it begins all over again. And this, mark you, in a tropical climate!
Up to the rank of Colonel every officer must pass difficult examinations for promotion to each successive grade. And generals and colonels sit on the benches of class-rooms in the Schools of Musketry, and in their own commands lecture, or listen to other officers lecturing, on military subjects.
In the good old days I could have sat in my bungalow in Buxa Duar and watched my sepoys drilling in the narrow limits of our small parade ground. But nowadays too high a standard of efficiency is required from the troops for this method of commanding to pass muster. So, for the first month after our arrival, we scrambled up and down the steep mountains, scaled precipices and fought our way through thorny jungle practising hill warfare. Then I determined to take the detachment farther afield, where the men could have more varied ground to work over and learn something of jungle life. So I mapped out a ten days' march, under war conditions, through the forest below. We should go out as a self-contained force, like the little columns that are sent against the savage tribes along our North-East Frontier. We should carry our own supplies with us, find our own transport, move by day and bivouac at night exactly as we should do in an enemy's country. As the route selected would emerge into open country for a couple of days, the men would have a change from jungle work.