Drawn by M. Catenacci, from a sketch by M. Mouhot.
SCENE IN THE JUNGLE BETWEEN BATTAMBONG AND BANGKOK.
TIGER HUNTING.
The tiger of Annam is terribly savage, and his strength is equal to his ferocity. Often, however, a couple of men will go alone to attack one, armed merely with pikes. As soon as they see the animal, the more powerful or more courageous of the two lowers his pike; the tiger hesitates a moment, and sometimes, if not pressed by hunger, turns and disappears with the rapidity of lightning; but at other times he will make a spring at the hunter, when, if the force of the leap do not carry him right over the man’s head, he falls upon the pike, which the hunter then elevates by pressing the handle on the ground. The second hunter now comes forward, and in his turn pierces him, and uniting their strength, they both hold him down till he dies. Occasionally the first man misses his aim, and his pike breaks; then all is over for one, if not both. The most common method of hunting the tiger has more actors engaged. There is in every village some experienced man who leads the attack; and if any one has been carried off by one of these animals, the tam-tam is sounded to summon people from the neighbouring villages to follow this leader after the creature. As he always sleeps near the spot where he has left the remains of his repast, they are pretty sure of discovering his retreat.
When they have tracked the tiger to his lair, all the hunters form a circle as large as their number will allow, and sufficiently apart not to impede each other’s movements. These preparations completed, the leader makes sure that the animal has no outlet for escape. Some of the most daring then venture into the centre and cut away the brushwood, during which operation they are protected by others armed with pikes. The tiger, pressed on all sides, rolls his eyes, licks his paws in a convulsive manner, as though preparing for combat, then, with a frightful howl, he makes his spring. Immediately every pike is raised, and the animal falls pierced through and through. Accidents not infrequently happen, and many are often severely hurt; but they have no choice but to wage war against the tigers, which leave them no rest, force the enclosures, and carry off domestic animals and even men, not only from the roads and close vicinity of the houses, but from the interiors of the buildings. In Annam, the fear inspired by the tigers, elephants, and other wild animals, makes the people address them with the greatest respect; they give them the title of “Grandfather” or “Lord,” fearing that they may be offended, and show resentment by attacking them.
CLIMATE.
During the three months I passed in Brelum and its environs, my two poor servants were almost constantly ill with fever. I think myself very fortunate to have preserved my health, for even in these forests I have not had a touch of this complaint. In the rainy season the atmosphere is dreadfully damp and oppressive; in the thickest wood, where the sun scarcely penetrates, you might fancy yourself in a stove, and with the slightest exercise you are in a bath of perspiration.
In July and August we experienced violent storms, which burst out every second or third day; but in September and October it rained without intermission. At the beginning of November, after a change of wind, we had some refreshing nights, which made the thermometer fall to 12° centigrade. From noon to three o’clock there was little variation in the temperature.
Having paid visits to all the villages in the neighbourhood, and been visited in return by many of the inhabitants, I announced to my two excellent friends the missionaries that I must shortly leave them, and fixed my departure for the 29th November, meaning to return to Pinhalú and Udong, and from thence to ascend the Mekon as far as the great lake Touli-Sap.