The Eagle Cliff

by R. M. Ballantyne

“Gun-men had been sent up to the head of the valley to block the way in that direction. The sides were too steep for elephants to climb. Thus we had them, as it were, in a trap, and formed up the khedda in battle array. The catching, or non-combatant elephants, were drawn up in two lines, and the big, fighting elephants were kept in reserve, concealed by bushes. The sides of the valley were crowded with matchlock-men, ready to commence shouting and firing at a given signal, and drive the herd in the direction of the khedda.

“It was a beautiful forenoon when we commenced to move forward. All nature seemed to be waiting in silent expectation of the issue of our hunt, and not a sound was heard, the strictest silence having been enjoined upon all. Rich tropical vegetation hung in graceful lines and festoons from the cliffs on either side, but there was no sign of the gun-men concealed there. The sun was—”

“Oh! bother the sun! Come on wi’ the fight,” exclaimed the impatient Junkie.

“All in good time, my boy. The sun was blazing in my eyes, I was going to say, so, you see, I could not make out the distant view, and therefore, can’t describe it,” (“Glad of it,” murmured the impertinent Junkie); “but I knew that the wild elephants were there, somewhere in the dense jungle. Suddenly a shot was heard at the head of the valley. We afterwards learned that it had been fired over the head of a big tusker elephant that stood under a tree not many yards from the man who fired. Being young, like Junkie, and giddy, it dashed away down the valley, trumpeting wildly; and you have no conception how active and agile these creatures can be, if you have seen only the slow, sluggish things that are in our Zoos at home! So terrible was the sound of this elephant’s approach, that the ranks of the khedda elephants were thrown into some confusion, and the mahowts had difficulty in preventing them from turning tail and running away. Our leader, therefore, ordered the gladiator, Chand Moorut, to the front. Indeed, Chand ordered himself to the front, for no sooner did he hear the challenge of the tusker, than he dashed forward alone to accept it, and his mahowt found it almost impossible to restrain him. Fortunately the jungle helped the mahowt by hiding the tusker from view.

“When the wild elephant caught sight of the line of the khedda, he went at it with a mighty rush, crashing through bush and brake, and overturning small trees like straws, until he got into the dry bed of a stream. There he stopped short, for the colossal Chand Moorut suddenly appeared and charged him. The wild tusker, however, showed the white feather. He could not, indeed, avoid the shock altogether, but, yielding to it, he managed to keep his legs, turned short round, and fled past his big foe. Chand Moorut had no chance with the agile fellow in a race. He was soon left far behind, while the tusker charged onward. The matchlock-men tried in vain to check him. As he approached the line, the khedda elephants fled in all directions. Thrusting aside some, and overturning others that came in his way, he held on his course, amid the din of shouting and rattling of shots, and finally, got clear away!”

“Oh, what a pity!” exclaimed Junkie.

“But that did not matter much,” continued Jackman; “for news was brought in that the herd we had been after were not in that valley at all, but in the next one, and had probably heard nothing of all the row we had been making; so we collected our forces, and went after them.

“Soon we got to the pass leading into the valley, and then, just beyond it, came quite suddenly on a band of somewhere about thirty wild elephants. They were taken quite by surprise, for they were feeding at the time on a level piece of ground of considerable extent. As it was impossible to surround them, away the whole khedda went helter-skelter after them. It was a tremendous sight. The herd had scattered in all directions, so that our khedda was also scattered. Each hunting elephant had two men on its back—one, the nooseman, sitting on its neck, with a strong, thick rope in his hands, on which was a running noose; the other, the driver, who stood erect on the animal’s back, holding on by a loop with one hand, and in the other flourishing an instrument called the mungri, with sharp spikes in it, wherewith to whip the poor animal over the root of his tail; for of course an ordinary whip would have had no more effect than a peacock’s feather, on an elephant’s hide!

“I ordered my mahowt to keep near one of the noosemen, whom I knew to be expert in the use of the giant-lasso. His name was Ramjee. Both Ramjee and his driver were screaming and yelling at the pitch of their voices, and the latter was applying his mungri with tremendous energy. The elephant they were after was a small female. It is always necessary that the chasing elephant should be much heavier than the one chased, else evil results follow, as we soon found. Presently the khedda elephant was alongside. Ramjee lifted the great loop in both hands, and leaned over till he almost touched the wild animal. Frequently this noosing fails from various reasons. For one thing, the wild creatures are often very clever at evading the noose: sometimes they push it away with their trunks; occasionally they step right through it, and now and then get only half through it, so that it forms a sort of tow rope, and the other end of this rope being made fast to the neck of the tame elephant, the wild one drags it along violently, unless the tame one is much heavier than itself. This is exactly what happened to Ramjee. He dropped the noose beautifully over the creature’s head, but before it could be hauled tight—which was accomplished by checking the tame animal—the active creature had got its forelegs through. The loop caught, however, on its hind quarters, and away it went, dragging the tame elephant after it, Ramjee shrieking wildly for help. Two of the other tame elephants, not yet engaged, were sent to his assistance. These easily threw two more nooses over the wild creature, and, after a good run, she was finally exhausted, secured with ropes, and driven back to camp, there to be subjected to coercive treatment until she should become tame.

“Meanwhile, other captures were being made in the field. I was just moving off, after seeing this female secured, when a tremendous shouting attracted me. It was a party chasing a fine young tusker. He was very cunning, and ran about, dodging hither and thither, taking advantage of every tree and bush and inequality, while the mahowts failed again and again to noose him. I made my mahowt drive our animal so as to turn him back. We had no appliances to capture, as I was there only to look on and admire. At last a good throw noosed him, but he slipped through, all except one hind leg. On this the noose luckily held, and in a few minutes we had him secure. Of course, in driving our prisoners to camp, the tame elephants were used to guide them, stir them up, push them on, and restrain or punish them, as the case might require. This was easy with the smaller females and young ones, but it was a very different matter with big males, especially with rogues, as we found out before the close of that day.