CHAPTER IV.
NATURAL HISTORY AND SPORT.
After the numerous books that have been written on Sport in India, a chapter on this subject might at first sight seem superfluous. So might, at first sight, another novel full of what has been written thousands of times before about love. And yet we never tire of hearing or reading of either, and naturally, for both appeal to the imagination, and carry the mind far away from business or carking cares, or, in other words, that proverbial smoky chimney with which every house is provided. And if the mere reading of love or sport makes men and women feel better because it takes them away from themselves (we should have no mirrors in our rooms), what must the reality of either be? For both dart through the system with electric and delight-yielding force, and produce effects which, to those who have not experienced them, are wellnigh incredible. And, as regards big game shooting in particular, the effects are so astonishing that one almost ceases to believe in them till another experience proves over again that sport, or even the prospect of sport, can effect miracles, or at least that it can cause an alteration in the system through the action of the mind. And, some eighteen months ago, I realized this most vividly when feeling much out of sorts, and indeed unfit for anything. For just at the time of my deepest depression, news came in that a tiger had killed two cattle in my plantation, and, what made the news much more acceptable, two trespassing cattle—animals which are the plague of a planter's life. The news acted like a charm. I at once felt slightly better, better still when I arrived at the spot and saw the traces of the cattle having been dragged along the ground, and the bodies of the slain—one more than half eaten and the other untouched—and almost well when I returned to the bungalow to make preparations for hunting up the tiger. There is no tonic half so good as news of a tiger, and I feel that even news of a bear would rival in a great many cases all that a doctor could do for me. But, though tiger shooting is a valuable and delightful sport, it is equalled if not eclipsed by stalking on the mountains amidst the beautiful and splendid scenery of the Western Ghauts, when you traverse the forest-margined open lands rifle in hand, feeling that everything depends upon yourself, and followed by a tried and experienced shikari on whose keen sight and coolness you can thoroughly rely. There are natives of course and natives, just as there are Europeans and Europeans, but there are natives who have been gifted with the greatest daring, coolness, and the promptest presence of mind, and who are capable of much personal devotion to those who know how to treat them. I was fortunate enough to have one of these in my service, and to no sporting scenes in life can I look back with greater pleasure than when I was able, with my trusted native follower, to spend delightful mornings and evenings, and at certain times whole days, in stalking bears, bison, and sambur in the Western Mysore mountains. Danger, too, there was at times, and quite sufficient to give a pleasing amount of adventurous feeling to the sport. Indeed, without this moderate degree of danger the sport would have been of quite a different kind, for is it not evident that all sport is to be divided into two widely different classes—sport in which you are liable to be attacked, and sport where the attack is all on one side? It is, in short, the danger, or the possibility of danger, which is the vital elixir of big game shooting, and which gives one, too, an opportunity of knowing oneself, and gauging one's presence of mind, or the want of it, as the case may be. But what, after all, is the amount of danger? That depends very much on the experience of the sportsman. You may make big game shooting as dangerous as you please, and by following up a wounded bear or bison in a careless manner meet with an accident, but if proper precautions are taken, the danger of following up these animals is by no means so great as is generally supposed. But, though that is so as regards bears and bisons, I must caution the reader against supposing that there is not considerable risk in following up wounded tigers on foot, and there can be no doubt that, as Sir Samuel Baker says, following a wounded tiger into the jungle on foot is a work of extreme danger. But even this may be largely diminished if proper precautions are taken, though it must be admitted that, from the great difficulty of distinguishing a tiger lying amongst dried forest leaves, there must be a considerable amount of risk, though the amount of it is rather difficult to determine, but I may mention that though I suppose upwards of forty tigers have been killed in the neighbourhood of my plantation, only two natives have been killed when out shooting. Besides these accidents, one man recovered from thirteen lacerated wounds, and another was deprived of his ear and cheek by the blow of a wounded tiger's paw. As regards the comparative risks to life of tigers, bears, and panthers, I have only been able to meet with one return which throws any light on the subject—a return which confirms the native view as to the bear being more dangerous than the tiger, and the panther much less dangerous than either. The return in question is to be found in the "North Kanara Gazetteer," and was supplied by the late Colonel W. Peyton, who wrote the section on Wild Animals. From this it appears that in North Kanara, during the twenty-two years ending 1877, 510 tigers were killed and 44 persons killed by them, one of whom was Lieutenant Power, of the 35th Madras Infantry. Between the years 1856 and 1882 51 bears were killed and 22 persons killed by them, one of whom was Lord Edward Percy St. Maur, second son of the Duke of Somerset. Between the years 1856 and 1877 805 panthers were killed and 22 persons killed by them. From these returns it would appear that the bear is about four times as dangerous as the tiger, that the tiger is about three times as dangerous as the panther, and that the bear is about fourteen times as dangerous to man as the panther. As regards comparative destructiveness to animal life, I may observe in passing that the tiger seems to be more troublesome than the panther, and that Colonel Peyton records between 1878 and 1882 4,041 deaths of cattle killed by tigers against 1,617 killed by panthers. The bison (gavœus gaurus) would appear to be very seldom dangerous to man, if I may judge by the fact that in his long experience Colonel Peyton does not record a single death from the gaur, though he observes that it frequently charges when attacked. In my part of Mysore I have heard of but one death, which occurred in the case of a native who was tracking a bull which had been wounded by one of my managers. The wild boars, I may here add, seem to be now, from being much hunted, no doubt, more dangerous than they were in former years. Within the last two years in my district five persons were severely wounded by them, of whom three died. But it is natural that all wild animals should become more dangerous the more they are hunted, and, rather to my amusement, my old shikari, to whom I have previously alluded, complained in a querulous and aggrieved tone that every animal—even the sambur deer—seemed to charge one nowadays. And this is a fact worth recording, and if wild animals are declining in numbers, it is some comfort to think that the sport to be had from the remainder will improve. But it is time to close these rather desultory remarks, and treat the subject in a systematic manner, and I now proceed to say (1) something as regards the natural history of Mysore, and (2) something as to the big game shooting of the Province. I may here mention that all the anecdotes given will either be interesting from a natural history point of view, or told with the view of illustrating points likely to be of use to the inexperienced sportsman.
As the author of the Gazetteer of the Province, in his opening sentence on the fauna of Mysore, says with much truth, that "Nothing less than a separate treatise, and that a voluminous one, could do justice to the marvellous wealth of the animal kingdom in a province under the tropics marked by so many varied natural features as Mysore," I need hardly say that I have only space to make a cursory allusion to the subject. The varieties of animals, reptiles, birds, fish, and insects are indeed very numerous, and though Mr. Rice informs us that he has only made an attempt to collect the names of the main representatives, he enumerates no less than 70 mammals, 332 birds, 35 reptiles, 42 fishes, and 49 insects, though only the leading families of the last are given, and many kinds of fish have not been identified. But, though I cannot, as I have said, go at any length into the subject, I can at least, give the names of the animals and birds which are of more or less interest to sportsmen, and perhaps touch upon some which are mainly of interest to the naturalist. There are then to be found in Mysore, elephants, tigers, panthers, hunting leopards, bears, wolves, jungle-dogs, hyenas, and foxes. Amongst the graminivorous animals I may mention the gavœus gaurus, commonly called bison (a name to which I shall adhere as it is the one in common use), the sambur deer, the spotted deer, the hog deer, and the barking deer or jungle sheep. There are four kinds of antelopes, the nilgei, four-horned antelope, the antelope, and the gazelle. Of the birds, I may mention 12 varieties of pigeons, 2 of sandgrouse, 2 of partridges, 8 of quail, peafowl, jungle-fowl, spenfowl, bustard, floriken (a kind of bustard), woodcock, woodsnipe, common snipe, jacksnipe, painted snipe, widgeon, 4 kinds of teal, and 5 of wild ducks. I may mention that there are 9 kinds of eagles, 20 kinds of hawks, and 13 varieties of owls. As regards reptiles, crocodiles are the only ones that sportsmen take any interest in, and they are to be found in many of the rivers of Mysore. Fish of various kinds are to be found in the numerous large tanks in Mysore, though I may add, that some of these pieces of water would elsewhere be called lakes, as they are sometimes upwards of twelve miles in circumference. The well-known mahseer abounds in the rivers of the Western Ghauts of Mysore, and gives excellent sport, and in the opinion of some anglers, superior to salmon fishing. I have said in my first chapter on coffee, that the life of a planter to any one fond of nature and an open air life is an agreeable one, so agreeable that, though from accidents of fortune no longer dependent on coffee, I still find it the most pleasant life in the world, and return to it annually with pleasure, and I think that the mere enumeration of the varied forms of animal life, which are so interesting both to the sportsman and the naturalist, will go far to justify my conclusions. Having thus glanced at a part of the fauna of the province, I now proceed to the big game shooting section of my chapter, but, before doing so, I may mention that it is stated in the "Mysore Gazetteer" (Vol. II., p. 13) that, according to old legends, the lion was once to be found in the Province.
Of elephants, and elephant shooting, I have had no experience. In Mysore and in British India they are reserved by the State which, from time to time, captures the elephants by driving them into large inclosures, and there is a record of one of the sales of captured elephants in my second chapter. But the reader need not regret my want of experience here, as it would be difficult for any one to add to the admirable and exhaustive account of elephants and their ways which is to be found in the late Mr. Sanderson's[[15]] admirable work. His death is really much to be lamented, for he was not merely a destructive sportsman, but an intelligent and sympathetic observer of the wild animals he lived amongst, and I think I am only repeating current opinion when I say that a more admirable and interesting work of its kind never was written. Mr. Sanderson, I may mention, was specially employed by Government to superintend the capture of herds of elephants, and also to hunt man-eating tigers, and tigers of obnoxious character.
Tigers, as to which I shall have, I am afraid, rather too long an account to give, are fairly numerous in the forests of the Western Ghauts, and some other parts of the country, if I may judge by the fact that rewards were paid for 68 in 1874, and for 100 in 1875, but in former times they were much more numerous in certain parts of the province, a fact which is testified to by General Dobbs, who when a young man was in civil employ in the Chittledroog division of Mysore in 1834. He mentions in his "Reminiscences of Life in Mysore"[[16]] that his division was infested with wild beasts and, to reduce their numbers, he obtained from one of the officials a plan of a pit 12 feet long, 12 feet deep, and 2½ feet wide, closed with brushwood at both sides and one end. Wooden spikes were fixed at the bottom, and the top of the pit was covered over with light brushwood. A sheep or goat was then tied inside at the closed end, where there was standing place left for it. As tigers usually spring on their prey they are thus sure to fall through the light brushwood into the pit. "In a short time," writes the general, "48 royal tigers were thus destroyed, four of which were brought to me on one morning. Mr. Stokes, the superintendent of the Nuggur division, obtained from me the plan of these pits, and in an equally short time caught upwards of 70 tigers. Now comes a circumstance which I can vouch for, but cannot explain. In a short time the success in both divisions terminated, and never again did a tiger fall into one of these pits, though numbers of tigers continued to infest the country." One result of the success obtained is worth recording. The balance of nature had been destroyed; the tigers to a great extent lived on wild pigs, and these, after the destruction of the tigers, multiplied so rapidly that the general records that there was an increased destruction of extensive sugar plantations. And I may note in passing, that the balance of nature may equally be destroyed from the other end of the line, and tigers made much more destructive than they otherwise would be. This is remarkably so near the western passes of Mysore, for never were tigers more numerous or destructive than they have recently been in my neighbourhood, and this is clearly to be traced to the great destruction[[17]] of deer, pigs, and bison by the natives in the immediate vicinity of the great forests, a subject to which I shall afterwards have occasion to allude.
The sudden spread amongst the tigers of the news about these pits is really very remarkable. We know that animals and birds are taught by example and experience to avoid certain dangers—that birds, which are at first killed in considerable numbers by telegraph wires, gradually learn to avoid them, and that hares which are at first excluded by rabbit netting in the course of time take to jumping it, but it is certainly impossible to explain by anything we know as regards the spread of experience amongst animals as to how the news could spread amongst the tigers, over a tract of country about half as large as Scotland, for traps were set in two out of the four divisions into which Mysore was then divided.
It has often been a subject of remark that tigers, without any motive that we can even guess at, avoid certain parts of the country which, to us, seem to be equally favourable to them. This is remarkably so in my district in Mysore, parts of which, apparently quite as suitable for tigers as other parts, have never been known to hold one. It is also remarkable that they invariably cross from one range of hills to another by almost exactly the same route, at least such is my experience. These tiger passes as they are called by the natives are well known to them. There is one about a mile and a half to the north of my bungalow, and another at about the same distance to the south, and between these two points I have never heard of the track of a tiger being seen except on one occasion.
It seems singular that, as so much has been written about tigers, there should be any dispute as to the way in which the tiger usually seizes its prey, but I find that Mr. Sanderson differs widely from Captain Forsyth, and Captain Baldwin and others, and says that, though the tiger does occasionally seize by the nape of the neck in the case of his having to deal with very powerful animals, his usual method is to seize by the throat; and another sportsman of great experience tells me that, though he has seen hundreds of kills, the seizure was always by the throat. In my part of the country it is so much the usual method for the tiger to seize by the nape of the neck, that a native, when asked if he is sure that it was a tiger and not a panther, always puts his hand to the back of his neck, and if he says that the animal was seized by the throat, we invariably assume that the seizer is a panther. As Mr. Sanderson was a most careful observer, I cannot doubt the correctness of his experience, and as little can I doubt the experience in my neighbourhood. But this apparent discrepancy may easily be explained, and I regard it as probable, or even quite certain, that tigers may vary their method of attack in accordance as they live mainly on game or mainly on village cattle. In the case of a bison, a wild boar, or of a large and powerful village buffalo, Mr. Sanderson admits that the seizure is by the nape of the neck, and that no doubt is the rule with the forest tigers, such as those that have been killed near my estate, and which have lived mostly upon game, but I can easily conceive that tigers that have lived on village cattle would attack in a different way.