Gold, Sport, and Coffee Planting in Mysore / With chapters on coffee planting in Coorg, the Mysore representative assembly, the Indian congress, caste and the Indian silver question, being the 38 years' experiences of a Mysore planter

by Robert H. Elliot

The preceding illustration, I may point out, affords a useful lesson. If so suddenly attacked by a wild animal that you have no time to fire, always rush towards it, and to one side, so that you may, as it were, dodge past it. This will enable you to gain ground on it, and room to turn round and fire.

I may observe that Mr. Ball, in his "Jungle Life in India," gives several instances of natives being wantonly attacked by bears, and Colonel Campbell[^[22]] gives one remarkable instance of two bears attacking a party of his people, who were on the march through the jungle in Belgaum in charge of his horses, one of which was so severely wounded by one of the bears that the life of the horse was despaired of for some days. The Colonel was determined to be avenged on the bears, had them marked down, and, with the aid of his friends, bagged them both, but not before one of the bears had thrown down one of the party, who ran a great risk of being killed. The determination of the bear in following up his assailant was in this instance very great.

I may here observe that some little caution is required in approaching, and looking into caves, and examining the entrances for tracks of bears, and the person doing so should be fully prepared for a sudden charge out of the cave, and be ready to jump on one side. No cave should be approached with the assumption that it is not at all likely that a bear will be at home, and especial care should be taken in the case of a cave with a drop in front of it over which a person might be hurled by a bear charging suddenly out. To get a bear out of a cave is often no easy matter, and different caves require, of course, different treatment. In some cases the bear may be poked out with the aid of a long pole, and when this is done the operation is both interesting and amusing, but care must be taken to see that you have a man who understands bears, and knows by the character of the growl when the bear really means to charge out into the open, and also that the man with the stick can readily get out of the way, which he cannot do in the case of every cave. The native with a long pole, or rather stick, usually commences with a quiet nervous sort of poke, which awakes the bear out of his midday slumbers and causes him to rush at the stick with a furious growl. But this is merely a demonstration, and the experienced native does not expect a charge, though I need hardly say that he is well prepared to get out of the way. Then the native commences to poke away in a more pronounced style, and at the same time excites himself by calling in question the purity of Bruin's mother, his female relations, and even those of his remote ancestors, to all of which the bear responds by growls and rushes at the stick. At last his growls and rushes at the stick become fierce and menacing, and all of a sudden the experienced Hindoo, who by some instinctive knowledge is able to gauge the charging moment, drops the stick and scuttles out of the way, and the bear dashes headlong from the cave to be killed, or to make good his escape, as the case may be. Poking a bear out of a cave is rather a severe trial of one's nervous system, and if anyone doubts that he has only to try it for himself, as it will perhaps show the individual that we seldom rightly estimate the amount of nerve which we often expect natives to show. I think I was never more startled in my life than I was one day when I put my ramrod (it was of course in the muzzle loading days) into the very narrow mouth of a cave in which I thought there was little chance of Bruin being at home. A she-bear however was within, and all the fiercer as she had cubs, but luckily she did not charge out, and I need hardly say that I promptly drew back. Sometimes a cave may be so deep and tortuous that the bear cannot be got out with the aid of a pole, and to meet such cases I had stink balls made, as bears have very fine olfactory nerves and seem particularly to object to disagreeable smells. These balls were composed of asafœtida, pig dung, and any other offensive ingredient that suggested itself to me at the time, and made up into about the size of a cricket ball and then dried in the sun. The ball was, when required to drive a bear out of a cave, impaled on the end of a long pole and surrounded by dried grass, or any other inflammable material which was at hand, and this being ignited the pole was thrust as far as possible into the cave. This I found to be a highly successful plan, and I may mention in passing that I have met with no account in the many sporting books I have read of this being done previously. Sometimes large fires are lit in the mouth of a cave with the view of smoking a bear out, but this is rather a cruel process which I do not recommend. In some cases of peculiarly shaped and situated caves it is, however, the only practicable plan, but where adopted the bear should not be put to more inconvenience than is necessary to drive him out. A large fire should be lit at the entrance, and when the cave has got filled with smoke all the blazing fragments of wood should be removed from the entrance, and in doing this the people should talk loudly and make as much noise as possible, and afterwards retreat to a distance from the cave leaving the sportsman with his spare gun-carrier to sit just above the entrance to the cave. The bear finding that, as he erroneously supposes, every one has gone away, and being naturally desirous of quitting such uncomfortable quarters will, after a short time, come cautiously out and may thus be easily shot. It is very important to have a couple of bull-terriers when out bear shooting as they are most useful in bringing a wounded bear to bay.

In considering these remarks upon the various ways of getting bears out of caves it may be useful to show how not to attempt to get a bear out of a cave, and the connecting circumstances will also be useful to anyone who may be overtaken by a hill fire.

On one occasion many years ago news was brought in that a bear had been marked down into a small and very narrow mouthed cave on a bare hillside, and I accordingly proceeded to the spot. The whole mountain was at that time covered with long grass, and as the cave was closely surrounded by it, and the bear if poked out in the usual way would rush into the grass and thus give a bad chance to the shooter, I devised what I thought, and what at first appeared to be, an excellent plan for meeting the difficulty. This was to set fire to the whole hill just below the cave, and my theory was that, as the cave was a small one, the heat of the fire and the smoke would cause the bear to quit the cave after the fire had passed over it. The wind was, when we lit the fire, blowing from east to west and I perched myself on a pile of rocks rather above, and to the east of the bear's cave as, when leaving it, he would naturally go in a direction opposite to that of the fire, in which case he would pass within easy shot of my position. With this, distinctly original conception I was highly pleased and watched the progress of the terrific conflagration that ensued with interest and satisfaction. How it roared and leapt as it consumed the long dried grass, and how soon would the bear be likely to make its appearance! It reached the long grass around the cave and proceeded to sweep along the hill, away from me, and flying before the easterly wind. Presently there was a dead lull. A few seconds more and the whole position was reversed. I had quite forgotten that, at that season of the year, and that hour of the day, the east wind dies down, and the westerly sea breeze comes in, and in an instant I was caught in my own trap. First of all I thought I would screen myself behind one of the rocks and remain where I was, but I was of course speedily enveloped with masses of smoke, and then I thought I would get down and run; first of all, however, I peeped over the rock, but merely to perceive a terrifying mass of roaring red flames rushing towards me, and this finally determined me, and I stuffed my handkerchief into my mouth and held on. As I had of course leggings and was fully clothed I had much the best of it, but my shikari with his bare limbs got a pretty good roasting. But the fire seemed no sooner to have reached us than it was swept onwards quite away, and I was astonished at the pace it travelled, which one can have no idea of when one witnesses these conflagrations, as one usually does, from a distance. Beyond feeling as if my lungs were on fire for a day or two afterwards I experienced no ill effects from my temporary roasting, but the experience I had was quite sufficient to show me the amount of inconvenience a bear must suffer from being smoked out of his cave, and, as I have previously pointed out, no more fire should be lit at the entrance of a cave than is necessary to make it desirable for the bear to leave it, which, as I have shown, he will soon do, if the people retire to a distance. As for our bear, he probably knew far more about these hill fires and the sudden changes of wind than I did, and had not the slightest idea of coming out for some time, and I therefore had to introduce to his notice one of my stink balls, which had the effect of bringing him out. By way of a change I had intended fighting it out with the bear without firing, and told a native to attack the bear with my spear when he emerged, while I proposed, if he lodged his spear, to attack with the bayonet of my Enfield rifle. But the spear came into contact with a bone in the bear's back, and thus the point was broken off, and seeing that my man had not lodged his spear I fired and killed the bear. From my subsequent experience of the great power of the bear I am now glad that the spear was not lodged.

Bear shooting from caves I have found to be a most interesting and sometimes most entertaining and even amusing sport, while it is attended with a sufficient amount of danger for all practical purposes. You never get a laugh out of a tiger shikar, but you sometimes do in connection with bears, and the following is at once an instance in point, and will besides illustrate the danger of approaching a cave which is perhaps rarely inhabited by bears, as also the surprising promptness of the bear in action. And I say surprising, because from his shambling gait, general deliberation of movement, and the clothing of long black hair which hides the powerful form and limbs, his activity and quickness of movement when aroused is astonishing to those who have no experience of bears. But to proceed with my story.

One day, when returning from shooting in the mountains, we happened to pass a bear's cave which was rarely inhabited—at least on former occasions when we examined it we had found no traces of bears, nor had one ever been marked into it that I was able to hear of, though the cave had the reputation of being occasionally used by bears. The cave was in a beehive-shaped pile of rocks standing on, or rather projecting from, a steep hillside. From the upper side it is easily approached, but to get at the mouth of the cave you have to step down, as it were, from the roof of the beehive on to a ledge of rock about six feet wide, below which there is a drop of ten or twelve feet. From the absence of any signs of bears about the roof of the cave I assumed that the cave was as usual uninhabited, but I thought I would gratify my curiosity by looking into it, so I got down on to the ledge, and was imprudent enough to leave my guns with the people on the roof above. As there were no signs of bears on the ledge or at the entrance, I told one of the natives to go in and take a look at the cave, but he had only penetrated a few feet from the entrance, which was about five feet high, than with three furious growls a bear charged headlong, and drove the intruder out with such force that he was shot clean over the ledge, and alighting (luckily) on his side, rolled some way down the steep hillside at the bottom of the drop. Bruin then with wonderful readiness knocked down the other man, who had not presence of mind enough to get out of the way, and after inflicting a scalp wound on the back of his head, dropped over the ledge, and got off unharmed amidst several shots which were fired at him by the people above, who of course from their position could not see the bear till he had got to a considerable distance. In the confusion that had occurred amongst the people left on the roof of the cave, who were as much unprepared for a bear as I was, some one had jostled my principal shikari—a testy and at times rather troublesome old man, but a most keen sportsman—and, to the great delight of every one, his shins had in consequence been barked against a sharp piece of rock. All the sympathy that ought to have been devoted to the wounded man he diverted to himself by the tremendous fuss he made about his injured shins, and this, and the chaff he had to sustain in consequence, quite rounded off the affair, and we all went home in high good humour, and the wounded man for years afterwards used to show his ear-to-ear scar with considerable satisfaction. Some people might have objected to the escape of the bear, but I confess that I did not grudge him the victory he had earned so well, and we consoled ourselves further with the reflection that we would get the better of him next time. Before concluding the subject of bears, I may give another incident which was rather amusing, and the narration of which may be of use as illustrating one or two points which are worthy of notice, and especially the advantage of having a good dog with one.

On a mountain-side about five miles from my house is a rather large cave of considerable depth—so deep, at least, that the longest sticks would not reach to the end of it, and as we could get the bear out in no other way, I lit a large fire at the entrance, and, after some time, sent all the people away to a distance, and, with a single man to hold a second gun, sat over the mouth of the cave. The result that I anticipated soon followed, and, imagining that we had given up our project in despair, and being naturally desirous of leaving such uncomfortable quarters, Bruin presently appeared looking cautiously about. The smoke prevented my taking a very accurate shot. However, I fired, and wounded the bear somewhere in the throat, though not fatally, and he plunged into a jungly ravine close to the cave, pursued by my bull terrier, an admirable and very courageous animal, which attacked the bear, and detained him sufficiently long to give me time to run to the other side of the ravine, and so get in front of the bear. A hill-man accompanied me, armed with a general officer's sword which I had brought out—why I really forget now, for it was anything but sharp, which I now regret, as it would have been interesting to see the effect of a really sharp sword on a bear's back. The bull terrier now rejoined me, and, in company with two additional natives who had run after us, I got on a piece of rock about three feet high. The man with the sword stood on my right, and the two natives—who were unarmed—on my left, and in this order we awaited the arrival of the bear. Sore and angry, he presently emerged from the jungle at a distance of about twenty-five or thirty yards further down the slope of the hill. I fired at and hit him, and he then turned round, took a look at us, and charged. As he came on I fired my remaining shot. Then the man with the sword struck the bear a tremendous blow on the back (which I think would have stopped the bear had the sword been sharp), and in a second more old Bruin had thrown the whole of us off the rock on to the ground behind it. There we were then—four men, a wounded bear, and a bull terrier, all mixed up together. However, the man with the sword laid about him most manfully, and the bear, either not liking the situation, or being exhausted with his wounds and efforts (more likely the latter), retreated into the ravine out of which he had emerged. Into this we presently followed him, and after another shot or two he expired, and I have the skin at homo with the mark of the sword-cut on the back. It had cut through the shaggy hair, and only penetrated the skin sufficiently to leave a scar. The man who had shown so much pluck was a young farmer from the adjacent village, and I at once offered him the sword with which he had defended me. But he seemed to think he had done nothing, and positively declined it, saying that his neighbours would be jealous of his having such a fine-looking thing. I had, however, a knife made after the native fashion, and afterwards gave it to him in commemoration of the event.

In Mysore there are two kinds of panthers. One, the largest of the two, is called by the natives the Male Kiraba, or forest panther, and confines itself generally to the forest regions, while the smaller kind haunts the neighbourhood of villages. The black panther, which is of rare occurrence, is merely an offshoot of the other varieties. The panther, in consequence of its tree-climbing habits, and general aptitude for suddenly disappearing, is of all animals the most disappointing to the sportsman, so much so, indeed, that I soon gave up going out after them. Though it has great strength, and from the amazing suddenness of its movements, great means at its disposal for making successful attacks on man, it seems, unlike the tiger, bear, and wild boar, to have no confidence in its own powers, and though in one sense showing great daring by attacking dogs even when they are in the house and quite close to people, is, when attacked itself, of all animals the most cowardly—a fact which the natives are well aware of, and which is proved by the small number of people killed by panthers in proportion to the number of them accounted for. The only way of insuring success when hunting panthers is to have a small pack of country-bred dogs of so little value that when one or two of them may chance to be killed by the panther the matter is of little or no consequence. The pack will soon find the panther, and perhaps run him up a tree, and thus give the sportsman a good, or rather certain chance of killing the animal. In this way a manager of mine was very successful in bagging panthers. I have some reason to suppose that the panther, when severely wounded, sometimes feigns death, and give the following incident with the view of eliciting further information on the subject.

Two natives in my neighbourhood once sat up over a kill, and apparently killed a panther—at least it lay as if dead. They then with the aid of some villagers, who afterwards arrived on the scene of action, began to skin the panther, and the man who had wounded it took hold of the tail to stretch the body out when the panther came suddenly to life, and bit the man in the leg. One of the people present then fired at the panther, apparently killing it outright. The man, who had been only slightly bitten, then again took the animal by the tail, a proceeding which it evidently could not stand, for this time it came to life in earnest, and inflicted a number of wounds on the man at the tail. The natives then attacked it with their hacking knives, and finally put an end to it. The dresser of my estate was sent to the village, which was about six miles away, to treat the wounds, but the unfortunate man died. I may add that this is the only instance I have known of a man being killed by a panther in my neighbourhood.