Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1874-06-11
A NIGHT IN AN INDIAN JUNGLE.


A NIGHT IN AN INDIAN JUNGLE.
IT was close upon one o'clock in the
morning, and the moon shOne brightly at
times through the fleecy clouds that were
gliding swiftly across the disk, before the
force of the northeast monsoon. One OF
our torch bearers had vanished, and the
other had allowed his torch to 20 out,
from carelessness or fright, but this did
not much signify, as there was sufficient
moonlight for the bearers to see the road;
that is to say, if rutty track through
the jungle could with any sense of pro
priety be termed a road 1t was
a beautiful bamboo jungle that
Jack Waidron and | were travelling
through, and for a long time [ gave my
self up to watching, with much interest,
the graceful waving clumps of that gigan-
tic cane, as we passed them slowly, the
bearers stumbling and kicking their way
over ruts and stones with dOleful groans,
and grunts full Of misery. l thought to
myself what a fine place for pea-fOwl we
must be in; and then, rejecting that pea
fowl and tigers are not uncOmmOnly
found together, | began to wonder if
there were any of the striped gentry
prowling in the forest; for, although the
word jungle is here used in the common
acceptation of the Indian term, which
embraces everything arborescent, from
the mightiest forests to the most insig-
nificant brushwOOd, 1t was, in fact
bamboo forest we were in, with forest
glades tG the right and left of the road,
and having canes of extraordinary girth
and loftiness, even for that part of India.
Smoking and looking out of the palan
qUin window, in the faint hope Of dis
covering some wild animal crossing the
glades in the moonlight, / must have al
most uncOEsciously got a pretty good
idea of the road, for | remembered it
generally distinct enough afterward, when
/ had to travel it under less comfortable
circumstances. But there were no wild
animals to be seen of the kind | was
looking for. JackalS raised their I'M
earthly cry now and then in the recesses
OF the jungle, and the great horned owl
fitted across the road from enc patch OF
bamboo to another; but of tigers there
was no sign, which was Just as well, con-
sidering that we had left our guns and
rifles at kindly, waiting our return, and
had not even pistol between us. 1t was
hard to get any information out of the
bearers regarding the character of the
road, for they spoke Telegu, and had but
a very slight acquaintance with HIndus-
TAM; and, besides this, they were sulky,
SO that having tried to get some infOrma-
ton from them in vain | gave it up as
bad job, and throwing away the end OF
my cheroot composed myself to sleep.
| don't think | could have slept more
than half an hour when | was awakened,
this time by the renewed clamOr OF the
bearers, who crowding about the door of
NV al which tIyCN- baI al To
fall roughly on the ground chartered all
together with surprising vOlubility and
excitement At first, haIt-&sleep as was,
| could not make out what they wanted !;
but when | gathered that nay friend Wal
dron was seized with the cholera [ was
alarmed indeed, and crawled out of the
palanquin as speedily as | could to render
him assistance. The bearers were all as
frightened and helpless as a flock ofsheep
with wolf in their midst, and | could
see that they were perfectly paRic-strick-
en-. On reaching WaldrOn's pa1anquin,
which was hundred yards or SO ahead
of mine, found nay friend, as | thought,
very i'll, and, as he family assured me,
suffering from all the symptoms of chOl-
era What was to be done? We had no
medicine but quinine, and it was vain to
look for any. Fortunately, we had
brandy, without which an Indian traveller
rarely journeys, and of this | made Wal
dron swallow a considerable quantity
neat. Then | ran back to call the bearers
to proceed without an instant's delay; but
imagine my dismay when | discovered
that they had one and all disappeared! I
shouted and called without effect There
was no answer. | ran back upon our
road for some distance at my best speed,
but could see no one. | shouted again
and again, threatened and entreated by
turns, but only to the trees of the forest,
tor not bearer was to be seen. At last |
was obliged to own to myself that we
were deserted and with no little cOnSter-
nation returned to my sick friend. He
was apparently worse, and could scarcely
speak; and yet could do nothing for
him. Suddenly the thought flashed
across my mind that | might return to
the village we had left, and with the aid
of the head man and the bungalow peon
compel another set of bearers to accom-
pany me- | told Waldron of this at once
and my poor friend, who was by this time
so nervous and weak as scarcely to be
able to understand what | said, silently
squeezed my hand-a gesture I accepted
as an assent There was no time to be
lost: wrapped a blanket around him,
and set off upon my lonely errand by the
Pickering light of the moon.
At first | was too much engrossed at
poor Waldron's piteous state to think
much of my surroundings; and l had
gone over perhaps half the distance that
divided us from the last stage we had
LETT when I became painfully aware that
l was in very awkward predlcament
myself. 1t was that part of the roaq
wh.re the bamboos grew thickly, and |
was passing a great cluster of canes
whose feathery leaves obscured the light,
wnen l tripped over stone and fell nat
on the road. | was not much hurt-on!y
my knee bruised: but in getting up again
to brush the dirt off my clothes l nap
pened to look back, and an indescrlbaple
sensation of awe came over nue. at what ]
saw IN my tracks: There aoGs a tiger fot
totcsng me. AT first l would not believe
1t; reasoned with myself that such 5