Майн Рид
The Cliff Climbers
Chapter Fifty Eight.
Fritz among the feathers
Their hilarity could not be continued for ever. Even that of Caspar came to a termination; though not until his ribs ached with the agreeable exercise.
As their bean-sacks had been already filled, it was determined that they should first take them to the hut, and then return to the storks with the design of capturing them. Ossaroo was of the opinion, that they would have no difficulty in effecting this; declaring the birds to be so tame, that he might walk straight up to them, and throw a noose over their necks. This, in all probability, he might have done, had he been provided with a piece of cord proper for the making of such a noose. But there was no cord at hand – not even a bit of string – nothing but the rush baskets filled with the lotus beans. To obtain a snare, it would be necessary to make a journey to the hut.
In the minds of our adventurers there was no very clear conception of the object of capturing the storks: unless it might have been that the thought, to which Caspar had given speech, was still entertained by himself and his brother. That indeed would have justified them in their attempt to take the birds.
Another idea may have suggested itself – more especially to Ossaroo. If nothing else should come of it, there would be some pleasure in holding the birds in captivity – as pets and companions. Ossaroo had been involuntarily contemplating the prospect of a long lonely life in the solitude of that mountain valley. With such a prospect even the solemn stork might be regarded as a cheerful companion.
Stimulated by these thoughts – and some others of a more indefinite kind – our adventurers came to the determination to ensnare the adjutants!
All three commenced wading out of the lake – in a direction so as not to disturb the sleepers. Karl and Caspar – now that they had become inspired with a design – lifted their feet out of the water, and set them down again, as though they ere treading upon egg. Ossaroo sneered at their over-caution – telling them, that there was not the slightest fear of frightening the storks; and indeed there was truth in what he affirmed.
In most countries bordering upon the banks of the Ganges, these birds, protected alike by superstitious fears and edicts of law, have become so used to the proximity of man, that they will scarce stir out of their way to avoid him. It was possible that the brace in question might have belonged to some of the wilder flocks – inhabiting the swamps of the Sunderbunds – and therefore less accustomed to human society. In that case there might be some difficulty in approaching them; and it was for this reason that Ossaroo had consented to adopt the precautions for their capture which Karl had insisted should be taken.
The truth is, that Karl had conceived a deeper design than either of his companions. It had occurred to him – while engaged with his brother in that laughing duetto – and somewhat to the surprise of Caspar, it had caused a sudden cessation of his mirth, or at least the noisy ebullition of it.
The philosopher had become silent and serious; as if the thought had suddenly arisen, that hilarity under the circumstances was indecorous and out of place. From that moment Karl had preserved a mysterious silence – even refusing to explain it when interrogated by Caspar. He was only silent on this one theme. Otherwise his speech flowed freely enough – in counsel to his companions – charging both to adopt every precaution for ensuring the capture of the storks – and with an eagerness, which puzzled them to comprehend.
A few minutes’ walk brought them back to the hut. It was rather a run than a walk – Karl going in the lead, and arriving before either of the others. The bean-sacks were flung upon the floor – as if they had been empty and of no value – and then the strings and lines that had been spun by Ossaroo were pulled out of their hidden places, and submitted to inspection.
It did not take long to make a running noose, which was accomplished by the nimble fingers of the shikaree. Easily also was it attached to the end of a long stem of the ringall bamboo; and thus provided, our adventurers once more sallied forth from the hut; and made their way towards the sleeping storks.
As they drew near, they were gratified at perceiving the birds still in the enjoyment of their meridian slumber. No doubt they had made a long journey, and needed rest. Their wings hung drooping by their sides, proclaiming weariness. Perhaps they were dreaming – dreaming of a roost on some tall fig-tree, or the tower of an antique temple sacred to the worship of Buddha, Vishna, or Deva – dreaming of the great Ganges, and its odorous waifs – those savoury morsels of putrefying flesh, in which they delighted to dig their huge mattocks of mandibles.
Ossaroo being entrusted with the noose, did not pause to think, about what they might be dreaming; or whether they were dreaming at all. Enough for him to perceive that they were sleeping; and, gliding forward in a bent attitude, silent as a tiger threading his native jungle, the shikaree succeeded in making approach – until he had got almost within snaring distance of the unconscious adjutants.
There is many a slip between the cup and the lip. The old saw was illustrated in the case of the shikaree while endeavouring to ensnare the storks; though it was not the snare, but the birds that now illustrated the adage.
After the attempt had been made, the snare could be still seen in its place, stiffly projecting from the point of the long bamboo rod; while the adjutants were soaring in the air, mounting still higher upward, their slender necks outstretched, their beaks cracking like castanets, and their throats emitting an angry sound like the roaring of a brace of lions.
The failure was not to be attributed to Ossaroo; but to the imprudence of one of his companions – an individual of the party close treading upon his heels. That individual was Fritz!
Just as Ossaroo was about casting his loop over the shoulders of a sleeping adjutant, Fritz – who had followed the party from the hut – now for the first time perceiving the birds, rushed forward and seized the tail of one of them between his teeth. Then, as if determined on securing the beautiful marabout feathers, he pulled a large mouthful of them clean out by the roots.
This was not exactly the motive that impelled Fritz to make such an unexpected attack – unexpected, because the well-trained animal would have known better than to fright the game which his masters were in the act of stalking; and such imprudence had never before been displayed by him. It was the particular kind of game that had provoked Fritz to act contrary to his usual habit of caution; for of all the creatures which he had encountered, since his arrival in the counted there, was none that had inspired him with a more profound feeling of hostility than these same adjutants. During Fritz’s sojourn in the Botanic Gardens of Calcutta – where his masters, it will be remembered, were for some time entertained as guests – Fritz had often come in contact with a brace of these gigantic birds, that were also guests of that justly celebrated establishment: they habitually made their stay within the enclosure, where they were permitted to stalk about unmolested, and pick up such stray scraps as were cast out by the domestics of the curator’s mansion.
These birds had grown so tame, as to take food freely out of the hand of anyone who offered it to them; and with like freedom, to take it where it was not offered, but found within reach of their long prehensile beaks. Often had they pilfered provisions to which they were anything but welcome; and, among other acts of their rapacity, there was one of which Fritz had been an interested spectator, and for which he was not likely ever to forgive them. That was, their robbing him of a dainty piece of meat, which one of the cooks had presented to Fritz himself; and upon which he had been going to make his dinner. One of the birds had the audacity to seize the meat in its mandibles, jerk it out of the dog’s very teeth, and swallow it, before the latter had time to offer either interruption or remonstrance.
The consequence was, that, from that time, Fritz had conceived a most rancorous antipathy towards all birds of the genus Ciconia– and the species Argala in particular; and this it was that impelled him, on first perceiving the adjutant – for being by the hut on their arrival he had not seen them before, – to rush open-mouthed towards them, and seize the tail of one of them between his teeth.
It is not necessary to add that the bird, thus indecorously assailed, took to instant flight, followed by its more fortunate though not less frightened mate – leaving Fritz in a temper to treat Marabout feathers as they had never been treated before – even when by the hands of some scorned and jealous vixen they may have been torn from the turban of some hated rival!
Chapter Fifty Nine.
Capturing the storks
Our adventurers witnessed the uprising of the birds with looks that betokened disappointment and displeasure; and Fritz was in danger of getting severely castigated. He merited chastisement; and would have received it on the instant – for Caspar already stood over him with an upraised rod – when an exclamation from Karl caused the young hunter to hold his hand, and saved Fritz from the “hiding” with which he was being threatened.
It was not for this that Karl had called out. The exclamation that escaped him was of a different import – so peculiarly intoned as at once to draw Caspar’s attention from the culprit, and fix it on his brother.
Karl was standing with eyes upraised and gazing fixedly upon the retreating stork – that one with whose tail Fritz had taken such an unwarrantable liberty.
It was not the ragged Marabout feathers, hanging half plucked from the posterior of the stork, upon which Karl was gazing; but its long legs, that, as the bird rose in its hurried flight, hung, slantingly downward, extending far beyond the tip of its tail. Not exactly these either was it that had called forth that strange cry; but something attached to them – or one of them at least – which, as it came under the shining rays of the sun, gleamed in the eyes of Karl with a metallic lustre.
It had a yellowish sheen – like gold or burnished brass – but the scintillation of the sun’s rays, as they glanced from its surface, hindered the spectators from making out its shape, or being able to say exactly what it was.
It was only Caspar and Ossaroo who were thus perplexed. Karl knew that glittering meteor, that for a moment had flashed before his eyes like a beam of hope – now slowly but surely departing from him, and plunging him back into the old misery.
“Oh! brother!” he exclaimed, as the stork flew upward, “what a misfortune has happened!”
“Misfortune! what mean you, Karl?”
“Ah! you know not how near we were to a chance of being delivered. Alas! alas! it is going to escape us!”
“The birds have escaped us, you mean?” inquired Caspar. “What of that? I don’t believe they could have carried up the rope anyhow; and what good would it be to catch them? They’re not eatable; and we don’t want their feathers valuable as they may be.”
“No, no!” hurriedly rejoined Karl; “it is not that – not that.”
“What then, brother?” inquired Caspar, somewhat astonished at the incoherent speeches of the plant-hunter. “What are you thinking of?”
“Look yonder!” said Karl, now for the first time pointing up to the soaring storks. “You see something that shines?”
“Ha! on the leg of one of the birds? Yes; I do see something – like a piece of yellow metal – what can it be?”
“I know what it is!” rejoined Karl, in a regretful tone; “right well do I know. Ah! if we could only have caught that bird, there would have been a hope for us. It’s no use grieving after it now. It’s gone – alas! it’s gone; and you, Fritz, have this day done a thing that will cause us all regret – perhaps for the rest of our lives.”
“I don’t comprehend you, brother!” said Caspar; “but if it’s the escape of the storks that’s to be so much regretted, perhaps it will never take place. They don’t appear to be in such a hurry to leave us – notwithstanding the inhospitable reception Fritz has given them. See! they are circling about, as if they intended to come down again. And see also Ossaroo – he’s holding out a lure for them. I warrant the old shikaree will succeed in coaxing them back. He knows their habits perfectly.”
“Merciful Father!” exclaimed Karl, as he looked first at the flying storks and then at Ossaroo; “be it permitted that he succeed! You, Caspar, lay hold upon Fritz, and give Ossaroo every chance! For your life don’t let the dog get away from you; for your life – for the lives of all of us!”
Caspar, though still under surprise at the excited bearing of his brother, did not allow that to hinder him from obeying his command, and rushing upon Fritz, he caught hold of the dog. Then placing the hound between his legs, he held him with both hands and knees as tightly as if Fritz had been screwed in a vice.
The eyes of all – the dog included – were now turned upon Ossaroo. Caspar contemplated his movements with an undefined interest; while Karl watched them with feelings of the keenest anxiety.
The cunning shikaree had not come to the spot unprepared. Having anticipated some difficulty in getting hold of the storks, he had providentially provided a lure, which, in the event of their proving shy, might attract them within reach of his ringall. This lure was a large fish – which he had taken out of the larder before leaving the hut, and which he was now holding out – as conspicuously as possible, to attract their attention. He had gone some distance apart from the others, and especially from Fritz, whom he had scolded away from his side; and, having stationed himself on a slight eminence near the edge of the lake, he was using all his wiles to coax back the birds that had been so unwittingly compelled to take wing.
It was evident to Ossaroo – as well as to the others – that the flight of the storks had been against their will; and that they had reluctantly ascended into the air. They were no doubt wearied, and wanted rest.
Whether this desire would have brought them to the earth again, Ossaroo did not stay to determine. As soon as by their actions he became convinced that they saw the fish held out in his hand, he flung the tempting morsel to some distance from him, and then stood awaiting the result.
It proved a success – and almost instantaneously.
There was nothing in the appearance or attitude of Ossaroo to excite the suspicion of the adjutants. His dark skin and Hindoo costume were both well-known to them; and though now observed in an odd, out-of-the-way corner of the world, that was no reason for regarding him as an enemy.
Fritz was alone the object of their fear, but Fritz was a good way off, and there appeared no longer any reason for dreading him.
Reasoning thus – and perhaps with empty stomachs to guide them to a conclusion – the sight of the fish – lying unguarded upon the grass – put an end to their fears; and, without further hesitation, both dropped down beside it.
Both at the same instant clutched at the coveted prize – each endeavouring to be the first in securing it.
As one of the birds had got hold of the fish by the head and the other by its tail, a struggle now arose as to which should be the first to swallow its body. Each soon passed a portion of it down its capacious throat, until its mandibles met in the middle, and cracked against each other.
As neither would yield to the other, so neither would consent to disgorge, and let go; and for some seconds this curious contention was kept up.
How long it might have continued was not left to the determination of the parties themselves; but to Ossaroo, who, while they were thus occupied, rushed upon the spot; and, flinging wide his arms, enfolded both the birds in an embrace, from which they vainly struggled to get free.
With the assistance of Karl and Caspar – who had in the meantime tied Fritz to a tree – the huge creatures were soon overpowered, and pinioned beyond the possibility of escaping.
Chapter Sixty.
A labelled leg
“It is! it is!” cried Karl, stooping suddenly down, and grasping the shank of one of the birds.
“What?” inquired Caspar.
“Look, brother! See what is there, round the stork’s leg! Do you not remember having seen that bit of jewellery before?”
“A brass ring! Oh yes!” replied Caspar; “now I do remember. In the Botanic Gardens there was an adjutant with a ring round its ankle; a brass ring, too – just like this one. How very odd!”
“Like!” echoed Karl. “Not only like, but the very same! Stoop down, and examine it more closely. You see those letters?”
“R.B.G., Calcutta,” slowly pronounced Caspar, as he read the inscription graven upon the ring. “‘R.B.G.’ What do these initials stand for, I wonder?”
“It is not difficult to tell that,” knowingly answered Karl. “Royal Botanical Garden! What else could it be?”
“Nothing else. For certain, these two birds must be the same we used to see there, and with which we so often amused ourselves!”
“The same,” asserted Karl. “No doubt of it.”
“And Fritz must have recognised them too – when he made that unprovoked attack upon them! You remember how he used to quarrel with them?”
“I do. He must not be permitted to assail them any more. I have a use for them.”
“A use?”
“Ah, a most important one; so important that these birds, ugly and unamiable as they are, must be cared for, as if they were the prettiest and most prized of pets. We must provide them with food and water; we must tend them by day, and watch over them by night – as though they were some sacred fire, which it was our duty to keep constantly burning.”
“All that, indeed!”
“Verily, brother! The possession of these storks is not only important – it is essential to our safety. If they should die in our hands, or escape out of them – even if one of them should die or get away – we are lost. Our last hope lies in them. I am sure it is our last.”
“But what hope have you found in them?” interrogated Caspar – puzzled to make out the meaning of his brother’s words, and not without wonder at their apparent wildness.
“Hope? Every hope. Ay, something more than hope: for in this singular incident I cannot fail to recognise the finger of a merciful God. Surely He hath at length taken compassion upon us! Surely it is He who has sent these birds! They are messengers from Heaven!”
Caspar remained silent, gazing earnestly in the eyes of his brother, that were now sparkling with mingled gratitude and joy. But although Caspar could perceive this expression, he was utterly unable to interpret it.
Ossaroo was alike puzzled by the strange looks and speeches of the Sahib Karl; but the Hindoo gave less heed to them – his attention being almost wholly taken up by the adjutants, which he fondled in turns – talking to them and embracing them, as if they had been his brothers!
As soon as the cord had been looped round their ankles, and there was no longer any danger of their getting away, Ossaroo cut up the fish into slices convenient for their gullets; and proceeded to feed them with as much fondness as he could have shown to a brace of human beings, who had arrived from a long journey in a state of starvation.
The storks exhibited no signs of shyness – not the slightest. It was not in their nature to do so. They gobbled up the morsels flung before them, with as much avidity and unconcern, as if they were being fed by the side of the great tank in the Garden at Calcutta.
The sight of Fritz alone had a disturbing influence upon them; but, by the command of Karl, the dog was kept out of view, until they had finished the meal with which Ossaroo had provided them.
Caspar, still in a cloud, once more interrogated the plant-hunter as to his purpose.
“Ho, brother!” answered Karl, “you are not wont to be so dull of comprehension. Can you not guess why I am so joyed by the presence of these birds?”
“Indeed I cannot – unless – ”
“Unless what?”
“You expect them to carry a rope up the cliff.”
“Carry a rope up the cliff! Nothing of the sort. Yes; perhaps it is something of the sort. But since you have made such a poor guess, I shall keep you in suspense a little longer.”
“O, brother! – ”
“Nay, I shall not tell you. It is news worth guessing at; and you and Ossaroo must make it out between you.”
The two hunters, thus challenged, were about entering upon a series of conjectures, when they were interrupted by Karl.
“Come!” said he, “there is no time now. You can exercise your ingenuity after we have got home to the hut. We must make sure of the storks, before anything else be attended to. This cord is too slight. They may file it in two with their bills, and get free. The very strongest rope we have got will not be more than sufficient. Come, Ossaroo, you take one. Lift it up in your arms. I shall carry the other myself; while you, Caspar, see to Fritz. Lead the dog in a leash. From this time forward he must be kept tied up – lest any misfortune should happen to spoil the best plan that has yet offered for our deliverance.”
So saying, Karl flung his arms around one of the adjutants. Ossaroo at the same instant embraced the other; and, despite the roaring that proceeded from their throats, and the clattering made by their mandibles, the huge birds were borne home to the hut.
On arriving there, they were carried inside, and fastened with strong ropes – carefully attached to their legs, and tied to the heavy beams forming the rafters of the roof. The door was to be kept shut upon them at all times when the eyes of the captors were not watching them: for Karl, knowing the importance of having such guests, was determined to make sure of his “game.”
