13 Tiger Adventure Page 3

  The boy was white with fear. Vic hid in a corner. Even the magician was terrified. He picked up the wood he had been carving and prepared to swat the beast if it fell into the room.

  Now they could see daylight through the roof. The hole grew larger. Hal leaped to the door and opened it. Down fell the leopard followed by a shower of sticks and brush from the roof.

  The leopard stood in the middle of the room glaring around him and coughing his ‘Har-har-har.’

  The magician swung the wooden leopard like a rounders bat but instead of striking the leopard he gave Hal a resounding thump on the jaw.

  Things were getting too hot for the leopard. He took advantage of the escape that Hal had provided for him. But he wouldn’t go without his supper. He seized the boy and leaped out through the door. A hundred feet away he put down the young fellow so he could laugh again - ‘Har-har-har’.

  But the joke was on the leopard. Hal came running with the magician’s dummy and Roger with a big stick that had fallen from the roof. They attacked the leopard who was not laughing now, but roaring so loudly that doors opened all down the street as people craned their necks to see what was happening. The leopard made off into the woods. The boy limped back into the house, hurt, but not too badly.

  Vic came out of his hiding-place in the corner. He stuck out his chest.

  ‘Boy, oh boy, did we scare that leopard. We gave him what was coming to him.’

  Of course he had done nothing. ‘I’ll bet he won’t come back.’ Vic strutted around like a peacock, enjoying the admiring glances he got from people in the doorways. He was the hero of the hour.

  ‘I’m not afraid of anything that breathes.’

  ‘Well, save your own breath,’ Hal said. ‘Keep your strength for what will happen when he comes back.’

  ‘He’ll never come back,’ Vic replied.

  And at that very moment the leopard was coming back. This time the animal selected the fellow with the stuck-out chest as his supper. He ran straight for Vic, and Vic ran straight for a tree. He clambered up the tree about twelve feet high and stopped. He ought to be safe here. He didn’t know that the leopard is one of the finest tree-climbers in the world.

  ‘Har-har-har,’ coughed the leopard. He began to climb the tree. Vic went up too - all the way to twenty feet. The leopard almost caught up with him. Higher, higher, Vic clambered. Now he had reached the top of the tree. The leopard stopped just below him. The animal knew a lot about trees. He was in the habit of carrying any animal he decided to eat up to the highest branches of the trees in order to keep it away from any other hungry beasts. He was so powerful that he could drag up anything even if it were twice his own weight.

  But he had had plenty of experience with branches that would break if he loaded them down with his two hundred pounds. So he didn’t dare go any farther.

  But he would just wait where he was. Sooner or later his supper would come down to him. It was a long wait for both leopard and man. Hal and Roger pelted the animal with stones, hoping it would become annoyed and climb down. No luck. The stones bounced off the strong hide of the animal and fell back down. These falling stones bothered Hal and Roger more than they did the leopard. Several times their heads were soundly whacked and the creature high in the tree laughed.

  It was beginning to get dark. Vic’s chest did not stick out so far now. He was beginning to whine. As usual, he blamed his trouble on the two brothers. Would he have to stay up here all night? The leopard didn’t mind - most of his hunting was done at night. Sooner or later this tasty bit was going to fall straight into his mouth.

  Roger had a bright idea. The net. I’ll get the net.’ He ran to the Land-Rover and brought back the net.

  ‘Good idea,’ Hal said. ‘With the help of the headman they spread the net some five feet above the ground.

  Hal showed it to Vic. ‘Jump.’

  But Vic would not jump. ‘Don’t kid me. I’d break my neck.’

  ‘Jump. We’ll catch you. Or do you want to stay there till morning?’ It was getting darker. Soon Vic would not be able to see the net. He finally summoned up what little courage he had and jumped. He hit the net, and bounced up so far that he thought he was going back up to the top of the tree. Then he fell again into the net. It was comfortable there - as good as a bed.

  But the leopard was coming down the tree.

  Hal had disappeared. He came back with Sam just as the leopard touched the ground. Sam at once did what sambars always do when bothered by any member of the cat tribe. He kicked the leopard with one powerful heel and the beast doubled up in pain. Sam delivered his second blow with the other heel and the big cat tumbled over and lay as if dead.

  ‘Quick,’ Hal said. ‘Wrap him up in the net and we’ll stuff him into the back of the Land-Rover.’

  Thanks for killing him,’ said the headman.

  ‘He’s not dead,’ said Hal. ‘He’ll be as lively as ever after we get him into his cage.’

  The news that the leopard had been captured passed rapidly from house to house and people swarmed out to thank the boys for what they had done. Vic especially enjoyed all the congratulations.

  ‘It was nothing,’ he said, ‘nothing at all. Any time you want us to help you just let us know.’

  Hal cut short his speech. ‘No more time for talk. We’ve got to get this cat into a cage before he wakes up.’

  The leopard was still asleep when they got home. The net was removed and the big body was pushed into a cage. When the cat woke up it went crazy trying to break the bars of the cage but it was no use.

  The cat settled down over the meat that had been thrown to him. Cold meat! He preferred live meat, warm and juicy. His luck had changed. No longer could he kill, and kill, and laugh his sarcastic ‘Har-har-har’.

  When morning came, Hal and Roger popped out before breakfast to see their new cat.

  The leopard and the tiger in the next cage were talking together in low grunts. It was not a love grunt. These two animals do not care for each other.

  The tiger had reason to be proud of his fine black stripes on yellow hide. But the leopard was covered with flowers -at least they looked like flowers. Naturalists called them rosettes, meaning that they were as lovely as roses. Behind them was a soft light-brown skin’

  ‘What a beautiful animal,’ Roger said.

  ‘And as brave and strong as he is beautiful,’ Hal added. ‘Hunters say the leopard is the most handsome cat in all the Indian jungles.’

  ‘But he has a bad temper.’ said Roger.

  ‘I think we can take care of that when we get him in pleasant surroundings on Dad’s farm. And any zoo will be glad to give him the care such a beauty deserves.’

  ‘Okay,’ Roger said, ‘if we can just get him on a ship before

  Vic steals him,’ Hal laughed. To make off with a leopard is not so easy as

  to pick up a mouse-deer.’

  Chapter 6

  The Playful Panda

  It was a great day when they found a panda.

  ‘Look!’ said Roger. ‘Away up in that tree. What is it?’ Hal took out his binoculars and studied the strange ball of fur.

  ‘My boy,’ he said, ‘Columbus discovered America. And you have just discovered something that any zoo would give its eye-teeth to have. That’s a panda. Dad wanted one. But I never expected to be able to give him one.’

  ‘Okay,’ said Roger. ‘If it’s so great why don’t you go up and get it?’

  ‘I wouldn’t think of doing such a thing. You discovered it, my dear Columbus. You are entitled to the honour of bringing it down.’

  Roger grinned. ‘How generous of you! What’s the reason you don’t want to touch it? Will it bite?’

  ‘You guessed it. The panda’s teeth are like razors.’ Hal pulled out some twine from his pocket. ‘Tie this around his jaws. Then he can’t hurt you - except with his claws.’ He saw that his brother was worried.

  ‘I was just kidding,’ Hal said. ‘You stay here safe and sound and I
’ll go up and get it.’

  ‘Not on your life,’ said Roger. ‘I saw it. I’ll bring it down.’

  Hal was pleased. He wanted to train his young brother to face danger. That would not be difficult. Roger had a lot of Hunt courage.

  He climbed the tree. The panda was rolled up, sound asleep. Roger tied the mouth shut. He didn’t know what to do about those long sharp claws on all four feet. Just have to take a chance.

  He started down with the heavy animal in his arm. That left only one arm to clutch the branches. What if the beast woke up? It would struggle and fight and cut with its four sets of razors.

  Then he noticed that the creature’s eyes were wide open. The panda was already awake. But it was as quiet during this jolting trip as if it were being rocked in a cradle.

  Most animals would have screamed and struggled. But this one didn’t know anything about men. It didn’t know how cruel men could be.

  But it pat up one foot and pulled the twine from its jaws. Still it did not bite. It was an instant friendship between boy and beast.

  Roger and his burden reached the ground safely. Hal was amazed.

  friendly little fellow,’ he said.

  ‘Not so little. He nearly broke my arm.’

  ‘Well, you were lucky that he wasn’t full-grown. When he grows up he will weigh more than a hundred pounds. What a beautiful red overcoat he is wearing. He needs that, because his homeland is about twelve thousand feet up the mountain. He comes down to eat bamboo shoots.’

  ‘Doesn’t he eat anything else?’

  ‘Yes. For dessert he fancies insects, wasps, bees, hornets, and he kills them so quickly between those sharp teeth that they don’t have a chance to sting him.’

  ‘I’m going to call him Pan,’ said Roger.

  Hal lifted one of Pan’s front feet.

  ‘See. It’s almost a hand, not a foot. Hardly any animal except the monkey has a thumb. This panda can pick up anything between his thumb and what serves as fingers, Try picking something up without using your thumb. You do much better with a thumb. Put him down.’

  ‘He’ll run away.’

  ‘No, I don’t think so. He likes you.’

  Placed on the ground, Pan looked about as if deciding what to do, then climbed up Roger’s trouser-leg into his arms.

  And so he rode home. He was not put in a cage. He was allowed to run free inside the cabin or out.

  His life consisted of eating and playing.

  ‘He’s a clown,’ Hal said. You remember the clowns in the circus? Well, Pan is the clown of the animal world.’

  Pan the clown was full of tricks. News of his arrival at the Hunt camp soon got around and people came from near and far to see him perform.

  Pan was part bear, part raccoon. Like a raccoon, he was clever. Like a bear, he could do all sorts of stunts. The difference was that a bear has to be trained to do stunts, but the panda could do them naturally without being trained.

  Pan’s first adventure was to climb up on top of the leopard’s cage. That annoyed the beautiful cat. When a leopard is angry it raises its tail as straight as a mast.

  The tip of the tail stuck out through the wire and Pan gave it a good yank. What a roar he got out of the bad-tempered beauty.

  Now Pan jumped over on top of the cage that held the King of Beasts. The tiger was so large that the tip of his tail was within reach. Pan tweaked it. The tiger did not roar. His purr was as loud as the sound a dozen house cats would make all purring together.

  Hal took a chance. He opened the door of the cage just wide enough for Pan to squeeze in. What would the tiger do?

  Tigers eat living animals of any size, as small as a rat or as big as a sambar. But the tiger had just been fed and he enjoyed the cute antics of his roly-poly visitor. He licked the furry bear-raccoon as if Pan were one of his own cubs.

  Take him out,’ someone yelled. ‘He’ll be killed.’

  But the greatest of cats was not in a killing mood. He let Pan climb up on his back. He didn’t mind when Pan playfully pulled his ears.

  The clown took a walk along the tiger’s back from one end to the other. The tiger seemed delighted to have company.

  But the clown had other business. He jumped down and went to the door. Hal let him out.

  The clown at once introduced himself to an old headman with long whiskers who was wearing a hat. Pan grabbed the hat and put it on his own head.

  Then he hopped over on to a woman’s head, tore off the wig she was wearing and put it on top of his hat.

  It was the raccoon in him that made him do such things. The raccoon is as mischievous as a monkey, and as clever as a fox. And Pan had these same qualities.

  He cavorted around much as a clown does in a circus. He was having a remarkably good time.

  Hal brought out a bowl of soup and a spoon. He showed Pan how to use the spoon. Then he passed it to the animal. The clown was a little bewildered. Pandas don’t take soup and they don’t use spoons.

  But Pan was not easily defeated. He took the spoon, dipped it into the soup, then took it out upside down and tried to get it into his mouth.

  The result was that he did not get much soup but, he did get a lot of laughter from the crowd.

  ‘Now I’ll give him what he really likes.’ Hal said.

  He crumbled some bamboo into small bits and offered them to Pan.

  The clown showed Hal just how a panda eats bamboo, his favourite food. He lay on his back and scooped the bamboo bits on to his chest. Then he took up each bit in his front paws that looked so much like hands and he began chewing the hard chunks of bamboo. The crowd looked with astonishment at an animal eating wood. But thanks to sharp incisors and powerful molars Pan made short work of chewing and swallowing the bamboo. Then he rolled up and went to sleep.

  Hal saw to it that the old headman got his hat and the woman her wig.

  ‘Great show,’ they said.

  ‘Don’t thank me,’ said Hal. ‘It’s Roger who got the panda.’

  So Roger was thanked by everyone and the guests, still laughing at the performance of the raccoon-bear, went home much pleased with themselves, Roger, and the panda.

  Chapter 7

  Runaway Elephant

  Vic thought he was a fine-looking fellow and wanted Hal to take his picture half a dozen times a day.

  ‘I want a picture of me on an elephant,’ he said. The three boys were in a timber-yard of the Abu Singh Teak Company. They had been watching an elephant pick up a log as long as a telegraph pole, rest it on his tusks, hold it in place with his trunk, carry it across the yard and place it carefully on a pile of logs.

  There it would stay until some shipbuilder wanted to build a vessel’s hull out of wood that would last a lifetime without decay.

  Teak was not very well known in Western countries but it grew well in India up to altitudes of three thousand feet. The trunks made logs that were floated several miles downstream to the timber-yard. The wood was regarded by the Indians as the finest in the world, even better than mahogany.

  When the elephant had done his job Vic said, ‘Make him lie down. Then I can get on his back.’

  ‘But he’s not a riding elephant,’ the mahout objected. ‘He knows what to do with logs but he’s never had a stranger on his back.’

  ‘Okay,’ said Vic ‘then this will be the first time. I’ll teach him.’

  The mahout brought the animal to earth. Vic climbed up on to the broad back.

  ‘Shall I take the picture now?’ Hal asked.

  ‘Of course not. I’m not going to have my picture taken on a lying-down elephant. Make him stand up.’

  When the elephant stood the picture was taken.

  The click of the camera and the strange feeling of something heavy on his back was more than the elephant could stand. He whirled about, shot out of the timber-yard and raced down the street.

  An elephant in motion puts down two feet on one side, then the two feet on the other side, and this makes him roll back and f
orth. When there’s no saddle, the rider has a hard time sticking on.

  Vic hung on to the rubbery edges of the two ears and wished he had never tried to ride this wobbly beast.

  The mahout, yelling at the top of his lungs, came running’ after them but could not catch up. Vic rolled about like a peanut on the hurricane deck of this ship of the jungle and expected to be shaken loose at any moment.

  The elephant was not accustomed to traffic and took the wrong side of the street. Presently a Ford came straight towards him, honking as if the driver really thought that this mountain of flesh would move out of his way. When it did not, he saved himself and his car at the last moment by plunging through a fence, across a garden, and into a bamboo home. The screams of the people in the house followed Vic and his mount.

  And now came a rickshaw, fortunately empty. With one touch of his trunk the elephant flicked it into the gutter, the rickshaw coolie still cooped between the shafts.

  The elephant’s trunk was making mad circles in the air. Sometimes it was flung back in Vic’s direction like the tentacle of an octopus. How far back could an elephant reach with his trunk? Elephants could shower their own backs. Vic wondered if he would suddenly be picked off and flung into someone’s second-storey window.

  They arrived at a busy cross-street. In the middle of the crossing was a policeman on a traffic platform operating a stop sign.

  But the elephant, though very clever with logs, was not clever enough to read. He surged straight on, with cars rickshaws and gharries scattering out of the way in a panic.

  The policeman roared and the general public screamed.

  Now the wild beast was carrying Vic alongside a river. But this was hot work, and the elephant decided to take a bath.

  First it was only five feet deep and Vic did not worry. But it became deeper and deeper and finally the elephant’s back disappeared under water and Vic was soaked to the skin.