The Elephant God | Page 6

shame".
"He's a good elephant, isn't he?" asked the senior.
"A ripper. Splendid to shoot from and absolutely staunch to tiger," said
the subaltern enthusiastically. "Major Smith--our Commandant before
you, sir--was charged by a tiger he had wounded in a beat near Alipur
Duar. He missed the beast with his second barrel. The tiger sprang at
the howdah, but Badshah caught him cleverly on his one tusk and
knocked him silly. The Major reloaded and killed the beast before it
could recover."
"Good for Badshah. He seemed to me to be a fine animal," said
Dermot.
"One of the best. We all like him; though he'll never let any white man
handle him. By the way, Ismail Khan says he permitted you to do it."
"I doctored up his cuts. Besides, I'm used to elephants."
"All the same you're the first sahib I've heard Of that Badshah has
allowed to touch him. Do you know, the Hindus worship him. He's a
Gunesh--I supposed you noticed that. I've seen some of them simply go
down on their faces in the dust before him and pray to him. There's a
curious thing about Badshah, too. Have you heard?"
"No. What is it?" asked the Major.
"Well, it's a rummy thing. He's usually awfully quiet and obedient. But
sometimes he gets very restless, breaks loose, and goes off on his own
into the jungle. After a week or two he comes back by himself, as quiet

as a lamb. But when the fit's on him nothing will hold him. He bursts
the stoutest ropes, breaks iron chains; and I believe he'd pull down the
peelkhana if he couldn't get away."
"Oh, that often happens with domesticated male elephants," said
Dermot. "They have periodic fits of sexual excitement--get must, you
know--and go mad while these last."
"Oh, no. It's not that," replied the subaltern confidently. "Badshah
doesn't go must. It's something quite different. The jungle men around
here have a quaint belief about it. You see, Badshah was captured by
the Kheddah Department here years ago--twenty, I think. He's about
forty now. He was taken away to other parts of India, Mhow for
one----"
"Yes, they used to have an elephant battery there," broke in the Major.
"But somehow or other he got here eventually. Rather curious that he
should have been sent back to his birthplace. Anyhow, the natives
believe that when he breaks away he goes off to family reunions or to
meet old pals."
"I shouldn't be surprised," remarked Dermot, meditatively. "They're
strange beasts, elephants. No one really knows much about them. I
expect the jungle calls to them, as it does to me."
He lit a cigarette and went on,
"But I've sent for you to talk over something important. Read that."
He handed Parker his transcription of the cipher letter. As the subaltern
read it his eyes opened wider and wider. When he had finished he
exclaimed joyfully,
"By Jove, Major, that's great. Do you think there's anything in it? How
ripping it'll be if they try to come in by this pass! Won't we just knock
them! Couldn't we get some machine guns?"

"I'm afraid we couldn't hold the Fort of Ranga Duar against a whole
invading army, Parker. You know it isn't really defensible against a
serious attack."
"Oh, I say! Do you mean, sir, that we'd give it up to a lot of Chinks and
bare-legged Bhuttias without firing a shot?"
The Major smiled at his junior's indignation.
"You must remember, Parker, that if an invasion comes off it will be on
a scale that two hundred men won't stop. The Bhutanese are badly
armed; but they are fanatically brave. They showed that in their war
with us in '64 and '65. They had only swords, bows, and arrows; but
they licked one of our columns hollow and drove our men in headlong
flight. But cheer up, Parker, if there is a show it won't be my fault if
you and I don't have a good look in."
"Thank you, Major," said the subaltern gratefully.
He smoked in silence for a while and then said:
"D'you know, sir, I had an idea there was something up when Major
Smith was suddenly ordered away and you, who didn't belong to us,
were sent here from Simla. I'd heard of you before, not only as a great
shikari--the natives everywhere in these jungles talk a lot about
you--but also as a keen soldier. A fellow doesn't usually come straight
from a staff job at Army Headquarters to a small outpost like this for
nothing."
Dermot laughed.
"Unless he has got into trouble and is sent off as a punishment," he said.
"But that didn't happen to be my case. However, I was delighted to
leave Simla. Better the jungle a