them their armyof beaters and trackers, and the scenery through which these men ledthem, was oftentimes grand and beautiful in the extreme; not that theyhad much time during the chase to admire the loveliness of nature, itwas while riding homewards to their temporary camp in the cool of theevening, or stretched beneath the trees when dinner was over, that theycould thoroughly enjoy quietly gazing on all things around them. Thiswas indeed the _dolce far niente_.
Our heroes one day had an opportunity of witnessing a curious encounter,between an elephant and a tiger. They themselves were within fiftyyards of the herd when it took place, and under cover; the elephantswere quietly browsing on the plain, and evidently not suspecting thatdanger lurked on either hand. One young calf had strayed some littledistance from the parent.
"So capital a chance as this," said a tiger to himself, "is seldom to befound; I would be a fool to miss it."
There was a scream from an elephant in the rear, and a wild rush fromone in the van. The tiger seemed quite unable to check his speed intime, and next moment he was crushed to atoms under the terrible feet ofthe furious tusker. There was a crash and a scream, and a cloud ofdust. Then the elephant could be seen gathering himself up from wherehe had literally fallen upon his foe.
Fred Freeman used to chaff Chisholm O'Grahame about the immensity of hisrifle.
"I wouldn't carry such a tool as that for the world," Fred said one day.
"No," said Chisholm, laughing, "for, my dear boy, you couldn't.Besides, its kicking would kill you."
Now, early next morning a rogue elephant was to be tracked, and ifpossible bagged. He was a wily old rascal this, who seldom cared to gowith the other herds; he doubtless thought he fared better when all byhimself. He was a murderous old rascal too; for on two separateoccasions he had attacked men, and more than one death could be laid athis door. It was not the first time that some or other of our heroeshad gone out against this Goliath. But though he had been woundedseveral times, he did not seem to mind it; it evidently did not spoilhis appetite, for on this particular morning they tracked him for milesthrough a bamboo brake, and at last could hear him on ahead, browsing onthe branches as he marched.
"Now give me this shot," cried Fred, "all to myself."
"Have a care, then," said Lyell.
"Never fear for me," said Fred, and next minute he had crept into thebush and was out of sight; and his companions with a portion of thepeople sat down near a pool, left by some recent rain, to wait.Presently the ring of a rifle was heard, then a shout, then back rushedFred, faster far than he had gone away, and far less buoyant too, forbehind him was the monster tusker, eyes aflame and ears erect, bent onrevenge--bent on doing some one to death. Yes, but the pen has neveryet been dipped in ink that can describe the fury of an angry tusker'scharge.
Lyell fired quickly. Lyell missed. Now Chisholm's mighty rifle madethe welkin ring, and down rolled the elephant on his head, raising asheet of water that drenched every one of the party as a green sea wouldhave done on ship-board.
"I took a temple shot at him," said Fred.
Lyell roared with laughter. "Yes," he said, "and you hit him throughthe nose. Ha! ha! ha! that accounts for the beggar charging with trunkin air, instead of curled close." [As they almost invariably do.]
"What do you think of my rifle now?" said Chisholm, quietly.
Fred smiled, but said nothing.
Tiger-shooting from howdahs they found excellent sport--just a littleslow for Frank though, who would rather have been on horseback. But oneday he had a ride he little expected; he was all by himself in Jowser'showdah. The grass was long and rough, but there were bushes about.From one of these an enormous tiger tried to steal away. Chisholm,handy though he was in times of danger, wounded but didn't kill. Nextmoment the beast had settled on Jowser. "Come, come, none o' that,"roared Jowser, setting off at the gallop. The tiger fell next moment,with a bullet from Frank's Express through his head. But Jowser wasoff; fairly off. Who would have thought it of Jowser? Two hours ofthat wild ride, ere Jowser brought up to rub his rump against a tree,and for a week after Frank felt as if he had no more bones than ajelly-fish.
A tigress had been fired at by a party of horsemen, and wounded; but manand horse went down before that fearful charge. Next moment she hadseized the rider, and borne him away into the bush. It was her firsttaste of human blood; but not the last, for long after this she wasknown and feared by the natives as the most daring man-eater ever known.She would even enter villages by night and carry people away.
Poor Frank! he seemed destined, although the youngest of the three, tohave all the hard knocks and blows. He was one night asleep beneath abanian-tree when the man-eater entered, and attempted to seize a man.Frank, _with unloaded rifle_, rushed to the rescue. Well it was for himthat Fred Freeman was close at hand: that man-eating tigress drank nomore blood. But Frank, how frightfully still he lay! Was he dead? Allbut, reader.
This was, indeed, a sad ending to their adventures in India; but lifecannot be all sunshine. When camp was broken up a week after, and ourheroes turned their faces once more seaward--Frank on a litter--onesorrowing heart at least was left behind. It beat in the breast ofhonest Moondah.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN.
PART VI--AUSTRALIA.
CONVALESCENT AT LAST--A RUN TO AUSTRALIA--SET OUT FOR THE INTERIOR--THESCENERY--A QUEER MISTAKE--FRANK'S COUSINS.
Poor Frank Willoughby--for two long weeks his spirit hovered 'twixt lifeand death. It was a happy hour for his friends when he was pronouncedout of danger; and for Frank himself, when he was told that he hadnothing now to do in the world but just to get well again. For manyweeks longer he had to lie on his back, however. But he was in thatweak, dreamy kind of a state, that he did not mind the confinement.Every morning Chisholm brought him all the news, and read to him forhours. But how shall I describe the joy he felt the first day he wentout for exercise? This getting well after a long illness in a foreignland is a pleasure that few ever know; but the joys of convalescence aresufficient reward to the invalid for all he has previously suffered.
Frank was borne about in a palanquin. He wondered whether he would everagain bestride a fiery steed, and go bounding along over the plains, ashad been his wont. But he grew so rapidly strong and well, after hebegan to walk, that he ceased to wonder at anything; and when he and hisfriends embarked on board a saucy clipper bound for distant Australia,he felt nearly as strong as ever he was in his life.
Frank had cousins in Australia. They farmed sheep or something, Frankwas not quite sure it mightn't be kangaroos; but they were good people,and had ornithorynchus soup and cockatoo pie for dinner as often as not,with cold black swan on the sideboard. So one of the boys had writtenhim to say. Frank had the letter in his portfolio, and showed it toLyell, and there was a deal of laughing over it. If I had that letternow I would just print it _in extenso_, to save myself the trouble ofwriting this chapter. Such a glowing account of Australian life wassurely never penned before; and, if it could only be credited, what alife of wild adventure Frank's cousins must have led! Here werewonderful stories about emigrants and convicts, and settlers andsavages, serpents and snakes, mixed up with emus, and kangaroos, andcockatoos, and any amount of other _oos_. And here were tales aboutbushrangers, and bush-riding, and buck-jumpers, and bullock-hunters; andthe allusions to woomeras, and spears, and boomerangs, were as numerousas though they had been sprinkled in from a pepper-box.
Frank was himself again long ere the clipper reached Sydney, but he feltdoubly himself when, a few days afterwards, mounted on a goodly horse,with valise strapped on the saddle, he and his friends, with guides andguards, left the smoke of Sydney far behind them, and cantered merrilyaway bushwards.
It was a long journey to the station or village where Frank's cousinslived. It took them quite a week to get there. They travelledprincipally in the morning, and again at eventide, resting in the shadenear their hobbled horses, during the time the sun was high.
They had
not gone far from the capital ere they plunged into a deep,dark, silent forest--silent save for the strangely monotonous song ofthe cicala, and so for miles, and so for many leagues. Our heroes feltthey would have given anything to listen, sometimes, to the cry of abird, or even the howl of a wild beast. The inns at which they stayedat nights were rough in the extreme, but they soon got worse, then theygave them up, and preferred camping out, and whenever of an evening theyreached some open glade, there they took up their abode. But forestsgrew less dense at last, and the scenery most charming. The bluegum-trees, with stripes of pendent bark, that Fred and Frank used toadmire and marvel at, gave place to lighter timber. By night the wholeair was alive with strange sounds and strange sights, especially whenthe camp was near the water. The snoring sound of the bull-frog, thecry of the flying fox and opossum, mingled with the cooing of
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