Tiger my Friend & Romi and the Wildfire (2 in 1)

by Ruskin Bond

  "You missed him completely," said Chottu's father.

  "I did not," said Kundan. "You heard him roar! Would he have been so angry if he had not been hit?"

  "Well, if you have only wounded him, he will turn into a man-eater – and where will that leave us?"

  "He won't be back," said Kundan. "He will leave this area."

  During the next few days the tiger lay low. He did not go near the marsh except when it was very dark and he was very thirsty. The herdsmen and villagers decided that the tiger had gone away. Nandu and Chottu – usually accompanied by other village youths, and always carrying their small hand-axes – began bringing the buffaloes to the marsh again during the day; they were careful not to let any of them stray far from the herd.

  But one day, while the boys were taking the herd home, one of the buffaloes lagged behind. Nandu did not realize that an animal was missing until he heard an agonised bellow behind him. He glanced over his shoulder just in time to see the tiger dragging the buffalo into a clump of bamboo. The herd sensed the danger, and the buffaloes snorted with fear as they hurried along the forest path. To urge them forward and to warn his friends, Nandu cupped his hands to his mouth and gave a yodelling call.

  The buffaloes bellowed, the boys shouted, and the birds flew shrieking from the trees. Together they stampeded out of the forest. The villagers heard the thunder of hoofs, and saw the herd coming home amidst clouds of dust.

  "The tiger!" called Nandu. "He is back! He has taken another buffalo!"

  He is afraid of us no longer, thought Chottu. And now everyone will hate him and do their best to kill him.

  "Did you see where he went?" asked Kundan Singh, hurrying up to them.

  "I remember the place," said Nandu.

  "Then there is no time to lose," said Kundan. "I will take my gun and a few men, and wait near the bridge. The rest of you must beat the jungle from this side and drive the tiger towards me. He will not escape this time, unless he swims the river!"

  Chapter Five

  Kundan took his men and headed for the suspension bridge across the river, while the others, guided by Nandu and Chottu, went to the spot where the tiger had seized the buffalo.

  The tiger was still eating when he heard the men coming. He had not expected to be disturbed so soon. With an angry "Whoof!" he bounded into the jungle, and watched the men – there were some twenty of them – through a screen of leaves and tall grass.

  The men carried hand drums slung from their shoulders, and some carried sticks and spears. After a hurried consultation, they strung out in a line and entered the jungle beating their drums.

  The tiger did not like the noise. He went deeper into the jungle. But the men came after him, banging away on their drums and shouting at the tops of their voices. They advanced singly or in pairs, but nowhere were they more than fifteen yards apart.

  The tiger could easily have broken through this slowly advancing semi-circle of men – one swift blow from his paw would have felled the strongest of them – but his main object was to get away from the noise. He hated and feared the noise made by men.

  He was not a man-eater and he would not attack a man unless he was very angry or very frightened; and as yet he was neither. He had eaten well, and he would have liked to rest – but there would be no rest for him until the men ceased their tremendous clatter and din.

  Nandu and Chottu kept close to their elders, knowing it wouldn't be safe to go back on their own. Chottu felt sorry for the tiger; he hadn't forgotten the day when the tiger had saved him from the bear.

  "Do they have to kill the tiger?" he asked. "If they drive him across the river he won't come back, will he?"

  "Who knows?" said Nandu. "He has found it's easy to kill our buffaloes, and when he's hungry he'll come again. We have to live too."

  Chottu was silent. He could see no way out for the tiger.

  For an hour the villagers beat the jungle, shouting, drumming, and trampling the undergrowth.

  The tiger had no rest. Whenever he was able to put some distance between himself and the men, he would sink down in some shady spot to rest; but, within a few minutes, the trampling and drumming would come nearer, and with an angry snarl he would get up again and pad northwards, along the narrowing strip of jungle, towards the bridge across the river.

  It was about noon when the tiger finally came into the open. The boys had a clear view of him as he moved slowly along, now in the open with the sun glinting on his glossy side, now in the shade or passing through the shorter grass. He was still out of range of Kundan Singh's gun, but there was no way in which he could retreat.

  He disappeared among some bushes but soon reappeared to retrace his steps. The beaters had done their work well. The tiger was now only about a hundred and fifty yards from the place where Kundan Singh waited.

  The beat had closed in, the men were now bunched together. They were making a great noise, but nothing moved.

  Chottu, watching from a distance, wondered: Has he slipped through the beaters? And in his heart he hoped so.

  Tins clashed, drums beat, and some of the men poked into the reeds along the river bank with their spears or bamboo sticks. Perhaps one of these thrusts found its mark, because at last the tiger was roused, and with an angry, desperate snarl he charged out of the reeds, splashing his way through an inlet of mud and water.

  Kundan Singh fired and missed.

  The tiger rushed forward, making straight for the only way across the river – the suspension bridge that crossed it, providing a route into the hills beyond.

  The suspension bridge swayed and trembled as the big tiger lurched across it. Kundan fired again, and this time the bullet grazed the tiger's shoulder.

  The tiger bounded forward, lost his footing on the unfamiliar, slippery planks of the swaying bridge, and went over the side, falling headlong into the swirling water of the river.

  He rose to the surface once, but the current took him under and away, and before long he was lost to view.

  Chapter Six

  At first the villagers were glad – they felt their buffaloes were safe. Then they began to feel that something had gone out of their lives, out of the life of the forest. The forest had been shrinking year by year, as more people had moved into the area; but as long as the tiger had been there and they had heard him roar at night, they had known there was still some distance between them and the ever-spreading towns and cities. Now that the tiger had gone, it was as though a protector had gone.

  The boys lay flat on their stomachs on their little mud island, and watched the monsoon clouds gathering overhead.

  "The king of the jungle is dead," said Nandu. "There are no more tigers."

  "There have to be tigers," said Chottu. "Can there be an India without tigers?"

  The river had carried the tiger many miles away from his old home, from the forest he had always known, and brought him ashore on the opposite bank of the river, on a strip of warm yellow sand. Here he lay in the sun, quite still, breathing slowly.

  Vultures gathered and waited at a distance, some of them perching on the branches of nearby trees. But the tiger was more drowned than hurt, and as the river water oozed out of his mouth, and the warm sun made new life throb through his body, he stirred and stretched, and his glazed eyes came into focus. Raising his head, he saw trees and tall grass.

  Slowly he heaved himself off the ground and moved at a crouch to where the tall grass waved in the afternoon breeze. Would he be hunted again, and shot at? There was no smell of man. The tiger moved forward with greater confidence.

  There was, however, another smell in the air, a smell that reached back to the time when he was young and fresh and full of vigour; a smell that he had almost forgotten but could never really forget – the smell of a tigress.

  He lifted his head, and new life surged through his limbs. He gave a deep roar, "A-oonh!" and moved purposefully through the tall grass. And the roar came back to him, calling him, urging him forward; a roar that
meant there would be more tigers in the land!

  That night, half asleep on his cot, Chottu heard the tigers roaring to each other across the river, and he recognized the roar of his own tiger. And from the vigour of its roar he knew that it was alive and safe; and he was glad.

  "Let there be tigers forever," he whispered into the darkness before he fell asleep.

  ROMI

  And

  THE WILDFIRE

  ROMI

  And

  THE WILDFIRE

  Ruskin Bond

  Copyright © Ruskin Bond

  Published 2010 by

  Rupa Publications India Pvt. Ltd.

  7/16, Ansari Road, Daryaganj,

  New Delhi 110 002

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

  The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

  Illustrated by Valerie Littlewood

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 1

  As Romi was about to mount his bicycle, he saw smoke rising from behind the distant line of trees.

  "It looks like a forest fire," said Prem, his friend and classmate.

  "It's well to the east," said Romi. "Nowhere near the road."

  "There's a strong wind," said Prem, looking at the dry leaves swirling across the road.

  It was the middle of May, and it hadn't rained for several weeks. The grass was brown, the leaves of the trees covered with dust. Even though it was getting on to six o'clock in the evening, the boys' shirts were damp with sweat.

  "It will be getting dark soon," said Prem. "You'd better spend the night at my house."

  "No, I said I'd be home tonight. My father isn't keeping well. The doctor has given me some pills for him."

  "You'd better hurry, then. That fire seems to be spreading."

  "Oh, it's far off. It will take me only forty minutes to ride through the forest. 'Bye, Prem—see you tomorrow!"

  Romi mounted his bicycle and pedalled off down the main road of the village, scattering stray hens, stray dogs and stray villagers.

  "Hey, look where you're going!" shouted an angry villager, leaping out of the way of the oncoming bicycle. "Do you think you own the road?"

  "Of course I own it," called Romi cheerfully, and cycled on.

  His own village lay about seven miles distant, on the other side of the forest; but there was only a primary school in his village, and Romi was now at High School. His father, who was a fairly wealthy sugar-cane farmer, had only recently bought him the bicycle. Romi didn't care too much for school and felt there weren't enough holidays; but he enjoyed the long rides, and he got on well with his classmates.

  He might have stayed the night with Prem had it not been for the pills which the Vaid—the village doctor—had given him for his father.

  Romi's father was having back trouble, and the pills had been specially prepared from local herbs. Having been given such a fine bicycle, Romi felt that the least he could do in return was to get those pills to his father as early as possible.

  He put his head down and rode swiftly out of the village. Ahead of him, the smoke rose from the burning forest and the sky glowed red.

  Chapter 2

  He had soon left the village far behind. There was a slight climb, and Romi had to push harder on the pedals to get over the rise. Once over the top, the road went winding down to the edge of the forest.

  This was the part Romi enjoyed most. He relaxed, stopped pedalling, and allowed the bicycle to glide gently down the slope. Soon the wind was rushing past him, blowing his hair about his face and making his shirt billow out behind him. He burst into song.

  A dog from the village ran beside him, barking furiously. Romi shouted to the dog, encouraging him in the race.

  Then the road straightened out, and Romi began pedalling again.

  The dog, seeing the forest ahead, turned back to the village. It was afraid of the forest.

  The smoke was thicker now, and Romi caught the smell of burning timber. But ahead of him the road was clear. He rode on.

  It was a rough, dusty road, cut straight through the forest. Tall trees grew on either side, cutting off the last of the daylight. But the spreading glow of the fire on the right lit up the road, and giant tree-shadows danced before the boy on the bicycle.

  Usually the road was deserted. This evening it was alive with wild creatures fleeing from the forest fire.

  The first animal that Romi saw was a hare, leaping across the road in front of him. It was followed by several more hares. Then a band of monkeys streamed across, chattering excitedly.

  They'll be safe on the other side, thought Romi. The fire won't cross the road.

  But it was coming closer. And realizing this, Romi pedalled harder. In half an hour he should be out of the forest.

  Suddenly, from the side of the road, several pheasants rose in the air, and with a whoosh, flew low across the path, just in front of the oncoming bicycle. Taken by surprise, Romi fell off. When he picked himself up and began brushing his clothes, he saw that his knee was bleeding. It wasn't a deep cut, but he allowed it to bleed a little, took out his handkerchief and bandaged his knee. Then he mounted the bicycle again.

  He rode a bit slower now, because birds and animals kept coming out of the bushes.

  Not only pheasants but smaller birds, too, were streaming across the road—parrots, jungle crows, owls, magpies—and the air was filled with their cries.

  Everyone's on the move, thought Romi. It must be a really big fire.

  He could see the flames now, reaching out from behind the trees on his right, and he could hear the crackling as the dry leaves caught fire. The air was hot on his face. Leaves, still alight or turning to cinders, floated past.

  A herd of deer crossed the road, and Romi had to stop until they had passed. Then he mounted again and rode on; but now, for the first time, he was feeling afraid.

  Chapter 3

  From ahead came a faint clanging sound. It wasn't an animal sound, Romi was sure of that. A fire-engine? There were no fire-engines within fifty miles.

  The clanging came nearer, and Romi discovered that the noise came from a small boy who was running along the forest path, two milk-cans clattering at his side

  "Teju!" called Romi, recognising a boy from a neighbouring village. "What are you doing out here?"

  "Trying to get home, of course," said Teju, panting along beside the bicycle.

  "Jump on," said Romi, stopping for him.

  Teju was only eight or nine—a couple of years younger than Romi. He had come to deliver milk to some road-workers, but the workers had left at the first signs of the fire, and Teju was hurrying home with his cans still full of milk.

  He got up on the cross-bar of the bicycle, and Romi moved on again. He was quite used to carrying friends on the crossbar.

  "Keep beating your milk-cans," said Romi. "Like that, the animals will know we are coming. My bell doesn't make enough noise. I'm going to get a horn for my cycle!"

  "I never knew there were so many animals in the jungle," said Teju. "I saw a python in the middle of the road. It stretched right across!"

  "What did you do?"

  "Just kept running and jumped right over it!"

  Teju continued to chatter but Romi's thoughts were on the fire, which was much closer now. Flames shot up from the dry grass and ran up the trunks of trees and along the branches. Smoke billowed out above the forest.

  Romi's eyes were smarting and his hair and eyebrows felt scorched. He was feeling tired but he couldn't stop now, he had to get beyond the range of the fire. Another ten or fifteen minutes of steady riding would get th
em to the small wooden bridge that spanned the little river separating the forest from the sugar-cane fields.

  Once across the river, they would be safe. The fire could not touch them on the other side, because the forest ended at the river's edge. But could they get to the river in time?

  Chapter 4

  Clang, clang, clang, went Teju's milk-cans. But the sounds of the fire grew louder too.

  A tall silk-cotton tree, its branches leaning across the road, had caught fire. They were almost beneath it when there was a crash and a burning branch fell to the ground a few yards in front of them.

  The boys had to get off the bicycle and leave the road, forcing their way through a tangle of thorny bushes on the left, dragging and pushing at the bicycle and only returning to the road some distance ahead of the burning tree.

  "We won't get out in time," said Teju, back on the cross-bar but feeling disheartened.

  "Yes, we will," said Romi, pedalling with all his might. "The fire hasn't crossed the road as yet."

  Even as he spoke, he saw a small flame leap up from the grass on the left. It wouldn't be long before more sparks and burning leaves were blown across the road to kindle the grass on the other side.

  "Oh, look!" exclaimed Romi, bringing the bicycle to a sudden stop.

  "What's wrong now?" asked Teju, rubbing his sore eyes. And then, through the smoke, he saw what was stopping them.

  An elephant was standing in the middle of the road.

  Teju slipped off the cross-bar, his cans rolling on the ground, bursting open and spilling their contents.

  The elephant was about forty feet away. It moved about restlessly, its big ears flapping as it turned its head from side to side, wondering which way to go.