Hussein. Patrick O’Brian

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СКАЧАТЬ a round of blank cartridge. Nevertheless, three people had managed to get killed, and a great deal of religious fanaticism had been stirred up, which meant an anxious month for the Indian Police. The unfortunate young men who had organised the game were given exceedingly undesirable posts. The PWD man was sent out to investigate wells in the Bikaneer desert villages, and the Sikhs’ officer was attached to a Madrassi regiment of infantry. The mahouts were moved, with the elephants, to a place right away in the Deccan, where they were building a road. The elephants, with their mahouts, travelled with the baggage-train of a south-bound regiment.

Three

      They marched all the way, as there was no urgent need for them. The journey took several weeks; Hussein and Mustapha stayed with Jehangir, and on the way Mustapha recited long suras, in a high chanting voice, so as to improve Hussein’s mind. Sometimes, when Mustapha dozed on Jehangir’s neck, Hussein would slip off, and go back through the dust to the slow bullock carts where Zeinab sat among the pots and bundles. At each stopping-place she made a little fire, and prepared kebabs, which she wrapped in cool leaves for Hussein to eat on the way. Every day was like the one before. They marched, with halts, from dawn until sunset, when the soldiers pitched their tents, and a complete camp sprang up within an hour. Hussein and his cousins slept on a great soft pile of fodder that smelt sweet and fresh, like new-mown hay.

      Before dawn the bugles went, and the tents disappeared like snow in summer. By sunrise they would be on the march again.

      It was a splendid journey from Hussein’s point of view — there were always new things to be seen, and new people to talk to. On one memorable evening some villagers tried to creep into the camp and steal a rack of rifles, but they were caught, amid great tumult and shouting; once a leopard took a straggling goat; and once Hussein lay down on a fat snake in the fodder heap.

      But at last they came to the place where the regiment was stationed, and the mahouts went on alone. They had an escort of the Indian Police, as they were going through a very wild part of the country, where there were bands of dacoits. One night they camped half-way through a great forest, and in the night they heard the trumpeting of wild elephants. The tame elephants trumpeted back, and Kali, Amir Khan’s elephant, broke her picket-rope and vanished into the forest; she went for ever, and though most of the mahouts thought it a good riddance, Amir Khan was inconsolable. He wandered into the jungle calling for Kali, and he got lost. They spent a day in finding him; he had stumbled into a wild bees’ nest, and he was in a lamentable state.

      At length they came to Rajkot, where the road was being made right through the jungle. The hills nearby abounded in game, from wild elephants and tigers to sand-grouse. The young ‘Stant Sahib’ who commanded the Police was a very keen shikar; and Hussein soon developed a great admiration for him.

      He was a big, red-headed man, with a face burnt brick-red by the sun. This prevailing redness gave his blue eyes a startling intensity which impressed the natives tremendously; in fact, there was a rumour current that he had a tail, being a sort of djinni. Hussein used to gaze at him for long periods; he had never seen anything like it before. ‘I wonder’, he thought, ‘whether his tail is red, too?’

      He often used to hold the Stant Sahib’s pony, so as to look at him more closely, but he never saw a vestige of a tail, red or otherwise. After a while the Englishman began to notice Hussein, and sometimes he spoke to him. At this time Hussein was a tall, thin boy of about sixteen — a young man by Indian standards.

      One day the Stant Sahib, whose name was Gill, heard of a leopard that had made a kill about half a day’s journey into the jungle. According to the report the leopard was a very large one, which had been harrying the cattle in a little Ghond village in the jungle for some time. Gill wanted to pot a good-sized leopard, but the journey would have to be made on an elephant, as it would take much too long to cut a way through the virgin jungle. So he went to the Englishman in charge of the mahouts, and asked him if he could spare him an elephant.

      ‘I can let you have an elephant all right,’ said this man, ‘but I’m afraid I really can’t spare a single mahout; you see, four of my best men have gone on leave for some damned funeral or festival or something, and I need every man I can lay my hands on for this tricky stretch of road by the stream.’

      ‘That’s a pest, because I particularly want to get out to that part of the jungle — it isn’t so much on account of the leopard, but because the dacoits have been rather busy in that direction, and I’ve an idea that a bit of reconnoitring might do some good.’

      ‘I’m awfully sorry, old man, but no can do. I’ve got to get past that awkward patch before the big-wigs come out and make remarks about inefficiency and lamentable lack of drive.’

      ‘Oh well, I daresay I can make it on a pony, but it’ll mean carrying a hell of a lot of kit. I suppose you’re coming over for bridge to-night?’

      ‘Yes, of course; look here, I tell you what, perhaps you can get hold of a chap who knows which end of an elephant goes first, and then I can let you have one, if you’ll take full responsibility and all that.’

      ‘That’s definitely an idea. I daresay I’ll be able to get hold of someone, if it’s only my syce — an elephant will make all the difference. By the way, don’t forget to bring over some sodawater to-night, I’ve run clean out of it.’

      The next day Gill’s khitmutgar went among the mahouts to find someone who could take the Englishman’s elephant. After a good deal of discussion a man suggested Hussein.

      ‘He is very young,’ objected the khitmutgar.

      ‘Yes,’ said Mustapha, ‘but he knows Jehangir almost as well as I know him myself, and moreover, he handled him when he was mûsth, which not many would have done.’ All the mahouts supported him in this.

      ‘He would have to take a lesser wage,’ said the khitmutgar, ‘on account of his youth.’

      ‘And a certain khitmutgar would get a larger share of it,’ replied Mustapha.

      ‘No such thought entered my mind,’ said the khitmutgar, ‘for I am a virtuous man; he will get eight annas, which is a princely sum for a youth.’

      ‘Allah! Behold this virtuous khitmutgar — he would sell his grandmother’s shroud! Hussein shall have one rupee and four annas, not a pice less.’

      ‘These Muslims! I am fallen among thieves! Fourteen annas and two pice.’

      ‘By no means; one rupee and one anna.’

      ‘Very well, one rupee.’ They haggled a little longer, and at length Mustapha got one rupee two pice for Hussein, who had not said a word. He had a curiously exalted feeling in his heart, as he had never officially been in full charge of an elephant before.

      He wanted to have a howdah on Jehangir, that he should look the more glorious, but Gill only wanted a pad. Long before dawn Hussein prepared Jehangir. He scrubbed the great forehead, so that it seemed grey against the blackness of the rest of his body, and he polished the silver bands about the fore-shortened tusks. Zeinab wrapped up some chupatties for him, and Amir Khan lent him an ancient iron ankus.

      At daybreak he brought Jehangir round to Gill’s bungalow. Gill had his breakfast while the khitmutgar and Hussein put his things on the pad. He only expected to be gone three days, so he had cut down his baggage to the minimum. When everything was ready, Jehangir knelt so that Gill could get up, and they set off down a little thin path.

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