Hussein. Patrick O’Brian

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СКАЧАТЬ there were between fifty and seventy-five of them — a very formidable pack. They ran silently, keeping their distance, and waiting for a lead. Gill and Hussein changed places, a very difficult thing to do on the elephant’s swaying back, and Gill tried to pick off some of the dholes with his rifle; but Jehangir, going at full speed, rolled like a ship in a heavy sea, so his shooting was rather wild.

      ‘Shall we cross the river?’ he asked.

      ‘No,’ replied Hussein, ‘for they swim well; moreover, even Jehangir likes to take his time over a crossing and, being worried by these scum, he might be injured.’

      As they were speaking one of the dholes running at the side came in and snapped at the elephant’s flank; he hung there for a moment, and dropped. Several others followed his lead, and soon the whole pack was close behind. Jehangir stopped suddenly, so that Gill was almost jerked off; then he turned very nimbly; the dholes fell away on either side, but he stamped on two of the slowest, destroying them utterly.

      Then he went on, rumbling a little to himself in his throat. For a little while the pack kept its distance, but soon they were snapping behind him again. Gill was getting more used to the rolling now, and he wounded one of the leaders severely. In a moment the wounded dhole was torn to pieces; he had been the leader of the pack, and was very unpopular with the younger dholes. The pack swept on, leaving him for the following kites.

      At this time they were passing through the bare rocks where the dholes had their lairs. Some of them ran ahead to a rocky defile where a ledge overhung the path. They leapt down as the elephant passed. Three of them got a footing on Jehangir’s hind-quarters, and they came at Gill. Hussein knocked one off, and Gill another, but the third got the Englishman’s arm between his teeth, and hung on. The heavy, thick-set brute had Gill half off before Hussein caught up his ankus (he had tucked it into the pad) and beat the dhole so hard on the head that it died at once. But even then its jaws stayed clamped, and they had to prise them open.

      Gill recovered his balance as Jehangir turned again and stamped four times: at each stamp there was a short gasp as a dhole was flattened into the ground. But this time the dholes did not scatter: they leapt up all round, worrying the elephant’s legs. Jehangir plucked them off with his trunk, and hurled them against the rocks, but more came on. Some scrambled up to the ledge, and jumped down at Gill and Hussein. They were prepared, however, and knocked them off with clubbed guns. Jehangir stamped twice more, and broke away.

      The chase began again, and for quite a long while the wild dogs kept a good distance off. Gill was firing rapidly, and he managed to pick off one or two now and then. They went on and on: the river was left far behind, and they were in a very desolate country with bare, reddish ground thinly covered with thorn trees. Gill’s left arm, just above the elbow, was badly torn, and it made his aim very unsteady after a while. He kept on firing, however, as he thought that the noise might keep the dholes off, even if it did not hit any of them; but soon they took very little notice of it.

      Every now and then Jehangir turned, but the dholes were intent on tiring him out, so they fell back, and would not close with him.

      The elephant was limping with his off fore foot now — a long thorn had lodged in it. The pace was telling on him, and his speed grew less and less. He stumbled, but recovered and went on. Imperceptibly the dholes drew in. They were silent now, and they ran with their tongues hanging out. When they were fairly close, Gill and Hussein took the rifle and the shot-gun, holding them clubbed, for there would be no time to load if all the dholes rushed them together.

      Jehangir stumbled again; he fell to his knees, and stopped. He turned and faced the dholes. They spread out in a wide circle; they were panting fast by now, but they were still good for half a day’s running, whereas the elephant, with his heavy load and his lame foot, could not go much farther. Suddenly the circle contracted, and they were surrounded by a seething mass of dholes. Some scrambled with amazing agility on to his back; Gill guarded one side and Hussein the other, but they could hardly keep themselves from being pulled off. The elephant slipped to his knees again as he stamped on a dhole, and several of them came over his shoulders. They were beaten off, but one seized Hussein’s foot, and another tore Gill’s coat from his back. They all drew off for an instant, yelling like fiends: it was obvious that they were going to make a concerted charge. In a second they rushed all together. In desperation Hussein shouted, ‘Break away, hathi-raj!’

      Jehangir grunted, and heaved himself out of the mass of dholes. He shook his great shoulders, and stamped again and again; he stumbled twice, and nearly went over, but he broke away. Dholes hung on to him all over, like leeches: Hussein and Gill beat them off. It was clear that he could not go much farther without a rest, and without having the thorn pulled from his foot. Before they had beaten the last dhole off, the elephant crossed a path. He uncoiled his trunk and sniffed the wind: then he turned along the path. The wild dogs followed.

      ‘By the mercy of Allah', said Hussein, ‘he has smelt a village.’

      ‘If only he can reach it,’ replied Gill, ‘everything will be all right.’

      They swept on, the dholes running silently. Behind them, at the place where Jehangir had almost fallen, the kites and jackals, who had followed at a distance, closed in on the dead or dying wild dogs.

      Jehangir was going along at a good speed, but his breath was coming short, and he faltered now and again in his stride. The dholes were less confident now; they came on just the same, but none of them was anxious to give the lead in attacking the elephant.

      By a fluke Gill shot two of them with two successive shots, killing both. But just then the path dipped into a little valley. There was a muddy stream at the bottom, and as Jehangir came to it he hesitated, and the dholes crowded behind him, howling with new ferocity.

      Hussein bent over his head, patting him and urging him on; at the bank he stopped dead, and several of the wild dogs leapt; one caught Jehangir’s tail; the sudden pain startled him, and he shot forwards: they were across the slow stream in a flurry of spray before the elephant realised it. The dholes swam across. There were only about thirty heads bobbing in the water now, but the pack was still quite large enough to be very dangerous, as all the weaker dholes had fallen back, and only the biggest and fiercest ones remained.

      Jehangir smelt that the village was not far away, and he put on an extra spurt. After a little while a dense patch of thorns appeared; the path led in and out to the mud walls of the village, which was quite near now. Jehangir took no count of the path; he went straight through the thorn bushes; they crackled as he smashed through them.

      The dholes were losing ground as they picked their way among the bushes. As they came nearer and nearer to the village many of them stopped.

      Only one was near the elephant now: this one, with a prodigious effort, leapt up and snapped his teeth on the heel of Gill’s boot. It snarled, and bit clean through the heel; then Gill killed it with the butt of his rifle.

      To their amazement they saw that the gates of the village were shut. Two or three shots rang out from the walls, and the bullets hummed unpleasantly close to their heads. But Jehangir was determined to get to the village, and nothing short of heavy artillery could have stopped him now; he rolled up his trunk under his tusks, bent his head, and putting on an extra burst of speed he fairly flew at the gates. Gill and Hussein crouched flat on his back. There was a rending crash; a cloud of dust flew up. When it faded they saw that Jehangir had destroyed the gates and half the thick mud wall as well; he was now standing in a deserted square surrounded by huts. A man crept from beneath the wreckage.

      ‘What the devil did you mean by firing on us?’ shouted Gill.

      Hussein pointed, and whispered, ‘Ismail Khan.’

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