Gordon Casserly

We sight a rogue—A sudden onslaught—A wild elephant's attack—Shooting under difficulties—Stopping a rush—Repeated attacks—An invulnerable foe—Darkness stops the pursuit—A council of war—Picking up the trail—A muckna—A female elephant—Photographing a lady—A good sitter—A stampede—A gallant Rajput—Attacking on foot—A hazardous feat—A narrow escape—Final charge—A bivouac in the forest—Dangers of the night—A long chase—Planter hospitality—Another stampede—A career of crime—Eternal hope—A king-cobra—Abandoning the pursuit—An unrepentant villain—In the moment of danger.

Khartoum stepped along at her usual deliberate pace through the jungle, occasionally raising her trunk to sweep the leaves off a branch and cram them into her mouth, or plucking a tuft of long grass to brush away the troublesome flies. On her neck the mahout swayed to the motion, while I sat nursing my heavy ·470 cordite rifle and talking to my orderly, Draj Khan, seated behind me on the pad. He carried a ·303 carbine. We were passing through a patch of thin forest bare of undergrowth, when Bechan pulled up suddenly and whispered:

"Jungli hathi! (A wild elephant)."

About sixty yards ahead a large tusker was standing apparently half asleep under the trees, its right side towards us. I wondered if, since it was alone, I could consider it an outlaw which it would be justifiable to shoot. The probabilities were, as there were no signs of a herd in the vicinity, that it was a rogue. While I was mentally debating the question I slipped a couple of solid cartridges into my rifle. As I did so the elephant turned its head slowly and I saw that it had only one tusk.

"Sahib! Sahib! wuh budmash hai! (It is the rogue!") whispered Bechan excitedly.

At that moment it caught sight of us. Without hesitation, it turned and charged straight at us. There was no doubt now of its being a rogue; and probably it was Jhansi's assailant and the murderer of the Gurkha. I wished to wait until it was near enough for me to make sure of a fatal head-shot; but Khartoum became alarmed and tried to bolt. The mahout did his best to stop her.

"Shoot, Sahib, shoot! My elephant will not stand," he cried, beating her savagely with the iron ankus.

So, as I could not get a shot at the head as the animal came through the trees at us, I fired at its shoulder in the hope of laming it and bringing it to a stand, so that I could finish it at close quarters. But it did not seem to feel the bullet and never checked in its stride. I was being favoured with a spectacle which it is not given to many sportsmen in India to witness. Sanderson says of it that

"the wild elephant's attack is one of the noblest sights of the chase. A grander animated object than a wild elephant in full charge can hardly be imagined. The cocked ears and broad forehead present an immense frontage; the head is held high with the trunk curled between the tusks to be uncurled in the moment of attack; the massive forelegs come down with the force and regularity of ponderous machinery; and the whole figure is foreshortened, and appears to double in size with each advancing stride. The wild elephant's onslaught is as dignified as it seems overwhelming."

I confess that at the moment I was little disposed to admire the spectacle. Khartoum plunged and swayed until I was nearly shot off her back. If she stampeded our position would be extremely dangerous, for we would probably be swept off her back by the branches and creepers; and to be thrown to the ground in front of the pursuing rogue meant a certain and awful death. Bechan, hammering furiously at Khartoum's thick skull, yelled at me to fire; and my excited orderly kept urging me to "kill the budmash." I fired again, and the tusker, checked in his rush, swung off to one side. As he passed us among the trees, I gave him a third bullet in the ribs at forty yards. The report of my rifle had an almost instantaneously calming effect on Khartoum. She desisted from her efforts to bolt; and when I ordered the mahout to follow the fleeing rogue, she obeyed him and moved off quietly. We came on him about a quarter of a mile away in much denser jungle. He was standing sideways to us; and I took a steady shot at his ear, which should have been fatal. But instead of dropping to it, he swung round and charged us again. I told my orderly to aim at his knee, while I fired at his forehead. The two shots rang out together; but the apparently invulnerable brute only turned and fled. He was, however, limping badly; and I quickened his flight with another bullet. This time Khartoum had stood like a rock. We urged her on after him and overtook him partially concealed behind a stout tree-trunk. He seemed on the point of collapsing on the ground. But the moment he caught sight of us he charged again. My orderly and I aimed at the same spots as before and fired together. But the brute bore a charmed life. He swung off and dashed into thick jungle, but not before I could get another shot at him. The undergrowth closed around him and hid him from our sight. We followed at once on his track and found the bushes and grass splashed with blood. Every moment I expected to come upon him lying dead or dying. None of our shots had missed him; so he carried eight bullets from my heavy rifle and two from Draj Khan's carbine. It seemed impossible that he could live long. The trail was an easy one to follow and we found no difficulty in distinguishing it from old tracks; for he was evidently limping badly. One of his forelegs seemed to be useless; and where he had passed across a dry river-bed we found the impressions of three sound feet and the marks of the fourth trailing helplessly. But for all that we did not overtake him until we had covered three miles. We came upon him standing head towards us under a tree in thorny undergrowth. We stopped Khartoum about thirty yards from him; and he never moved as we took deliberate aim. We fired; and the shock of my heavy bullet in the skull drove him back on his haunches in the undergrowth. But again he recovered his footing and dashed away before we could get in a second shot. I was absolutely amazed at his tenacity of life and began to think that it was useless wasting lead on him; but we forced our way through the thorns and followed until the sun sank low in the sky. Then, marking a spot where the trail led across a broad and empty river-bed, I gave the order to turn Khartoum's head towards camp, resolved to take up the pursuit next day. I thought it highly probable that we should find the animal dead; for he now had twelve bullets in him.

At the time the detachment was inhabiting a stockaded post we had built in the jungle; and the men were out practising bush warfare in the forest every day. The spot where I first encountered the rogue was hardly a mile from this post. It was imperative that I should find and finally dispose of him, for I could not expose my sepoys to the danger of an unexpected meeting with him while engaged in their work; and the jungle would be absolutely unsafe while he was in the neighbourhood. He was almost undoubtedly the elephant which had wounded Jhansi and killed the Gurkha; and there were probably many more crimes to his account. His first unprovoked attack on us, and the daring of his repeated charges after being wounded, showed that he was a vicious and formidable brute; and the forest would be uninhabitable until he had been slain or driven far away.

When we reached camp that night I held a council of war with Captain Balderston and our native officers. It was resolved that I should take out with me next day one of our subhedars, a fine old Rajput named Sohanpal Singh, and his orderly on a second elephant. We determined to bring blankets and food with us, so that we could follow the trail for days if necessary, bivouacking wherever night found us. I hoped that, badly wounded as the animal was, the pursuit would not be a long one; but I was prepared to carry it on for days, if necessary.

At daybreak we started out, Sohanpal Singh and his orderly on Dundora, while Draj Khan and I led the way on Khartoum. The three were armed with Government ·303 rifles, while I had my cordite rifle. Our blankets were strapped on the pads, and our haversacks were filled with food. I carried a loaf of bread and a tin of corned beef in mine; while my Thermos flask was filled with limejuice and boiled water. Thus equipped, we started out amidst the cheers of the sepoys, who had been deeply interested in the account of the fights we had had on the previous day. Our route lay by a jungle village called Rungamutti, two miles from our stockade; and a couple of hours after we had passed it we picked up the elephant's trail.

The jungle across the river-bed where we had stopped the pursuit was at first fairly open; and I hoped that we should find our quarry in it. We came on the spot where he had passed the night. The grass was pressed down all around and was covered with blood. This was encouraging; and we went on full of hope. Suddenly through the trees we caught sight of an elephant standing sideways to us. The mahouts halted their animals and we brought our rifles to the ready.

But Bechan whispered, "That is not the budmash, Sahib. See, it has no tusks."

It was a muckna or tuskerless male. These are generally timid beasts, being constantly bullied in the herds by the males provided by Nature with weapons of offence. As soon as this one caught sight of us it bolted away through the jungle. We watched its headlong flight and then continued on the trail. A mile or two further on the jungle had the appearance of an English wood and the ground was carpeted with ferns. In an open glade we saw another elephant. It was a female; and, although it turned its head and looked at us, it did not evince any alarm. So I determined to try to secure a photograph of it. I handed my rifle to Draj Khan and took up my Kodak. The wild elephant stood still while I opened and adjusted the camera and pressed the bulb. As soon as the click of the shutter announced that the operation was over, she turned and moved slowly off into the jungle, while I waved my hat to her and expressed my thanks for her courtesy in waiting until I had taken her portrait. Unfortunately I had been too far off to secure a really good photograph, which was to be regretted, for such pictures are, naturally, extremely rare.

After her departure we moved on again. The forest grew denser; and the thick and entangled undergrowth delayed our progress; for, of course, a tame elephant with a pad and men on her back cannot slip through it as easily as an unencumbered wild one can do. So we were continually obliged to make detours and could not follow the trail closely.

About eleven o'clock in the morning a sudden crash in the jungle a hundred yards ahead of us startled our elephants. Before the mahouts could stop them they swung round and stampeded. It was my first experience of being bolted with; and it was decidedly unpleasant. Dundora, which had been behind, was now leading, and dashed through the trees, followed closely by Khartoum. As the noise had apparently been caused by the rogue, I tried to turn round on the pad, ready to fire. And doing so, while at the same time endeavouring to hold on and dodge the boughs and creepers overhead, was no easy task. Over and over again I was nearly swept off. Luckily the mahouts soon got their elephants in hand and stopped them. Then we cautiously advanced again, expecting every moment that the rogue would charge out on us. But when we reached the spot whence the noise had proceeded we found by the trail that he had been lying down and, startled by our appearance, had risen and fled. We urged our elephants forward. The chase was becoming exciting. We followed as fast as we could go, hoping every minute to catch sight of the quarry. The jungle was growing more difficult and we made slow progress.

At last, after three hours, we heard him. He was concealed in a dense thicket of thorny undergrowth. We skirted cautiously round it, hoping to see him and get a shot. But, although we could hear him, he was completely hidden. At length my native officer said:

"Sahib, why should we men be afraid of an animal? Let us attack him on foot."

The plucky old man had, in his own country and armed only with a sword, ridden at a tiger; but he did not realise that we were now facing a far more dangerous foe. His proposal was madness. The jungle was almost impenetrable, and we could not see five yards ahead in it. But before I could dissuade him the gallant old Rajput slid from Dundora's back, followed by his orderly, and walked towards the thicket. It was useless to try and stop him; so, cursing his foolhardiness, I dropped to the ground with Draj Khan. As I had the best rifle I pushed the others aside and got in front. But I had to reckon with the devotion of the native soldier for his British officer. They tried to prevent me from taking the post of danger and pulled me back. We had a ridiculous struggle for precedence, which was liable to be turned into a tragedy by the rogue's appearance at any moment. With difficulty I had my own way; though I certainly felt no desire to go first into what I knew was a mad undertaking. But it was only when I tried to force my way into the thicket that I fully realised our folly. The tangled vegetation was composed of thickly interlaced thorny bushes; I can only compare it to strong fishing-nets studded freely with hooks. Torn and bleeding from a dozen scratches I tried to worm my way in. Then to my horror I heard the rogue bursting through it at us. I was pinned down by the thorny branches, bound around by pliant creepers, unable to stand upright or even raise my rifle. I certainly thought that my last hour had come; for, securely pinioned by the cruel vegetation, I was helpless. The men behind me were in the same plight. But at that moment the mahouts saved us. Realising our extreme danger, they bravely urged their elephants into the thicket after us. The rogue at the sight of them stopped dead. Though he was not five yards from me, I could not distinguish him clearly, so dense was the undergrowth, but could only make out portions of his body through the tangle. He retreated a few paces, and we tried to scramble out. I could not turn; but shoving my legs out backwards, I tore myself free from the vicious thorns and retired face to the foe. My rifle was at full cock and I was afraid that the triggers might be caught by the twigs, but I dared not lower the hammers. Foot by foot I forced my way back slowly and painfully. When I reached the edge of the thicket, my men, who had extricated themselves, seized me and dragged me out. We looked at each other. I don't know what colour I was; but my men were as nearly pale as it is possible for a native to be. Even my brave old subhedar's courage was shaken. He had lost all desire to enter the thicket again, for the danger had been really great. Had the rogue not stopped of his own accord nothing could have saved me, and probably the others, from a most unpleasant death. Of course I ought never to have attempted to enter the undergrowth, as I had fully realised the foolhardiness of it; but I could not allow my sepoys to believe that I was afraid. However, everybody now had quite enough of the attack on foot and gladly mounted the elephants. We did so one by one, the others standing with rifles ready to repel an assault. We circled round the thicket cautiously, hoping to find an easier line of approach. Suddenly our vicious antagonist came charging through the dense undergrowth straight at Khartoum. I halted her ten yards from the edge of the covert. I could vaguely make out the rogue's vast bulk bursting through the tangle, and raised my rifle. Half his body was clear of the jungle, the head thrown up, the trunk curled and the single tusk pointed menacingly at me, when I fired straight at his forehead. The force of the blow drove him back on his haunches into the undergrowth; while the native officer and the two orderlies poured a volley into his side, one of the men getting in a second shot. I could not see him clearly enough to give him the other barrel, and I expected to hear him collapse at last. But, inconceivable as it seems, he recovered himself, swung about and bolted out of the other side of the thicket. I could hardly believe it; but we heard him plainly enough as he dashed off through the jungle. I began to think that it really was useless to waste lead on him; but we followed. He was lost to sight; but the trail was plain. I looked at my watch; it was two o'clock in the afternoon. From that hour until night fell we kept up the pursuit. Obliged to desist owing to the darkness, I determined to bivouac in the forest. We were now too far from the camp to return to it. So we made our way along a river-bed until, near the foot of the hills, we found water in it. Then dismounting we let our elephants drink and prepared for the night. As the tracks of wild animals abounded in the sand near the edge of the water, for the stream disappeared into the ground here and it was the last drinking-place for miles, I ordered fires to be lit around us; for, in the dark, wild elephants attracted by Dundora and Khartoum might rush over us, or a hungry tiger might be unable to resist the temptation of an easy meal provided by sleeping men. My companions ate the chupatties or flour cakes they carried with them; while I dined on my bread and preserved meat. Then, telling off one of our number to keep watch in turn, we rolled ourselves in our blankets and lay down to sleep. A chill wind blew down from the mountains and the damp sand made a cold bed; but in a few minutes everyone but the sentry and I was asleep. I heard our elephants chained on the bank tearing the branches from the trees near them. A sudden spurt of flame from the fires lit up their huge bodies, which were vague and shadowy in the flickering light. I looked at the stars overhead and the faint outline of the mountains towering over us, until at last fatigue overpowered me and I slept.

At daybreak next morning we turned out. On going to wash in the stream we found the "pugs"[5] of a panther in the sand about fifty yards from our bivouac, while a couple of hundred yards farther away the huge footprints of elephants were plainly visible; so our fires had probably saved us from some unwelcome visitors. I had to make a frugal breakfast on the heel of the loaf and the last fragments of tinned meat, washed down by a drink from the stream. The blankets were rolled up and strapped on the elephants' backs; and we started to pick up the trail. We found it without difficulty and followed it all day. It led us towards the south away from the hills. But we could not come up with the rogue. Night found us in the vicinity of a tea garden, the manager of which I had met once; so I determined to claim his hospitality. When we reached his bungalow I learned that he had ridden over to a neighbouring estate, but was expected back to dinner. His native overseers took charge of my party and found them food and shelter. After a long wait in the bungalow I yielded to the persuasions of the owner's servant and ate the excellent dinner he provided for me; then I lay down in the guest-room and fell asleep. At midnight I was awakened by the return of my unwitting host, who, however, made me thoroughly welcome when he discovered me. And next morning before I started off on the pursuit again he loaded me with supplies.

To record the incidents of what proved a long, weary and fruitless chase would fill a volume. For nine days more we followed the trail, never far behind the rogue but never catching sight of him. He led us first into the dense and tropical vegetation of the jungles around Rajabhatkawa, where we forced our way through luxuriant tree-ferns, their undersides studded thick with long curved thorns. On the second day we were passing through tall elephant grass with waving plumes that nodded high over our heads. We followed a path made by the passage of wild animals. The two orderlies were on foot in front, picking up the trail, when we heard, fifty yards ahead, the rogue crashing suddenly through the jungle. The startled men turned and ran towards our elephants which, alarmed at the sight of their terror, turned sharp and stampeded. Having been leading, I now found myself looking down the muzzle of Sohanpal Singh's rifle as he swung round ready to fire over Dundora's tail if the rogue chased us. Luckily in the tall grass there was no danger of our being swept off the pads; and the mahouts soon stopped their animals and brought them back. But when we got clear of the cover we found that it lined the bank of a broad, empty river-bed across which our prey had escaped while our elephants had been retreating. In the sand we found his unmistakable track with the useless foreleg dragging helplessly over the ground. Had our animals not bolted at the critical moment we would have reached the river-bank in time to have a clear shot at him as he crossed in the open. For the remainder of the chase we never got so close to him again.

Wherever night found us we bivouacked; unless a lucky chance brought us near a tea garden, where I sought the planters' unfailing hospitality. Men whose names I did not know welcomed me with the cordiality of old friends and made me and my train comfortable for the night. I found that I was known to most by reputation as the lunatic who had walked up to a notorious rogue elephant with only a camera in his hand. All gladly aided me in my venture; for I learned that the brute I was pursuing was infamous throughout the district. Everyone had a tale to tell of him, and never to his credit. On one garden he had entered the coolies' village and, finding a native baby in his path, had picked it up in his trunk and hurled it on to the roof of a hut. Alarmed by its cries the parents had rushed out only to be met and trampled to death by the murderous brute. On another garden the manager and a friend were strolling in the dusk along a road within two hundred yards of the bungalow. Smoking and chatting, they were all unconscious of the fact that this rogue was stalking silently towards them intent on murder. Suddenly the planter's terrier saw it and rushed barking at it. Frightened as all elephants are of dogs, the animal turned off the road and plunged in among the tea bushes; and it was only then that his intended victims perceived him. My bullets were by no means the first that he had received. He had been shot at and wounded over and over again. One planter advised me, if I eventually succeeded in killing him, to exploit his body as a lead mine.

Hope springs eternal in the sportsman's breast; and day after day I set out at dawn cheered by the expectation that surely this day must bring the chase to a successful conclusion. As we started at five or six o'clock each morning and kept on the move until 6 p.m., we must have covered altogether well over two hundred miles in the pursuit, as we averaged a mile and a half in the hour. The rogue seemed to know that we were on his track and changed his direction frequently. Strange were the sights I saw and varied the wild jungles we traversed. Sometimes for hours we pushed our way through brakes of tough cane. Sometimes we passed for miles under huge trees in grassy land. Once in the forest Khartoum stopped short so suddenly that I was nearly thrown off her pad. As she backed away the mahout pointed to a great snake twelve or thirteen feet long wriggling away from almost under her forelegs. The glimpses I got of it showed it to be the terrible king-cobra.

For the first four days of the chase we had found no droppings left by the fleeing elephant. Then we came on some, small, hard and black with coagulated blood. And only on the sixth day did we discover traces of where he had begun to eat again. And one morning we passed a patch of cultivation in the jungle and a peasant who told us that at daybreak he had found a lame single-tusker elephant feeding on his crops. When the sun rose it moved on again without discovering the man.

At last on the twelfth day since our first encounter I was obliged to give up the chase. We found his trail leading across the wide and rapid river, the Torsa, which pours down its flood from the mountains of Bhutan. My men and animals were worn out by the unceasing pursuit. Although the former suffered less than I did from the want of food, for every village supplied their wants and I had to depend on the kind charity of the planters, yet the irregular meals and the strain told on them. They were not spurred on by the same eagerness to kill the rogue as I. But greatly disappointed as I was at being unable to compass his death, yet I thought that at least we had rid our jungles of his dangerous presence; so, sadly and reluctantly, I yielded to my followers' entreaties and turned our elephants' heads towards home.

We really had deserved better fortune. We had done our best to kill the rogue, and nothing but the most astonishing fortune had saved him. One bullet out of the many half an inch to one side or the other would have given us the victory. And we had shot calmly and steadily. I was sure that not one of our bullets had missed him, which of course was not astonishing, as they had all been fired at the closest range. Yet I have seen a man miss a fourteen-hand sambhur at ten yards. But with this elephant I knew that every shot had struck. I have never heard of so long and continuous a pursuit of one animal as ours had been. But the fact remained that with ten solid bullets from my heavy rifle, and seven from the Lee-Enfields, the brute still lived to mock us, and to do worse. For three weeks from the day when we ended the chase on the banks of the Torsa the rogue was back again in our jungles and attacked the tame elephants of an Indian Civil Servant near Buxa Road Station. Needless to say, I was off again after him the moment I heard of this fresh outrage. But all in vain. And a few months afterwards while I was lying dangerously ill in Buxa the brute surprised a Bhuttia and his wife in the jungle three miles from Santrabari and trampled the woman to death; and, for aught I know, still carrying our bullets he yet lives to terrorise the forest. May we meet again! And yet, when I think how narrowly I escaped an agonising death under his terrible feet, I should perhaps be thankful that the chances of our meeting are small; for hundreds of miles of India now divide us.

It is fortunate that in sudden danger one has not time to think; for if, in the nerve-trying moment when a man stands facing the onrush of a charging elephant, a vivid imagination painted to his eyes the awful fate in store for him should the bullet fail to strike home, the rifle would drop from his shaking fingers. But though in anticipation the heart beats quickly and the breath comes fast, yet when the instant of danger comes the nerves turn to steel and the hand never falters. A tiger is not always a formidable foe; and one generally meets him on advantageous terms. But the wild elephant's charge must be met on ground of his own choosing; and the odds are perhaps in his favour. Yet the man who has once stopped him in his headlong rush will long to do battle with his kind again; and the recollections of the peril escaped acts only as a spur.