TALES OF ADVENTURE

Auckland Star, Volume LVII, Issue 162, 10 July 1926, Page 26

TALES OF ADVENTURE

MY FIRST BEAR.

UP WITH THE SUN — SMOKED OUT — HALF WAY

TO DESTRUCTION.

By GEORGE CECIL. (Specially Written for the " Auckland Star.")

"Don't think you've ever shot a bear! When will you come and shoot one!" I was at Bombay at Christmas time, and the heat , was scarcely less than that of mid July at Home. The Turkish bathlike atmosphere even affected the natives, who, as a rule, can move about or the hottest "hot weather" day without turning a hair, and, what made matters particularly exasperating, the seasoned exiles complained of the cold! Under the circumstances, the abovementioned cryptic telegram from a "forest officer," who lead a sportsman's life in the Himalayas, proved welcome. For I interpreted it into an invitation to leave the muggy "urbs primis in Indis" for mountain air, snow and ice, no* to mention the realisation of a long cherished ambition, namely, to bowl over a bear. I had shot my fill, so to speak, of small game, and I pined to achieve something big—something with a hairbreadth adventure thrown in. To-day when a couple of scars my eyebrows and a premature patch of grey hair remind mc how my wish was fulfilled, I feel very grateful to a kind Providence for coming to my aid. At the same time, I believe I would welcome a repetition of the adventure, nerveshattering though it was. There is an excitement in risking one's life when a wounded and infuriated bear and a precipice with a thousand-foot drop provide the exciting element. However, to the tale. The wire was followed by a letter, from which I gathered that my thoughtful friend had pitched his camp within a few marches of the eternal snows, and that he had "accounted for three of the beggars in a wee , '." He bade mc join him before he had "time to clear the board," and—thoughtful fellow—enclosed a route map, an' 1 intricate instructions whereby an uncomfortable journey would be rendered as little irksome as possible. In a few hours I was on the train bound for the foot of "the hills," and two days later, having overslept myself, I was awakened by the coloured porters bellowing the name of the station at which I was due. Fortunately, the train had halted at a terminus, so that I was able tv, change from pyjamas into more orthodox garments. After breakfasting, in a primitive waiting room, off the inevitable grilled "murghi" (fowl) and bananas, which seem to be the staple meal in the wilds of India, I climbed into a rattle-trap tonga and commenced the long journey to Musoorie. Bump, bump-bumpety-bump; the oddlooking canvas covered vehicle, on wheels, swayed from side to side, and the ponies, urged on by the deafening cracks of the whip and by discordant blasts on the horn, covered every inch of the stage at a hand gallop. Finally, aching in all my bones, with a head which felt that it had been split in half, and covered with dust from head to foot, I was rewarded with a glimpse of the quaint "hill station." Half an hour afterwards, I found myself at an hotel reading a note. from . the thoughtful "forest officer," in which he advised mc to stay there a day to get over the effects of the tonga drive. Taking his tip, I slept the clock round, and the next day, feeling little the worse for the experience, I set out upon the long ride which eventually brought mc to the camp. My host greeted mc with the reassuring information "that there were still a few bears left." "My 'shikari,'" said he, "is a wonder 1 If he says there are more bears, you may take your oath you'li find 'em all right." I turned in that night to dream that, instead of slaying a bear, the animal nearly slew me—and, curiously enough, the vision, as will be seen, was within an ace of being fulfilled. A Beetroot Sunrise. In camp one rises with the sun. Soon after the sky had exchanged a kaleidoscopic effect, in which the predominating note of colour was a pronounced beetroot, for a vast expanse of the loveliest azure imaginable, we had accounted for a substantial "chotta hazri" and interviewed the experienced "shikari," who, with many theatrical gesticulations, declared that within half an hour I should fire off my brand new rifle, and, possibly, "blood" my virgin hunting knife. Off we went, through a primitive little native village in which pot-bellied, coconut oiled babies lay baking in the sun, and up an almost perpendicular bridle path, on either side of which there grew great tree ferns higher than the tallest man, till we reached a collection of rocks. "Here," observed the "shikari ,, in the picturesque and verbose language of his kind, "the Heaven-born must pause and a-wait developments, in the cave which is mid-way between the first and second rock is a bear, fierce as a warrior, with fur thicker than grass, and with an eye angrier than the warring elements. Before such famous shots as the 'sahibs,' no game — unless the unnatural animal's life is charmed—can hope to escape." After this I felt that my reputation indeed was at stake and I inwardly prayed that I might be placed in a good position. The next minute my hop* was realised, for I was posted behind a bush some forty yards from the mouth of the cave. "The bear," added the "ehikari," "will make for the stones which lie yonder; it therefore follows, as the night the day, that he must fall dtad the moment the 'sahib' from across the seas fires his death-dealing weapon." Exit—The Bear. The beaters introduced burning brashwood into the bear's abode, and, after a few minutes anxious waiting, a brown beast, with two little red, angry eyes, lumbered out and sat sulkily licking his chops. "By Allah," quoth the "head beater, "this will not do. A 'sahib' who comes all the way from far-off England must not be disappointed. Move, O son of a pig, or may thy grave, "and the grave of all thy female relations forever be defiled! Bestir thyself, thou dog-faced one!" . . . The bear, which possibly had come to the conclusion that he was the subject of the native's harangue, lost no further time in doin» what was expected of him. In fact he did rather more, for, making a bee-line for the abusive black man, and coming along at a pace which I should not have thought possible, he was on him almost before I could fire. Luckily I stopped the animal with a bullet just in the nick of time, for the ; native, paralysed with fear, had

remained standing stock still from tin moment the bear had begun runninz in his direction. 6 "It Never Rains But It Pours." Aβ the creature lay where it had fallen, as still as a stone, I imagined that he might be safely left while I turned my attention to another bear which was stealing away in the direc' tion of a friendly piece of cover a hundred yards behind mc. Running at fast as I could lay my feet to the ground, I just managed to get a shot as the bear's head and shoulders disappeared between two huge boulders, and, to my joy, I hear the "shikari" shout: "Mur gya!" ("he is dead!") Within a few minutes the beast had been hauled out, admired by the beaters, and measured! The good-hearted host, who, I discovered, had stood to one side that I might have the shot, congratulated mc on my prowess. I After this agreeable interlude I waj posted on the edge of a steep "khud" (descent), where a bear had just been seen. "He's behind that sheltering rock, from which, with the help of the ruler of all things," quoth the "shikari," to ! whom the Eastern mataphor was as the breath of life, "and by your honour'i favour we will dislodge him." . . . Feeling thoroughly cock-a-hoop at the prospect of laying low bear number three, I sat, rifle in hand, anxiously waiting the crackling of the twigs which would denote the animal's exit through the bushes guarding the entrance of the cave. The beaters bellowed, lighted brushwood was thrown into the place where the bear was supposed to be concealed. Spears were grasped in case bruin should take it into his head to turn on the aggressors. After possessing my soul in patience for another five minutes, I came to the conclusion that the "shikari's" eagle eye had deceived him, and that the bear was not at home. At the same time, I had an idea that there was a bear near at hand, and that something unexpected was about to happen. And, sure enough, something did happen, for, as I felt in my cartridge bag I discovered that, but for one solitary cartridge, I had run short of ammunition. An anguished shout rent the air: "Bhago, bhago, sahib!" I did not understand what "Bhago" meant; but when, a minute later, I felt a puff of hot breath on my neck, I wished I had studied Hindustani more diligently. For, standing on its hind legs with two outspread paws dangling within three feet of my eyee, was another bear, bleeding from a wound in the head and looking daggers at mc. In a second I guessed what had happened. Evidently, instead of killing bear number one, I had knocked him s nseless for a while, and, upon coming to, the animal, being on vengeance bent, had determined to get even with mc, and, with that end in view, he had Here my lightning-like train of thought was cut short by a rifle shot and a shout of victory from the "shikari," who had come to my rescue. The bear, pausing in the . act- of grabbing mc, stopped. The respite, however, was a short one. Evidently the bullet had missed him, as also did the one which, upon recovering from the unwelcome surprise, I fired at the closest possible quarters.. The butt end of a gun being an unsuitable weapon with which to make an impression on a bear's skull, the only thing was to trust to my knife 01 to turn tail and run for dear life. Saved by a Raspberry Bush. Finding that the knife, alas, had dropped out of its sheath, I ran as I had never run before. Atlanta was not in it with mc. I seemed to skim over the broken ground, and all the time that infernal bear was gaining on mc. Suddenly I spied a haven of refuge—a mountain fog had crept up, and in another moment it would hide mc from my persistent enemy. On and on it came; and before I had gone another thirty yards the bear and I were separated. But I was not out of the wood, for, almost before I had time to realise that something was wrong, I found myself describing a parallelogram in mid-air. As I made the discovery that I had fallen down the precipice, which was hidden by the fog, my flight was arrested by a cluster of wild raspberry bushes. In a few minutes the fog lifted sufficiently for mc to take stock of the position—and to ascertain to what extent I was damaged. I found that I was within 12 feet of the top, and that by hanging on to the thickly-growing bushes I should be able to reach terra firma. But the moment I tried to move niy bruised body I also found that, both ankles being twisted and my left wrist sprained, climbing was absolutely out of the question. And, to make matteri worse, the bushes which kept mc from falling into the abyss began to part company with the soil. Nor was this all, for the bear—truculent beasthaving ascertained my whereabouts, glowered at mc from over the edge, and, worse still, began to descend. Nearer and nearer he came, picking his way carefully step by step. Finally, he halted half way, and regarded mc much as a cat does a mouse. This hesitation was his undoing, for bang!. . . A Lucky Shot. I did not know what had happened till I found myself lying on the grass, with the " shikari" fanning mc and the " forest officer " moistening my lips with brandy. However, I '.vas soon enlightened. "If I'd fired a second later you might have been where the bear is—at the bottom of the precipice. Of course, his weight, had it fallen on you, would have dislodged you. But I had to take my chance at that. Luckily he just fell" clear of you—barring those two scratches over your eyes he gave you as he passed. ,, " I further discovered that I had collapsed just before the shot was fired, and that the head beater, crawling down to where I lay, had passed a rope, hastily improvised from the native's linen clothing, under my arm-pits, after which I was hauled up to where the rest of the party had assembled. The next day, except for a vivid recollection of what had happened, I was none the worse for the adventure; by the time the scratches ii.td developed into two permanent scars, I had f° rgotten it. Meanwhile, if the narrow escape gave mc some prematurely grey hairs, it also gained mc an uncommonly fine skin, which hangs on tlie wall opposite IB* as I write.