CHAPTER X: A STRANGE HOME-COMING

Dermot dragged the girl down to the ground beside him as a shot rang out.

“I suppose they will kill us, Major Dermot,” she said calmly. “But couldn’t you manage to get away in the darkness? You know the jungle so well. Please don’t hesitate to leave me, for I should only hamper you. Won’t you go?”

Emotion choked the soldier for a moment. He gripped her arm and was about to speak when suddenly the forest on every side of them resounded to a pandemonium of noise: a chorus of wild shrieks, shots, the crashing of trampled undergrowth, the death-yells of men amid the savage screams and fierce trumpetings of a herd of elephants.

“Oh, what’s that? What terrible thing is happening?” cried the girl.

Dermot seized her and dragged her close against the trunk of the tree. In the gloom they saw men flying madly past them pursued by elephants. One wretch not ten yards from them was overtaken by a great tusker, which struck him to the ground, trampled on him, kicked and knelt upon his lifeless body until it was crushed to a pulp, then placing one forefoot on the man’s chest, wound his trunk round the legs and seized them in his mouth, tore them from the body, and threw them twenty yards away. All around similar tragedies were being enacted; for the herd of wild elephants had charged in among the attackers.

Dermot gathered the terrified girl in his arms and held her face against his breast, so that she should be spared the horror of the sights about them; but he could not shut out the terrible sounds, the agonised shrieks, the despairing yells of the wretches who were meeting with an awful fate. He remained motionless against the tree, hoping to escape the notice of the fierce animals, whom he could see plunging through the jungle in pursuit of their prey, for they were hunting the men down. Suddenly one elephant came straight towards them with trunk uplifted. Dermot put the girl behind him and raised his rifle; but with a low murmur from its throat the animal lowered its trunk, and he recognised it.

“Thank God! we are saved,” he said. “It’s Badshah. He has brought his herd to our rescue.”

The girl clung to him convulsively and scarcely heard him; for the tumult in the jungle still continued, though the terrible pursuit seemed to be passing farther away. The giant avengers were still crashing through the jungle after their prey; and an occasional heartrending shriek told of another luckless wretch who had met his doom.

Dermot gently disengaged the clinging hands and repeated his words. The girl, still shuddering, made an effort and rose to her knees.

Dermot went forward and laid his hand on the elephant’s trunk.

“Thank you, Badshah,” he said. “I am in your debt again.”

The tip of the trunk touched his face in a gentle caress. Then he stepped back and said: “Now we’ll go at once, Miss Daleham. We won’t stop this time until we reach your bungalow.”

The girl had already recovered her courage and stood beside him.

“But you are wounded. There’s blood on your face and on your neck. Are you badly hurt?”

Dermot laughed reassuringly.

“To tell you the truth I had forgotten all about it. They are only scratches. The skin is cut, that’s all. Come, we mustn’t delay any longer.”

At a word from him Badshah knelt. He hurriedly threw the pad on the elephant’s back and made him rise so that the surcingle rope could be fixed. Then he brought the animal to his knees again and lifted Noreen on to the pad. But before he took his own seat he searched the undergrowth around the glade and found many corpses of men almost unrecognisable as human bodies, so crushed and battered were they. From the number that he came upon it was evident that most of their assailants had been slain. But all the elephants except his had disappeared; and the sounds of the massacre were dying away.

Slinging his rifle he climbed on to the pad; and Badshah rose and went swiftly along a track that seemed to Dermot to lead towards Malpura. He did not attempt to guide the elephant, but placed himself so that his body would shield the girl from the danger of being struck by overhanging boughs. He held her firmly as they were borne through the darkness that now filled the forest; for the swift-coming Indian night had fallen.

“Keep well down, Miss Daleham,” he said. “You must be on your guard against being swept off the pad by the low branches.”

“Oh, Major Dermot,” cried the girl with a shudder, “have all these terrible things really happened in the last few hours or has it all been a hideous nightmare?”

“Please try not to think of them,” he answered. “You are safe now.”

“Yes; but you? You have to face these dangers again, since you are so much in the jungle. Oh, my forest that I thought a fairyland! That such terrible things can happen in it!”

“I can assure you that they are very unusual,” he replied with a cheery laugh. “You have been very fortunate; for you have crammed more excitement and adventure into one day than I have seen previously in all my time in the jungle.”

“It all seems so incredible,” she said. “Did you really mean that Badshah brought his herd to our rescue? But I know he did. I heard him call them. When he ran off I thought that he was frightened and had abandoned us. But I did him a great injustice.”

Her companion was silent for a moment. Then he said:

“Look here, Miss Daleham, we had better not tell that tale of Badshah quite in that way. It would seem impossible, and no European would credit it. Natives would, of course, for as it is they seem to look upon him as a god already.”

“Yes; but you think as I do, don’t you?” she exclaimed in surprise. “Surely you believe that he did bring the other elephants to save us.”

“Yes, I do. I know that he did, for I—well, between ourselves I have seen him do even more wonderful things. But others wouldn’t believe us, and I don’t want to emphasise the marvellous part of the story. I’d rather people thought that the dacoits, or whoever those men were who attacked us, accidentally fell foul of a herd of wild elephants.”

“Perhaps you are right. But we know. It will be just our own secret and Badshah’s,” she said dreamily.

Then she relapsed into silence. In spite of the terrible experiences through which she had just passed she felt happy at the pressure of Dermot’s arm about her and the sensation of being utterly alone with him in a world of their own, as they were borne on through the darkness. Fatigue made her drowsy, and the swaying motion of the elephant’s pace lulled her to sleep.

She woke suddenly and for an instant wondered where she was. Then remembrance came and she felt the warm blood mantle her face as she realised that she was nestling in Dermot’s arms. But, drowsy and content, she did not move. Looking up she saw the stars overhead. They were out of the forest.

“I must have been asleep,” she said. “Where are we?”

“At Malpura. There are the lights of your bungalow,” replied Dermot. He said it almost with regret, for he had found the long miles through the forest almost short, while the girl nestled confidingly, though unconsciously, in his arms and he held her against his heart.

As the elephant neared the house Dermot gave a loud shout.

Instantly the verandah filled with men who rushed out of the lighted rooms and tried to pierce the darkness. A little distance from the bungalow a large number of coolies, seated on the ground, rose up and pressed forward to the road. From behind the house several white-clad servants ran out.

Dermot shouted again and called out Daleham’s name.

There was a frantic rush down the verandah steps.

“Hurrah! it’s the Major,” cried a planter.

“And—and—yes, Miss Daleham’s with him. Hooray!” yelled another. “Good old Dermot!” came in Payne’s voice.

Through the throng of shouting, excited men the girl’s brother broke.

“Noreen! Noreen! My God, are you there? Are you safe?” he cried frantically.

Almost before Badshah sank to the ground, the girl, with a little sob, sprang into her brother’s arms and clung to him, while Dermot was dragged off the pad by the eager hands of a dozen men who thumped him on the back, pulled him from one to another, and nearly shook his arm off. The servants had brought out lamps to light up the scene.

From the verandah steps Chunerbutty looked jealously on. He had been relieved at knowing that the girl had returned, but in his heart he cursed the man who had saved her. He was roughly thrust aside by Parry, who dashed up the steps, ran into the house, and emerged a minute later holding a large tumbler in his hand.

“Where is he, where is he? Look you, I know what he wants. Here’s what will do you good, Major,” he shouted.

Dermot laughed and, taking the tumbler, drank its contents gratefully, though their strength made him cough, for the bibulous Celt had mixed it to his own taste.

“Major, Major, how can we thank you?” said Fred Daleham, coming to him with his sister clinging to his arm.

But she had to release him and shake hands over and over again with all the planters and receive their congratulations and expressions of delight at seeing her safe and sound. Meanwhile her brother was endeavouring in the hubbub to thank her rescuer. But Dermot refused to listen.

“Oh, there’s nothing to make a fuss about I assure you, Daleham,” he said. “It was just that I had the luck to be the first to follow the raiders. Any one else would have done the same.”

“Oh, nonsense, old man,” broke in Payne, clapping him on the back. “Of course we’d all have liked to do it, but none of us could have tracked the scoundrels like you could. How did you do it?”

“Yes; tell us what happened, Major.”

“How did you find her, Dermot?”

“What occurred, Miss Daleham?”

“Did they put up a fight, sir?”

The eager mob of men poured a torrent of questions on the girl and her rescuer.

“Easy on, you fellows,” said Dermot, laughing. “Give us time. We can’t answer you all at once.”

“Yes, give them a chance, boys. Don’t crowd,” cried one planter.

“Here! We can’t see them. Let’s have some light,” shouted another.

“Where are those servants? Bring out all the lamps!”

“Lamps be hanged! Let’s have a decent blaze. We’ll have a bonfire.”

Several of the younger planters ran to the stable and outhouses and brought piles of straw, old boxes, anything that would burn. Others despatched coolies to the factory near by to fetch wood, broken chests, and other fuel. Several bonfires were made and the flames lit up the scene with a blaze of light.

“Why, you’re wounded, Dermot!” exclaimed Payne.

“Oh, no. Just a scratch.”

“Yes, he is wounded, but he pretends it’s nothing,” said Noreen. “Do see if it’s anything serious, Mr. Payne.”

“I assure you it’s nothing,” protested the soldier, resisting eager and well-meant attempts to drag him into the house and tend his hurts by force. But attention was diverted when a planter cried:

“Good Heavens! what’s this? The elephant’s tusk is covered with blood.”

“Tusk! Why, he’s blood to the eyes,” exclaimed another.

For the leaping flames revealed the fact that Badshah’s tusk, trunk, and legs were covered with freshly-dried blood.

“Good Heavens! he’s been wading in it.”

“What’s that on his tusk? Why, it’s fragments of flesh. Oh, the deuce!”

There were exclamations of surprise and horror from the white men. But the mass of coolies, who had been pressing forward to stare, drew back into the darkness and muttered to each other.

“The god! The god! Who can withstand the god?” they whispered.