The Cliff Climbers<br />A Sequel to "The Plant Hunters" by Mayne Reid (best chinese ebook reader .TXT) 📗
- Author: Mayne Reid
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This time the elephant paid no attention to the dog. It was upon the hunters alone that its eyes were fixed; and towards them its vindictive designs were now specially directed. It had been close upon their heels, as they ran over the open ground, and distinctly saw them ascending into the tree. Indeed, so near was it, that both Karl and Caspar were once more obliged to let go their guns, in order that they might have both hands free for climbing. Otherwise they might have been too late to get out of reach, and the least delay on their part might have been fatal to one or both.
Karl was the last to climb up; and just as he lifted his feet from a branch to set them on one higher up, the rogue twisted his trunk around the former, and snapped it in two, as if it had been only a slender reed.
But Karl, with the others, was now beyond his reach; and all three congratulated themselves on once more having escaped from a danger that was nothing short of death itself.
If possible, the elephant was now more enraged than ever. It had not only been a second time baulked in its vengeance, but had received three fresh bullet-wounds; which, though mere scratches upon the skin of its huge cranium, were sore enough to irritate it to an extreme degree. Uttering its shrill, trumpet-like screech, it flourished its proboscis high in the air; and seizing the branches that were within its reach, it snapped them off from the main stem as if they had been tiny twigs.
In a short time the tree, which had been furnished with low-spreading limbs, was completely stripped of these to a height of nearly twenty-feet from the ground; while the space underneath had become strewn with twigs, leaves, and broken branches, crushed into a litter under the broad, ponderous hooves of the mammoth as he kept moving incessantly over them.
Not content with stripping the tree of its branches, the old tusker seized hold of its trunk—lapping his own trunk as far as he could around it—and commenced tugging at it, as if he had hopes of being able to drag it up by the roots.
Perceiving after trial that this feat was beyond his power, he relaxed his hold, and then set about another experiment—that of pushing down the tree with his shoulder.
Although he succeeded in causing the tree to tremble, he soon became satisfied that it stood firm enough to resist all his strength, great as it was: and under this conviction he at length desisted from the attempt.
He showed no sign, however, of any intention to leave the ground; but, on the contrary, took his stand under the tree: since the very opposite was the determination which he had formed in his mind.
Although confident that they were in security, our adventurers were anything but exultant. They saw that they were only safe for the time; and, that although their dreaded adversary might after a while withdraw and leave them free to descend, still there could be no security for the future. They had now less hope of being able to destroy this powerful enemy: as they had only one charge left for their guns, and that might not be sufficient to take away his life. The spilling of their powder by the elephant itself seemed like a piece of strategy on his part, leaving them in a sad dilemma.
Inside any house they might build, they would be no better protected against him than on the open ground: for the rogue had proved himself capable of demolishing the strongest walls they might construct; and to be out of his reach, they would be obliged to keep eternally among the tops of the trees, and lead the life of monkeys or squirrels—which would be a very disagreeable kind of existence.
Just then an idea occurred to Caspar that offered them an alternative to this unpleasant prospect of an arboreal life. He bethought him of the cave in which they had killed the bear. It could only be reached by a ladder, and would of course be inaccessible to the elephant. Once out of their present dilemma, they might seek refuge there.
The idea about the cave was a good one, and gave them some little comfort in the midst of their tribulation.
Still, it was not much; for although they would be safe enough while in the cavern, they could not accomplish anything there. The want of light would hinder them from working at the ladders; and while cutting the timber out of which to make them, and every hour that they might be engaged upon them, they would be exposed to the attacks of their implacable enemy.
The prospect was sufficiently discouraging—even with the knowledge that the cave would offer them a safe asylum to which they could retreat whenever pursued.
As the elephant remained comparatively tranquil for a length of time, these thoughts of future operations had engaged their attention. Confident in their present security, they were not troubled by the fear of any immediate danger.
Very soon, however, this confidence began to forsake them. How long were they going to be kept in the tree? That was a question that now presented itself; and as the time passed, became a source of uneasiness.
Though none of them could answer this question, yet all could understand that the siege promised to be a long one—perhaps much longer than that which had so lately been raised: for the rogue, inspired by a rage profound and implacable, exhibited in his sullen look a determination to stand his ground for an indefinite period of time. Seeing this, our adventurers once more became uneasy. Not only was their situation irksome—from the fact of their having to sit astride slender branches—but should the siege be continued, they would be subjected to that danger peculiar to all people besieged—the danger of starvation. Even at the outset all three were as hungry as wolves. They had eaten but a very light breakfast, and nothing since: for they had not found time to cook dinner. It was now late in the afternoon; and should the enemy continue there all night, they would have to go to bed supperless. Ah! to bed indeed. Perhaps there would be neither bed nor sleep that night: for how could they slumber upon those hard branches? Should they lose consciousness for a moment, they would drop off, and tumble down upon their sleepless besieger! Even should they tie themselves in the tree, to go to sleep upon such narrow couches would be out of the question.
Thus, then, they saw no prospect of either supper or sleep for that night. But there was another appetite now annoying them far worse than either hunger or longing for sleep. It was the desire to drink. The rough and varied exercise which they had been compelled to take since starting in the morning—climbing trees, and skulking through pathless jungles—combined with the varied emotions which their repeated perils had called up—all had a tendency to produce thirst; and thirst they now felt in an extreme degree. It was not lessened by the sight of the water shining beneath them. On the contrary, this only increased the craving to an extent that was almost unendurable.
For a considerable time they bore the pain, without any hope of being able to get relieved of it; and with the lake glistening before their eyes under the clear sunlight, and the current gently gliding through the straits underneath, they could realise, in something more than fancy, what must have been the terrible sufferings of poor Tantalus.
After submitting to this infliction for a considerable length of time, an exclamation escaping from Caspar drew upon him the attention of the others.
“Dunder und blitzen!” cried he; “what have we been thinking about all this time? The three of us sitting here choking with thirst, and a river of water within our reach!”
“Within our reach? I wish it were, Caspar,” rejoined Karl, in rather a desponding tone.
“Certainly it is within our reach. Look here!”
As Caspar spoke, he held out his copper powder-flask, now nearly empty. Karl did not yet quite comprehend him.
“What is to hinder us from letting this down,” he inquired, “and drawing it up again full of water? Nothing. Have you a piece of string about you, Ossy?”
“Yes, sahib, I have,” briskly replied the shikaree, at the same time drawing a roll of hempen twist out of the breast of his cotton shirt, and holding it out towards the young hunter.
“Long enough, it is,” said Caspar, taking the cord; which the next moment he attached around the neck of the flask. After pouring the powder into his bullet-pouch, he permitted the flask to drop down till it became immersed under the current. Allowing it to remain there, till it had become filled with water, he drew it up again; and with a congratulatory exclamation presented it to Karl, telling him to drink to his heart’s content. This injunction Karl obeyed without the slightest reluctance.
The flask was soon emptied; and once more let down and re-filled, and again emptied; and this series of operations was continued, until all were satisfied, and there was no longer a thirsty individual in the top of that tree.
Having by Caspar’s ingenious artifice obtained as much water as they wanted, the besieged felt better able to endure their irksome situation. They were resigning themselves with as much philosophy as they could command to bear it a little longer, when to their great astonishment they were treated to more water than they wanted, and from a source as curious as was unexpected.
Whether the elephant had taken a hint from seeing the flask plunged down into the water, or whether the idea had occurred to it without being suggested by anything in particular, it would be difficult to say. Certain it is, that just after the last flask-full had been pulled up, and before the eddying ripples had subsided from the surface, the rogue was seen to make a rush into the water, at the same time deeply submerging his proboscis, as if about to take a drink.
For some moments he remained in a stationary attitude, apparently filling his capacious stomach with the fluid.
There was no reason why he should not be as thirsty as themselves; and the spectators in the tree had no other thought, than that the great quadruped had waded into the pool simply for the purpose of quenching his thirst.
There was something about his movements, however, and the style in which he had set about sucking up the water, which betrayed a different determination; and it was not long before this was evinced by a performance which, under other circumstances, might have evoked laughter from those who witnessed it. In this instance, however, the spectators were themselves the victims of the joke—if joke it might be termed—and during its continuance, not one of the three felt the slightest inclination to indulge in mirth. It was thus that the elephant acted:—
Having filled its trunk with the water of the stream, it raised it aloft. Then pointing it towards the tree, and even directing it with as much coolness and precision as an astronomer would have used in adjusting his telescope, it sent the fluid in a drenching stream into the faces of the three individuals whom it was holding in siege. All three, who chanced to be sitting close together, were at the same instant, and alike, the victims of this unexpected deluge; and before any of them could have counted half a score, they were wet from head to foot, every rag upon their backs, and fronts too, becoming as thoroughly saturated as if they
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