The Cliff Climbers

Chapter Fifty Seven

The standing sleepers.

The advent of the adjutants produced a vivid impression on the minds of all three of our adventurers – more vivid, perhaps, upon Ossaroo than either of the others. To him they seemed like old friends who had come to visit him in his prison; and though it never occurred to the shikaree, that they could be in any way instrumental in obtaining his release, still the impression produced was one of a pleasant nature. He saw before him two creatures whose forms, however uncouth, were associated with the scenes of his earliest childhood; and he could not help a passing fancy, that the pair, that had thus unexpectedly made their appearance, might be the same old cock and hen he had so often seen roosted on the branches of a huge banyan tree, that overshadowed the bungalow in which he was born.

Of course this could be only fancy on the part of Ossaroo. Out of the thousands of storks, that annually make their migration from the plains of Hindostan to the northward of the Himalaya Mountains, it would have been a rare coincidence if the two that for years had performed the office of scavengers in the shikaree’s native village, should be identical with those now hovering above his head – for it was while they were yet upon the wing that Ossaroo had indulged in this pleasant speculation. Though scarce serious in his thought – and only entertaining it for an instant – he was nevertheless gratified by the sight of the two storks, for he knew they must have come from his native plains – from the banks of that glorious river in whose waters he longed once more to wet his feet.

The sight of the huge birds suggested to Caspar a different train of thought. As he beheld their immense wings, extended in slow but easy flight, it occurred to him that one or other of the great creatures might have the power to perform that task which had proved too much for the bearcoot; and for which the “kite” had been “flyed” in vain.

“Oh!” exclaimed he, as the idea came across his mind, “don’t you think, Karl, that either of those great creatures would be strong enough to carry the line aloft? They look as if they could lift even one of ourselves to the top of the cliff.”

Karl made no reply; though his silence was only caused by Caspar’s suggestion – which he was proceeding to ponder upon.

The young hunter continued: “If we could only catch one of them alive! Do you suppose they are going to alight? They look as if they would. What do you say, Ossaroo? You know more of these birds than we do.”

“Yees, youngee Sahib; ee speakee de true. Dey go for come down. You savey dey make long fly. Dey both weary on de wing – no able fly furder. ’Sides, ee see, here am de lake – water – dey want drinkee – want eat too. Dey sure come down.”

Ossaroo’s prediction was fulfilled, almost as soon as it was uttered. The birds, first one and then the other, jerked in their spread wings; and dropped down upon the shore of the lake – as already stated, not over twenty paces from the spot where the three waders were occupied among the leaves of the lilies.

The eyes of all three were now directed with a fixed gaze upon the new-comers, – in whose behaviour they observed something irresistibly ludicrous.

Almost on the instant of their feet touching terra firma, instead of moving about over the ground in search of food, or striding down towards the water to drink – as the spectators were expecting them to do – the two long-legged bipeds acted in an entirely different manner. Neither of them seemed to care either for food or drink. If they did, both these appetites must have been secondary with them to the desire for rest; for scarce ten seconds had elapsed after their alighting, when each drew in its long neck, burying it between the shoulders as in a case, leaving visible only the upper half of the head, with its huge scythe-shaped beak – the mandibles resting against the prominence of the breast bone, and pointing diagonally downwards.

Simultaneous with this movement, the spectators perceived another – equally indicative of a desire on the part of the birds to betake themselves to repose. This was the drawing up of one of their long fleshless legs, until it was entirely concealed under the loose feathers of the belly – a movement made by both so exactly at the same instant, as to lead to the belief that they were actuated by like impulses, by some spiritual union that existed between them!

In ten seconds more both birds appeared to be asleep. At all events, their eyes were closed; and not a movement could be detected in the limbs, wings, bodies, or beaks of either!

It was certainly a ludicrous sight to see these huge creatures – each supporting itself on a single stalk, so straight and slender that nothing but the nicest balance could have ensured their equilibrium; and this, too, while neither seemed conscious of any danger of toppling over – of which, indeed, there was not the slightest reason to be afraid.

The Hindoo had been too long accustomed to this sort of spectacle, to see anything in it worthy of being laughed at. Not so Caspar – whose mirth was at once excited to the point of risibility. The unconcerned manner in which the storks had come to a stand – along with the picturesque pose in which they had composed themselves to sleep – was even too much for the stoical Karl; who at once echoed the laughter which his brother had inaugurated.

Their united cachinnations rang loudly over the lake – reverberating in repeated peals from the adjacent cliffs.

It might be supposed that the fracas thus created would have alarmed the new arrivals: and caused them once more to make an appeal to their wings.

Nothing of the sort. The only effect perceptible on either, was the opening of their eyes, a slight protrusion of the neck, a shake of the head, an upraising of the long beak, with a quick clattering of its mandibles – which soon becoming closed again, were permitted to drop into their original position of repose.

This cool behaviour of the birds only increased the hilarity of the boys; and for several minutes they remained in their places, giving way to loud and uncontrollable laughter.

Chapter Fifty Eight.

Fritz among the feathers

Their hilarity could not be continued for ever. Even that of Caspar came to a termination; though not until his ribs ached with the agreeable exercise.

As their bean-sacks had been already filled, it was determined that they should first take them to the hut, and then return to the storks with the design of capturing them. Ossaroo was of the opinion, that they would have no difficulty in effecting this; declaring the birds to be so tame, that he might walk straight up to them, and throw a noose over their necks. This, in all probability, he might have done, had he been provided with a piece of cord proper for the making of such a noose. But there was no cord at hand – not even a bit of string – nothing but the rush baskets filled with the lotus beans. To obtain a snare, it would be necessary to make a journey to the hut.

In the minds of our adventurers there was no very clear conception of the object of capturing the storks: unless it might have been that the thought, to which Caspar had given speech, was still entertained by himself and his brother. That indeed would have justified them in their attempt to take the birds.

Another idea may have suggested itself – more especially to Ossaroo. If nothing else should come of it, there would be some pleasure in holding the birds in captivity – as pets and companions. Ossaroo had been involuntarily contemplating the prospect of a long lonely life in the solitude of that mountain valley. With such a prospect even the solemn stork might be regarded as a cheerful companion.

Stimulated by these thoughts – and some others of a more indefinite kind – our adventurers came to the determination to ensnare the adjutants!

All three commenced wading out of the lake – in a direction so as not to disturb the sleepers. Karl and Caspar – now that they had become inspired with a design – lifted their feet out of the water, and set them down again, as though they ere treading upon egg. Ossaroo sneered at their over-caution – telling them, that there was not the slightest fear of frightening the storks; and indeed there was truth in what he affirmed.

In most countries bordering upon the banks of the Ganges, these birds, protected alike by superstitious fears and edicts of law, have become so used to the proximity of man, that they will scarce stir out of their way to avoid him. It was possible that the brace in question might have belonged to some of the wilder flocks – inhabiting the swamps of the Sunderbunds – and therefore less accustomed to human society. In that case there might be some difficulty in approaching them; and it was for this reason that Ossaroo had consented to adopt the precautions for their capture which Karl had insisted should be taken.

The truth is, that Karl had conceived a deeper design than either of his companions. It had occurred to him – while engaged with his brother in that laughing duetto – and somewhat to the surprise of Caspar, it had caused a sudden cessation of his mirth, or at least the noisy ebullition of it.

The philosopher had become silent and serious; as if the thought had suddenly arisen, that hilarity under the circumstances was indecorous and out of place. From that moment Karl had preserved a mysterious silence – even refusing to explain it when interrogated by Caspar. He was only silent on this one theme. Otherwise his speech flowed freely enough – in counsel to his companions – charging both to adopt every precaution for ensuring the capture of the storks – and with an eagerness, which puzzled them to comprehend.

A few minutes’ walk brought them back to the hut. It was rather a run than a walk – Karl going in the lead, and arriving before either of the others. The bean-sacks were flung upon the floor – as if they had been empty and of no value – and then the strings and lines that had been spun by Ossaroo were pulled out of their hidden places, and submitted to inspection.

It did not take long to make a running noose, which was accomplished by the nimble fingers of the shikaree. Easily also was it attached to the end of a long stem of the ringall bamboo; and thus provided, our adventurers once more sallied forth from the hut; and made their way towards the sleeping storks.

As they drew near, they were gratified at perceiving the birds still in the enjoyment of their meridian slumber. No doubt they had made a long journey, and needed rest. Their wings hung drooping by their sides, proclaiming weariness. Perhaps they were dreaming – dreaming of a roost on some tall fig-tree, or the tower of an antique temple sacred to the worship of Buddha, Vishna, or Deva – dreaming of the great Ganges, and its odorous waifs – those savoury morsels of putrefying flesh, in which they delighted to dig their huge mattocks of mandibles.

Ossaroo being entrusted with the noose, did not pause to think, about what they might be dreaming; or whether they were dreaming at all. Enough for him to perceive that they were sleeping; and, gliding forward in a bent attitude, silent as a tiger threading his native jungle, the shikaree succeeded in making approach – until he had got almost within snaring distance of the unconscious adjutants.

There is many a slip between the cup and the lip. The old saw was illustrated in the case of the shikaree while endeavouring to ensnare the storks; though it was not the snare, but the birds that now illustrated the adage.

After the attempt had been made, the snare could be still seen in its place, stiffly projecting from the point of the long bamboo rod; while the adjutants were soaring in the air, mounting still higher upward, their slender necks outstretched, their beaks cracking like castanets, and their throats emitting an angry sound like the roaring of a brace of lions.

The failure was not to be attributed to Ossaroo; but to the imprudence of one of his companions – an individual of the party close treading upon his heels. That individual was Fritz!

Just as Ossaroo was about casting his loop over the shoulders of a sleeping adjutant, Fritz – who had followed the party from the hut – now for the first time perceiving the birds, rushed forward and seized the tail of one of them between his teeth. Then, as if determined on securing the beautiful marabout feathers, he pulled a large mouthful of them clean out by the roots.

This was not exactly the motive that impelled Fritz to make such an unexpected attack – unexpected, because the well-trained animal would have known better than to fright the game which his masters were in the act of stalking; and such imprudence had never before been displayed by him. It was the particular kind of game that had provoked Fritz to act contrary to his usual habit of caution; for of all the creatures which he had encountered, since his arrival in the counted there, was none that had inspired him with a more profound feeling of hostility than these same adjutants. During Fritz’s sojourn in the Botanic Gardens of Calcutta – where his masters, it will be remembered, were for some time entertained as guests – Fritz had often come in contact with a brace of these gigantic birds, that were also guests of that justly celebrated establishment: they habitually made their stay within the enclosure, where they were permitted to stalk about unmolested, and pick up such stray scraps as were cast out by the domestics of the curator’s mansion.

These birds had grown so tame, as to take food freely out of the hand of anyone who offered it to them; and with like freedom, to take it where it was not offered, but found within reach of their long prehensile beaks. Often had they pilfered provisions to which they were anything but welcome; and, among other acts of their rapacity, there was one of which Fritz had been an interested spectator, and for which he was not likely ever to forgive them. That was, their robbing him of a dainty piece of meat, which one of the cooks had presented to Fritz himself; and upon which he had been going to make his dinner. One of the birds had the audacity to seize the meat in its mandibles, jerk it out of the dog’s very teeth, and swallow it, before the latter had time to offer either interruption or remonstrance.

The consequence was, that, from that time, Fritz had conceived a most rancorous antipathy towards all birds of the genus Ciconia– and the species Argala in particular; and this it was that impelled him, on first perceiving the adjutant – for being by the hut on their arrival he had not seen them before, – to rush open-mouthed towards them, and seize the tail of one of them between his teeth.

It is not necessary to add that the bird, thus indecorously assailed, took to instant flight, followed by its more fortunate though not less frightened mate – leaving Fritz in a temper to treat Marabout feathers as they had never been treated before – even when by the hands of some scorned and jealous vixen they may have been torn from the turban of some hated rival!

Chapter Fifty Nine.

Capturing the storks

Our adventurers witnessed the uprising of the birds with looks that betokened disappointment and displeasure; and Fritz was in danger of getting severely castigated. He merited chastisement; and would have received it on the instant – for Caspar already stood over him with an upraised rod – when an exclamation from Karl caused the young hunter to hold his hand, and saved Fritz from the “hiding” with which he was being threatened.

It was not for this that Karl had called out. The exclamation that escaped him was of a different import – so peculiarly intoned as at once to draw Caspar’s attention from the culprit, and fix it on his brother.

Karl was standing with eyes upraised and gazing fixedly upon the retreating stork – that one with whose tail Fritz had taken such an unwarrantable liberty.

It was not the ragged Marabout feathers, hanging half plucked from the posterior of the stork, upon which Karl was gazing; but its long legs, that, as the bird rose in its hurried flight, hung, slantingly downward, extending far beyond the tip of its tail. Not exactly these either was it that had called forth that strange cry; but something attached to them – or one of them at least – which, as it came under the shining rays of the sun, gleamed in the eyes of Karl with a metallic lustre.

It had a yellowish sheen – like gold or burnished brass – but the scintillation of the sun’s rays, as they glanced from its surface, hindered the spectators from making out its shape, or being able to say exactly what it was.