The Cliff Climbers

It was only Caspar and Ossaroo who were thus perplexed. Karl knew that glittering meteor, that for a moment had flashed before his eyes like a beam of hope – now slowly but surely departing from him, and plunging him back into the old misery.

“Oh! brother!” he exclaimed, as the stork flew upward, “what a misfortune has happened!”

“Misfortune! what mean you, Karl?”

“Ah! you know not how near we were to a chance of being delivered. Alas! alas! it is going to escape us!”

“The birds have escaped us, you mean?” inquired Caspar. “What of that? I don’t believe they could have carried up the rope anyhow; and what good would it be to catch them? They’re not eatable; and we don’t want their feathers valuable as they may be.”

“No, no!” hurriedly rejoined Karl; “it is not that – not that.”

“What then, brother?” inquired Caspar, somewhat astonished at the incoherent speeches of the plant-hunter. “What are you thinking of?”

“Look yonder!” said Karl, now for the first time pointing up to the soaring storks. “You see something that shines?”

“Ha! on the leg of one of the birds? Yes; I do see something – like a piece of yellow metal – what can it be?”

“I know what it is!” rejoined Karl, in a regretful tone; “right well do I know. Ah! if we could only have caught that bird, there would have been a hope for us. It’s no use grieving after it now. It’s gone – alas! it’s gone; and you, Fritz, have this day done a thing that will cause us all regret – perhaps for the rest of our lives.”

“I don’t comprehend you, brother!” said Caspar; “but if it’s the escape of the storks that’s to be so much regretted, perhaps it will never take place. They don’t appear to be in such a hurry to leave us – notwithstanding the inhospitable reception Fritz has given them. See! they are circling about, as if they intended to come down again. And see also Ossaroo – he’s holding out a lure for them. I warrant the old shikaree will succeed in coaxing them back. He knows their habits perfectly.”

“Merciful Father!” exclaimed Karl, as he looked first at the flying storks and then at Ossaroo; “be it permitted that he succeed! You, Caspar, lay hold upon Fritz, and give Ossaroo every chance! For your life don’t let the dog get away from you; for your life – for the lives of all of us!”

Caspar, though still under surprise at the excited bearing of his brother, did not allow that to hinder him from obeying his command, and rushing upon Fritz, he caught hold of the dog. Then placing the hound between his legs, he held him with both hands and knees as tightly as if Fritz had been screwed in a vice.

The eyes of all – the dog included – were now turned upon Ossaroo. Caspar contemplated his movements with an undefined interest; while Karl watched them with feelings of the keenest anxiety.

The cunning shikaree had not come to the spot unprepared. Having anticipated some difficulty in getting hold of the storks, he had providentially provided a lure, which, in the event of their proving shy, might attract them within reach of his ringall. This lure was a large fish – which he had taken out of the larder before leaving the hut, and which he was now holding out – as conspicuously as possible, to attract their attention. He had gone some distance apart from the others, and especially from Fritz, whom he had scolded away from his side; and, having stationed himself on a slight eminence near the edge of the lake, he was using all his wiles to coax back the birds that had been so unwittingly compelled to take wing.

It was evident to Ossaroo – as well as to the others – that the flight of the storks had been against their will; and that they had reluctantly ascended into the air. They were no doubt wearied, and wanted rest.

Whether this desire would have brought them to the earth again, Ossaroo did not stay to determine. As soon as by their actions he became convinced that they saw the fish held out in his hand, he flung the tempting morsel to some distance from him, and then stood awaiting the result.

It proved a success – and almost instantaneously.

There was nothing in the appearance or attitude of Ossaroo to excite the suspicion of the adjutants. His dark skin and Hindoo costume were both well-known to them; and though now observed in an odd, out-of-the-way corner of the world, that was no reason for regarding him as an enemy.

Fritz was alone the object of their fear, but Fritz was a good way off, and there appeared no longer any reason for dreading him.

Reasoning thus – and perhaps with empty stomachs to guide them to a conclusion – the sight of the fish – lying unguarded upon the grass – put an end to their fears; and, without further hesitation, both dropped down beside it.

Both at the same instant clutched at the coveted prize – each endeavouring to be the first in securing it.

As one of the birds had got hold of the fish by the head and the other by its tail, a struggle now arose as to which should be the first to swallow its body. Each soon passed a portion of it down its capacious throat, until its mandibles met in the middle, and cracked against each other.

As neither would yield to the other, so neither would consent to disgorge, and let go; and for some seconds this curious contention was kept up.

How long it might have continued was not left to the determination of the parties themselves; but to Ossaroo, who, while they were thus occupied, rushed upon the spot; and, flinging wide his arms, enfolded both the birds in an embrace, from which they vainly struggled to get free.

With the assistance of Karl and Caspar – who had in the meantime tied Fritz to a tree – the huge creatures were soon overpowered, and pinioned beyond the possibility of escaping.

Chapter Sixty.

A labelled leg

“It is! it is!” cried Karl, stooping suddenly down, and grasping the shank of one of the birds.

“What?” inquired Caspar.

“Look, brother! See what is there, round the stork’s leg! Do you not remember having seen that bit of jewellery before?”

“A brass ring! Oh yes!” replied Caspar; “now I do remember. In the Botanic Gardens there was an adjutant with a ring round its ankle; a brass ring, too – just like this one. How very odd!”

“Like!” echoed Karl. “Not only like, but the very same! Stoop down, and examine it more closely. You see those letters?”

“R.B.G., Calcutta,” slowly pronounced Caspar, as he read the inscription graven upon the ring. “‘R.B.G.’ What do these initials stand for, I wonder?”

“It is not difficult to tell that,” knowingly answered Karl. “Royal Botanical Garden! What else could it be?”

“Nothing else. For certain, these two birds must be the same we used to see there, and with which we so often amused ourselves!”

“The same,” asserted Karl. “No doubt of it.”

“And Fritz must have recognised them too – when he made that unprovoked attack upon them! You remember how he used to quarrel with them?”

“I do. He must not be permitted to assail them any more. I have a use for them.”

“A use?”

“Ah, a most important one; so important that these birds, ugly and unamiable as they are, must be cared for, as if they were the prettiest and most prized of pets. We must provide them with food and water; we must tend them by day, and watch over them by night – as though they were some sacred fire, which it was our duty to keep constantly burning.”

“All that, indeed!”

“Verily, brother! The possession of these storks is not only important – it is essential to our safety. If they should die in our hands, or escape out of them – even if one of them should die or get away – we are lost. Our last hope lies in them. I am sure it is our last.”

“But what hope have you found in them?” interrogated Caspar – puzzled to make out the meaning of his brother’s words, and not without wonder at their apparent wildness.

“Hope? Every hope. Ay, something more than hope: for in this singular incident I cannot fail to recognise the finger of a merciful God. Surely He hath at length taken compassion upon us! Surely it is He who has sent these birds! They are messengers from Heaven!”

Caspar remained silent, gazing earnestly in the eyes of his brother, that were now sparkling with mingled gratitude and joy. But although Caspar could perceive this expression, he was utterly unable to interpret it.

Ossaroo was alike puzzled by the strange looks and speeches of the Sahib Karl; but the Hindoo gave less heed to them – his attention being almost wholly taken up by the adjutants, which he fondled in turns – talking to them and embracing them, as if they had been his brothers!

As soon as the cord had been looped round their ankles, and there was no longer any danger of their getting away, Ossaroo cut up the fish into slices convenient for their gullets; and proceeded to feed them with as much fondness as he could have shown to a brace of human beings, who had arrived from a long journey in a state of starvation.

The storks exhibited no signs of shyness – not the slightest. It was not in their nature to do so. They gobbled up the morsels flung before them, with as much avidity and unconcern, as if they were being fed by the side of the great tank in the Garden at Calcutta.

The sight of Fritz alone had a disturbing influence upon them; but, by the command of Karl, the dog was kept out of view, until they had finished the meal with which Ossaroo had provided them.