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My father was always fascinated to listen to his mother talk about her childhood in the jungle.
The talk of their coffee garden, the eucalyptus "blue gum" trees, on the way down from Ooty, the elephants, tigers, the fogs and the lifestyle were in her heart and she always missed "her India".
My father was born in London, England and he first visited India in 1946 when he was nineteen.
Simple arithmetic will tell you that he is now in his eighties, but his age hasn't deterred him, and now my parents have a home less than ten miles from where my grandmother was born.
It seems that you can take the man out of the jungle, but you can't the jungle out of the man...
The talk of their coffee garden, the eucalyptus "blue gum" trees, on the way down from Ooty, the elephants, tigers, the fogs and the lifestyle were in her heart and she always missed "her India".
My father was born in London, England and he first visited India in 1946 when he was nineteen.
Simple arithmetic will tell you that he is now in his eighties, but his age hasn't deterred him, and now my parents have a home less than ten miles from where my grandmother was born.
It seems that you can take the man out of the jungle, but you can't the jungle out of the man...
Quote
On 29 June 1895, a cattle driver employed on our plantation ten miles distant from Gudalur (in the Nilgiris), returned hurriedly home from where he had driven the cattle out to graze, with the exciting information that one of the finest heifers in the herd had been killed by a tiger.
The moonlight being sufficiently bright, although dimmed by misty clouds, it was resolved that my brothers, three young lovers of sport, should sit up that night over the carcase, which Stripes, after having mauled dreadfully, had left in the open and retreated into a thick jungle.
All necessary preparations were made and our sportsmen were on the watch at dusk, but they were destined to disappointment for Stripes did not turn up that night, nor the next, nor even the third!
On the morning of the fourth day, one of the trio strolled leisurely off in hopes of, at least, getting "a shot at an old jack," but he was surprised upon nearing the spot, to find numbers of wild-dogs making a good meal off what Stripes had seen fit to abandon; seating himself upon a rock among the tall grass, he watched with interest.
Suddenly the largest among the dogs, sniffing the air, took a few steps in the watcher's direction, and fixing its savage eyes upon him, revealed its sharp white teeth; rising to his feet the boy hunter levelled his gun and aimed at the surly-looking beast, it rolled over, but recovering itself bounded out of sight.
A few more hasty shots were fired at some of the other dogs, but none proved fatal.
In the evening of the same day our trio again betook themselves to the spot, and, concealing themselves in a tree nearby, waited. After a short space of time, the dogs reappeared on the scene and made for the carcase, when a well aimed shot from the "leafy bower" dispersed them in all directions, leaving one of their number stretched lifeless on the ground.
It is curious that no reward is offered at Gudalur for the destruction of these animals, which are constantly seen throughout the country in full chase after deer and sometimes other game.
The moonlight being sufficiently bright, although dimmed by misty clouds, it was resolved that my brothers, three young lovers of sport, should sit up that night over the carcase, which Stripes, after having mauled dreadfully, had left in the open and retreated into a thick jungle.
All necessary preparations were made and our sportsmen were on the watch at dusk, but they were destined to disappointment for Stripes did not turn up that night, nor the next, nor even the third!
On the morning of the fourth day, one of the trio strolled leisurely off in hopes of, at least, getting "a shot at an old jack," but he was surprised upon nearing the spot, to find numbers of wild-dogs making a good meal off what Stripes had seen fit to abandon; seating himself upon a rock among the tall grass, he watched with interest.
Suddenly the largest among the dogs, sniffing the air, took a few steps in the watcher's direction, and fixing its savage eyes upon him, revealed its sharp white teeth; rising to his feet the boy hunter levelled his gun and aimed at the surly-looking beast, it rolled over, but recovering itself bounded out of sight.
A few more hasty shots were fired at some of the other dogs, but none proved fatal.
In the evening of the same day our trio again betook themselves to the spot, and, concealing themselves in a tree nearby, waited. After a short space of time, the dogs reappeared on the scene and made for the carcase, when a well aimed shot from the "leafy bower" dispersed them in all directions, leaving one of their number stretched lifeless on the ground.
It is curious that no reward is offered at Gudalur for the destruction of these animals, which are constantly seen throughout the country in full chase after deer and sometimes other game.
