A Journey to Katmandu (the Capital of Napaul), with the Camp of Jung Bahadoor: Including a Sketch of the Nepaulese Ambassador at HomeOliphant, Laurence
History
A Journey to Katmandu (the Capital of Napaul), with the Camp of Jung Bahadoor: Including a Sketch of the Nepaulese Ambassador at Home
Oliphant, Laurence
Nepal -- Description and travel
Horses, oxen, camels, elephants, were tethered in every direction, or
wandering in search of sweeter tufts of grass. The village itself was
close and dirty; the largest house, which stood near a temple, was
occupied by some half-dozen wives of the Minister, who had come to the
borders of their country to welcome home their lord and master.
Our tents were pitched between the camp and a small clump of trees, near
which upwards of 300 elephants were tethered; a stream divided us from
them, the banks of which presented a continual scene of confusion, as men
and animals, at all hours, passed along in crowds, while the motley
groups, collecting as the Minister moved about to inspect various parts
of his establishment, indicated the whereabouts of that great personage.
The scene struck us as particularly novel and attractive when we arrived
from Hirsede about mid-day; as we approached from one direction, the
Minister Sahib arrived from another, mounted in a handsome howdah, the
trophy of the morning being a tiger which he had just killed, and which
was lashed on to the elephant following him, while a hundred more hustled
one another up the steep bank and through the crowded street, greatly to
the inconvenience of his dutiful subjects, who were salaaming
vociferously.
We immediately started in quest of like game, and commenced beating the
heavy jungle, by which the plain was bounded as by a wall, but fortune
did not smile upon our efforts, and we only succeeded in killing a deer
and a pig. I found my first experience in shooting from a howdah to be
anything but agreeable: the deer bounds through the long grass as a
rabbit would through turnips; and, at the moment one catches a glimpse of
his head, the elephant is sure to be going down a steep place, or
stopping or going on suddenly, or trumpeting, or doing something which
completely balks a sportsman accustomed to be on his own legs, and sends
the ball flying in any direction but the right one. Our line of
elephants consisted of upwards of one hundred, and they beat regularly
and silently enough, except when the behaviour of one of them irritated
some passionate mahout, who would vent his wrath upon the head of the
animal by a blow from a short iron rod, or would catch him sharply under
the ear with a huge hook, which he dexterously applied to a sore kept
open for that purpose; then a loud roar of pain would sound through the
jungle for a moment, much to our disgust, as it startled the deer we were
silently and gradually approaching.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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