Begumbagh: A Tale of the Indian Mutiny — John Shaqi
Begumbagh: A Tale of the Indian MutinyFenn, George Manville
History
Begumbagh: A Tale of the Indian Mutiny
Fenn, George Manville
British -- India -- Fiction; India -- History -- Fiction; India -- History -- Sepoy Rebellion, 1857-1858 -- Fiction
"Look, look!" cries the boy excitedly; "dere's old _Nabob_!" And
toddling off, the next minute he was close to the great beast, his
little sister running after him, to catch hold of his hand; and there
the little mites stood close to, and staring up at the great elephant,
as he kept on amusing himself by twisting up a little hay in his trunk,
and then lightly scattering it over his back, to get rid of the flies--
for what nature could have been about to give him such a scrap of a
tail, I can't understand. He'd work it, and flip it about hard enough;
but as to getting rid of a fly, it's my belief that if insects can
laugh, they laughed at it, as they watched him from where they were
buzzing about the stone walls and windows in the hot sunshine.
The next minute, like a chorus, there came a scream from one of the
upper windows, one from another, and a sort of howl from Mrs Bantem,
and we all stood startled and staring, for what does Jenny Wren do, but
in a staggering way, lift up her little brother for him to touch the
elephant's trunk, and then she stood laughing and clapping her hands
with delight, seeing no fear, bless her! as that long, soft trunk was
gently curled round the boy's waist, he was drawn out of his sister's
arms; and then the great beast stood swinging the child to and fro, now
up a little way, now down between his legs, and him crowing and laughing
away all the while, as if it was the best fun that could be.
I believe we were all struck motionless; and it was like taking a hand
away from my throat to let me breathe once more, when I saw the elephant
gently drop the little fellow down on a heap of hay, but only for him to
scramble up, and run forward shouting: "Now 'gain, now 'gain;" and, as
if _Nabob_ understood his little prattling, half-tied tongue, he takes
him up again, and swings him, just as there was a regular rush made, and
Mrs Colonel, Miss Ross, Lizzy, and the captain and lieutenant came up.
"For Heaven's sake, save the child!" cries Mrs Maine.--"Mr Leigh,
pray, do something."
Miss Ross did not speak, but she looked at Captain Dyer; and those two
young men both went at the elephant directly, to get the child away; but
in an instant _Nabob_ wheeled round, just the same as a stubborn donkey
would at home with a lot of boys teasing it; and then, as they dodged
round his great carcass, he trumpeted fiercely, and began to shuffle off
round the court.
I went up too, and so did Mrs Bantem, brave as a lion; but the great
beast only kept on making his loud snorting noise, and shuffled along,
with the boy in his trunk, swinging him backwards and forwards; and it
was impossible to help thinking of what would be the consequence if the
elephant should drop the little fellow, and then set on him one of his
great feet.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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