Elephants -- Juvenile literature; India -- Juvenile literature
You do not know what music can do for animals. If you took a
flute and played certain tunes on it, all of the snakes would
come out of their holes and dance to the music! There is supposed
to be a kind of flower, like a sensitive plant, that can be put
to sleep by the playing of a very delicate tune. I have seen
with my own eyes how fond the deer are of music. Sometimes in the
middle of the afternoon, if you stand on the edge of the forest
and play your flute and slowly strike the notes which sound like
the whistling call of the antelope, you will see a strange
phenomenon. The deer generally bark, but they also give a
whistling call.
[Illustration: IF YOU TOOK A FLUTE AND PLAYED CERTAIN TUNES ON
IT, ALL OF THE SNAKES WOULD COME OUT OF THEIR HOLES AND DANCE TO
THE MUSIC]
As I was playing my flute one afternoon, I remember distinctly
that nothing happened for a while. I stopped and tried another
tune. I heard a strange rustle in the leaves of the small plants
of the jungle; but nothing came of it. Again I changed my tune
and played on. This time even the leaves did not move, so I was
sure my flute was not catching the ear of any animal. I was
heart-broken. I had gone to test my knowledge of flute-playing,
but I found out that I could not attract any animal.
It was getting late; the darkness of the jungle became thicker
and thicker, though the April sun was still scorching the open
meadow. At last in desperation, I tried my only remaining
tune, not being very proficient on the flute. For a while nothing
happened. I played so intently that I paid attention to nothing
else and was greatly startled to hear a noise as if someone were
pulling on a rope. I looked up and there was a stag whose
nostrils were quivering with excitement as if he scented the
music. His beautiful forked horns were caught up in a creeper
hanging from a tree, from which he was trying to free himself. I
kept on playing, but did not take my eyes from him. At last he
freed himself from the vine, but a tendril still clung to his
horns like a crown of green. He came nearer and stood still.
I kept on playing, and one by one more golden faces began to come
out from behind the foliage of the jungle. The spotted fawn, the
musk-deer, gazelles and antelopes, all seemed to answer the call
of the music. I stopped playing. That instant a shiver went
through the herd; the stag stamped his foot on the ground and as
swiftly as the waving of a blade of grass in the breeze they all
disappeared in the forest. I could feel in the distance the
shiver of the undergrowth of grass and saplings indicating the
way the animals had passed.
Knowing this power of music over animals, I wanted to train Kari
and Kopee to follow the tunes of my flute. Kopee was such a
monkey that I could not make him listen. Whenever I began to play
the flute, he would go to sleep or run up a tree. Monkeys have no
brains.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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