Legendary & romantic tales of Indian historyCaunter, Hobart
History
Legendary & romantic tales of Indian history
Caunter, Hobart
India -- History -- Fiction
It is far from the haunts of men, amid the deep recesses of the
forest, or on the summit of the distant mountain, that nature is seen
to develop the noblest features of her beauty. The stillness that
reigns around, the solemn repose of the scene, not broken in upon by
human associations, nor interrupted by the voice of human intercourse,
enhance the impression of grandeur produced by the sight of objects
which cannot fail to elevate the soul to pious adoration of the great
and illimitable God of the universe.
The stranger was impressed by the somewhat painful novelty of his
situation, and solemn thoughts were awakened in his heart. He sat
calmly gazing upon the brook as it bubbled before him, when his
attention was suddenly roused by a crashing of the bushes, immediately
accompanied by a loud roar, and in another moment his horse was
prostrated by the paw of a huge lion. The traveller started from his
seat, drew his sword, and coming behind the ferocious visitor, cut the
sinews of its hind leg, and before the animal could turn, repeated
the stroke on the other, and thus completely disabled it. The savage
instantly relinquished its prey, but so tremendous had been the
stroke of its paw and the succeeding laceration so extensive, that
the poor horse rolled upon the streamlet’s bank in the agonies of
death. The lion roared with appalling fury--its eyes glared--its mane
bristled--but it was unable to resent the injury it had received. It
dragged itself forward upon its fore-legs with a vain endeavour to
retaliate. Its vanquisher approached fearlessly, struck it across the
skull with his sword, and, repeating the stroke, laid it dead at his
feet.
The loss of his steed was an untoward event, and as he would now have
to make his way through the forest on foot,--as, moreover, the sun had
long passed its meridian, he determined to pursue his journey without
further delay.
Strapping to his shoulders a kind of wallet which had been fastened to
his saddle, he commenced threading the thicket. His journey was long
and arduous, but on emerging into an open space, he saw a doe grazing
with her fawn. The latter had just been born, and the traveller coming
suddenly upon them, secured the little one, while the affrighted dam
fled in terror. Pleased with his capture, he bound the fawn’s legs, and
placing it under his arm, proceeded on his way.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account