Legendary & romantic tales of Indian historyCaunter, Hobart
History
Legendary & romantic tales of Indian history
Caunter, Hobart
India -- History -- Fiction
He now quitted the cleared space, and plunged again into the jungle,
satisfied at having procured something to relieve his hunger, should
he be obliged to pass the night in the forest. When he had at length
reached a convenient spot where he might prepare a meal, he placed
the fawn beside the trunk of a blasted tree, and having kindled a
fire by the friction of two dry pieces of wood, he was about to
sacrifice the little animal, but perceiving the mother at a short
distance gazing upon him with an expression of the deepest distress,
he paused. The tears rolled down her cheeks--her head was raised, and
her eyes intently fixed upon the stranger’s countenance. They next
turned upon her innocent offspring that lay bound at the root of the
tree, unconscious of its danger, but still yearning for its parent.
She gradually advanced within a few yards of the spot on which the
traveller stood. He retired several paces; the anxious dam immediately
sprang towards its young, lay down by it, and caressed it with an
intelligible joy. On the traveller’s approach she quitted her fawn with
a bound of terror, but still retreated only a few yards, manifesting
the strongest symptoms of maternal suffering.
It was an affecting sight--an irresistible appeal to human sympathy.
The heart of the stranger was moved to pity, his bosom heaved with
generous emotion, and under the impulse of a fervid and holy exultation
he released the fawn from his captivity. The tender creature instantly
ran to its mother, which, with a cry of joy, passed forward towards
the thicket; but before she was secluded from the sight of him who had
delivered her young from death, she turned round as if with a look of
grateful acknowledgment, and plunged with her delicate offspring into
the close cover of the forest.
This was an act to gladden the heart of a good man. Life is the blessed
boon of Heaven, and the greatest of its gifts: to the mere animal,
the loss of it is the loss of all; and yet how wantonly does man
trifle with the life of animals, to which it is an object of such high
enjoyment; for dumb creatures, having no apprehension of pain, possess
the highest sense of mere corporeal fruition, so long as they are not
actually suffering.
The release of the fawn had softened the stranger’s sympathies and
impressed his feelings. Taking from his wallet a small quantity of
rice, which had been already boiled, he made a homely but grateful
meal, and determined to pass that night on the spot, endeared to him
by the consciousness, which it kept alive, of having performed a
benevolent action.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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