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Stories Byri felt some dark figure moving in the thicket adjacent to the bed of the stream. Byri's eye tried to identify the figure, shearing through the darkness. Lifting the rifle, he took aim at the moving object. The figure trod heavily up to the water, kneeling on all four, started slurping. A sudden gush of wind filled his nostrils with wafted smell, which sent waves of fear down his spine. Byri's heart missed few beats. It was a tiger! And Byri was holding a country rifle with only one shot in it! Should it miss its aim, he would be finished. Even if his aim were perfect and hit the target, he couldn't carry the animal out of the forest, nor could he sell it off escaping the watchful eyes Forest Guards. He would then land himself in much deeper trouble. Let alone clearing the loan from Soorayya he would ! get a minimum six months jail. Byri quietly brought down his rifle and sat like another bush among the bushes, haplessly looking at the tiger. The tiger quenched its thirst, stood up leisurely, whipped the sand-bed along the stream two, three times with his long tail and strode into the forest leisurely. A monkey atop a tree, perhaps identifying the tiger, sent “hoop, hoop" warning signals to his tribe. The forest was agog with twitter twatters of monkeys all in a sudden. They subsided gradually as the tiger proceeded into the interior. Silence reigned once again. Byri was disappointed. Smelling the tiger no other animal would dare come near water. He heaved in despair that all his efforts would come to naught. Whenever Soorayya flashed in his mind, the money lender appeared ruthlessly more cruel and dreadful than the tiger; he would gobble up Byri's piece of land, his lone resource of life. Past midnight, the wind picked-up speed and occasional lightning streaked on the far off skies. Byri looked up only to find dark encircling clouds. “Hell! It is going to rain! “thought Byri. He sat disgruntled cursing his odd luck. More clouds engulfed the sky. The moist wind blew more vigorously swaying the bamboo bushes wildly. Dry leaves rolled in whirls. The dust raked up formed a veil of mist in the darkness.
“Damn it! No bloody animal would come out in this stormy weather.
Wretched fortune and wretched weather!"- rued Byri bitterly. Adding
to his woes the sound of rain lashing the hills was clearly audible
and soon it started drizzling. There was a creeping sound on the dry
leaves. Byri thought at first it was the gale. But as the sound
became louder and nearer, Byri was sure it was the sound of hooves
over wet leaves of a herd of animals on the run – running for water. The bucks were running pushing each other to have the first gulp. The sounds of their horns locking in the melee were also clear to him. In a flash Byri pulled out his rifle and took aim by the sound. He could only see a haze of moving figures in dark but could not single out any to take sure aim. If he thithered any longer the pack would run off in a jiffy, he was sure. Taking aim at the middle of the flock he pulled the trigger. The silent forest reverberated with the 'T.h.o.o.m' the country rifle had made. The bucks ran helter-skelter. In the wafting smoke there was the cruel smell of the gun powder. Byri came out of his hiding. Wading through the smoke, he was madly searching for his game here and there. About two yards from the pool, in the bush, he spotted the animal struggling for life. He ran towards that. The buck was gasping for breath. His shot pierced thro' the abdomen baring its intestines. Fearing that it might run away even in such a condition, he wanted to hold it by its hind legs. The buck kicked him with all his might. He fell flat on his back and hurt his shoulder. Mouthing few abuses Byri got to his feet in no time and with vengeance stamped his legs wildly on its neck till he puffed out the last traces of life and resistance from it. A high horned Buck! Byri looked at it in wonder and satisfaction holding his bleeding shoulder by the other hand. ‘It’ll fetch two hundred bucks in the least and I can clear half the debt of Soorayya' he thought. Plucking out few leaves in the dark and chewing them to a paste, he hurriedly applied the salivated mixture to the wound. It burnt him there. Wriggling in pain and fanning the wound with his mouth, he sat there till the burning subsided. A fat male Buck! Very heavy! Byri's worry now was how to carry it home. It was next to impossible to lug it and scale up and down two hills. There was of course a short cut but it was ridden with thorny bushes, thickets and dried up streams. He would have to pass thro' narrow paths and at times crawl under the creepers. But he had no better alternative. He tried to lift the buck. No. He couldn't. Holding his breath and summoning all the strength at his command, he pulled it with a swing and managed to lug it over his shoulder. He was staggering under its weight. Taking the rifle he left at the hiding for support, Byri started homeward taking the shorter route. He was up against the blowing wind. It had also started drizzling. In the hope of clearing Soorayya's loan, he forgot all his pain. In the dead of night, through the forest, he was walking through thorny and rocky footpaths. Blood and spittle oozing from the animal's mouth mixed to a sort of glue and rolled down his body. The bamboo and the hispid made umpteen scratches on his body. Whenever he had to bend low to pass through narrow openings, he squeaked in pain and felt his back would break. He pondered if he should rest a while putting down his ! weight but decided against it for fear of not being able to lift it back onto his shoulder. He thus trudged along. Byri heard some whistle-like sounds from a distance. Gradually they increased from all sides. A howl followed another as if they were orchestrating. Though he mistook it for chattering of birds in the first place, he soon recognized – as a seasoned gamester that he was, having been born and brought up in the woods – that they were bays of wild dogs. Smelling their prey, they would siege their victim from all sides and attack; they eat their prey alive. |
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