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The Phantom Elephant
The man was moaning in great pain, his leg smashed in three places. The painkiller the
nurse was administering seemed to have little effect.
The men cringed at the stern look of the Superintendent of Police. `Himavat did it,
Sahib,' whispered a workman. `Never safe to anger that mountain.'
Anil Bharadwaj flared his nostrils in anger. `What the devil do you mean! A mountain
does not attack men!'
The men hung their heads and shuffled their feet. They would rather have been a hundred
miles away than face the wrath of this young North Indian officer. Who knew what he
might do?
Something had to be said. The grey-haired overseer spoke up, but in a tremulous voice.
`True, Sahib, when Himavat gets into a rage, we flee for our lives! It was really Joji's
fault, Sahib. He should not have moved that stone, it has always been sacred to
Kariamma.'
Anil had had enough. He hated his posting in that malaria-infested jungle district. He
hated the liquidized food of the South. He hated most of all the small, dark, untrustworthy
people. He had learnt to order men at a young age in his father's estates. But here, his
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commands did not elicit the smart `Jo Hukum' he was accustomed to, just a rebellious
droop of the head. His job was to drag these surly idiots into the modern world, and by
God he would do it if he had to thrash sense into every man-jack of them.
`Nonsense! Nonsense! I will have all of you arrested for attempted murder!' he shouted.
`I'll tell you what happened. You got drunk after work, had a fight, and broke his leg.
You will all go to jail! And you you overseer, I will arrest you for planning a murder!'
He breathed noisily through his nostrils, widened like a maddened bull.
The overseer's heart contracted in fear, but he was no coward, he had seen many sahibs
before, drunk, angry, and hateful. `Sahib, my life is at your feet,' he said formally. `But
ask the "Head," ask Munia, Sahib, if Himavat has not wreaked havoc before on us poor
folk. This time, Kariamma, the Goddess of these jungles, told him to teach Joji a lesson.
There are ceremonies to be performed before moving sacred stones, everyone knows
that.'
The officer turned to his Head Constable in exasperation.
Old Munia clicked his heels smartly. `These fools mean a rogue tusker in "musht." Joji is
from the town, Sir, he does not know the jungle, he was careless.'
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Comprehension dawned on Anil, but his nostrils remained flared. `Why has the Forest
Department not been informed? Why have they not driven away the animal? This road
must be completed before the rains, the Chief Minister has ordered!'
Munia clicked his heels again. `Wild life experts are already in the jungle, Sir,' he said
briskly, `they will tranquilize him and put him in a zoo. He is too much of a nuisance to
be released back into the reserved forest beyond the elephant pass.'
The workmen looked agitated. `Don't say such things,' pleaded one of them. `He can
never be taken to a zoo! This jungle has been his for thousands of years!'
`Nonsense! If this dangerous animal cannot be captured, he must be put down,' said Anil
firmly.
The men bent low in fear, and even Joji tried to sit up in alarm, but fell back into his bed
with a whimper.
`For your own safety, Sahib, don't say such things,' pleaded the overseer.
Munia smiled in a superior way. `These jungle people believe that the the Himavat is
the ghost of a great elephant that died long ago, but he still haunts this place.'
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`It is his place, Sahib,' said one of them eagerly. `He always comes to guard his tribe,
whenever they need him.'
Anil was getting tired of all this nonsense. `Enough!' he said with a flip of his hand.
`There are no ghosts, of men or of animals. Munia! See that the forest department
captures this animal, or kills him!' He noted with inner satisfaction that the men trembled
at that. `The work on the road cannot be stopped on any account! Dismissed!'
He left the small, low-roofed village hospital and hurried to his jeep. His driver leapt into
the driver's seat while two constables with rifles climbed in at the back. Munia stood
stiffly at attention. Anil looked a query.
`A small herd of twenty cow elephants and calves are rummaging around here, Sir,' he
said. `Electric fencing is needed to defend the village, and then the wild life experts can
drive them back over the pass.'
Anil nodded, and signaled his driver to take the narrow bumpy road back to what those
fellows thought was civilization. He would tell the junior engineer in charge to link up
the fencing to the grid for the moment. They could not go fast on that rutted road, and
insects swarmed round his head, the flies annoying him more than the bees.
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He visited that neck of the woods a few weeks later to inspect the electric fencing. It was
working all right, but he was displeased with the placing of the wooden posts. `One push
by any animal, even a goat, will send the whole thing crashing! Use your head if you
have got one!' he shouted in exasperation. `Dig these posts deeper! Get more posts in
between! Do you want me to do everything!'
The men ran around like chicken while his orderly served him tea under the shade of a
mango tree. A stool was placed for him to sit down. While he ate his lunch from his tiffin
box, the villagers gathered in a dutiful circle around him. After a long silence, while he
continued to ignore them, the headman said slowly that their crops were being destroyed
every night by the elephant herd. He pointed to a field of trampled stalks. A woman said
they would have nothing to eat. What about compensation from the government, asked
Anil conversationally. They looked at each other uncertain of what to say.
`If we do get any money, it is very little, Sahib,' said the headman haltingly. `They take
most of it.'
Anil's fingers itched for the butt of his revolver. He knew what the old man meant
corruption, even in this miserable part of India with this miserable bunch that passed for
humanity! God! He would gladly `encounter' every thief with no compunction, but then
some mealy-mouthed human-rights son of an activist who didn't know his arse from his
elbow would raise a hue and cry! He said nothing grimly, for the tribals were nobody he
could talk to.
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He decided to stay the night at the village resting in his jeep and refused even the comfort
of a thick grey constable's blanket. The elephant herd had to be turned away from the
forest village. That could have been easily organized by the Conservator, but all that fat
man cared about now at the end of an inglorious career was getting his daughter married
as cheaply as possible. A sense of what was due to rank forbade Anil from forming any
disparaging thoughts he might have had about the Collector himself. All that was needed
in that situation was a shot fired in the air, nothing that could hurt the elephants, and that
would scare them off. He would attend to it himself that very night.
Having told his men to find something to eat in the village, and then roll up in their
blankets at the back of the jeep, he set off for the edge of the jungle that straggled into the
miserable village farms. A plantain clump was inspected and rejected for it could be a
nest for some snake or other, but a stout tree nearby was suitable for his stand. He made
sure the holster flap of his pistol was not buttoned down, and waited. The night quietened
down. After sometime the hurricane lantern in the headman's window ceased to flicker
and the village fell dark. Even the wailing of a baby at long last faded away. The jungle
itself seemed to have bedded down for the night and was silent, unlike the thick forests he
had known as a boy far away to the north. In fact, having been cut down and over grazed
the jungle had almost turned into open scrubland, and that was the problem, with few
animals and less fodder for any to eat. No wonder the elephants raided the village farms.
If he had been a conservationist he would have emptied the place of human habitations,
driven the lazy rascals into cities were labour was getting expensive and allowed the
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forest to grow back. But his job was law and order and he would maintain them against
both two legged and four legged animals.
The dreary night dragged on frustratingly. He sat down on a thick round root and leaned
back against the tree trunk. He rarely smoked but this was one occasion when he might
have enjoyed one. He resisted the temptation, for nothing drives away animals faster than
cigarette smoke. A discreet grunt was heard and out in the distant gloaming he spied a
few boars rooting among the destroyed crops, and then, even they left the place. Slowly
his head sank down on his breast.
He jerked awake, instantly aware that he was not alone. Huge grey shapes had
materialized out of the dark trees, and he saw a lifted trunk waving to assess the situation.
He waited tensely for the right moment. Then as the herd moved forward with a little
signalling cry, he leapt up shouting and waving his arms. The herd wheeled, with the
leading female squealing a loud warning. The young calves were squealing too
uncertainly. Shouting and waving, Anil ran towards a short acacia to place himself
between the herd and the village. He saw the ditch at the last moment, so swerving he
clutched at a thorny branch with one hand, and pulling out his revolver with the other
fired a warning shot into the air.
The frightened calves were squealing loudly and turning in circles between their aunties'
legs, while the large females bunched up in protection, and the lead female faced him,
trumpeting bravely. He pulled off another shot to drive them back, and then holding on to
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the branch jacked himself out of the lip of the ditch. A roar of air buffeted his ear, and he
turned his head just in time to see the indistinct shape of a huge tusker rushing straight at
him! He caught a glimpse of a fiery red eye, and then the elephant dealt such a terrific
blow to the acacia that he was literally blown back into the ditch. Half stunned, he heard
the herd stampeding towards the forest, and as he crawled out of the ditch shaken but
unhurt he caught a last glimpse of the herd as it disappeared into the black jungle, the
blue back of the tusker shepherding them out of harm's way.
Lights were being lit all round the village, and the men were running out shouting and
waving lathis. His own men were already round him, their rifles at the ready. He waved
them all away without saying a word, and slowly lit a cigarette. He had earned a smoke.
The stool was brought out again, a blanket draped over it, and a hot cup of tea put
miraculously into his hand. To speak would be to show how much he had been shaken, so
he stoically said nothing but dragged on his cigarette, threw away the stub and then
sipped the hot sweet tea. In the excitement all deference to his status seemed to have been
forgotten, and there was a clamour of talk all round him, but for once he made no
objection.
Then, after he was sure he had regained full control of himself, he got back to the jeep
with his men, and they spent the hour or so before dawn driving in great circles through
the forest roads to see which path the elephants had taken, but they could pick up no
spoor. When dawn had finally broken, he went back in leisurely style to the village to
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give a few last orders for their safety and inspected the scene of the previous night's
skirmish. Keen trackers counted the footprints of twenty-one animals, females and calves
included. Even he could spot quite a few distinct sets in the crushed fields. Then very
casually he walked back to the acacia tree. The marks of his mad scramble were clearly
visible in the soft red earth of the ditch, but the grass under the short tree showed no
imprint of any foot, not even that of a squirrel. He examined the bark of the tree which
had been almost torn out of its roots by the tusker, but its surface was unmarked. He
would have to ask an expert botanist for an opinion. Anil was a rationalist, refusing to let
his mind be swayed by a chance experience. Professor Bhattacharjee at St. Xavier's while
congratulating him on his entering the service had told him that his real task was not
policing but bringing rationality to the benighted.
The experience remained as a disturbing memory, and nothing that he could read up in
the evening after the day's duty was done could throw any light on his inquiry. His
policeman's instinct told him a mystery was there to be solved and that he had all the
clues, but he could not piece them together. He finally brushed aside his thoughts with a
sigh and bent his powerful mind to ensure the safety of the Chief Minister during his
forthcoming visit to open the new road to general traffic. He immersed himself in formal
duties. He accompanied the Collector on an inspection of the jail, and spent two days
himself in the police lines to see that modern sanitary conditions were maintained. He
harangued the families on what was due to their children. Brushing aside the half-hearted
thanks of the womenfolk there, he returned to his bungalow to finish a tiresome
confidential report to the Inspector General Intelligence on possible anti-national
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activities in his area. A wireless message lay on his desk. It was from the faithful Munia,
informing him that due to the continuing drought a much larger herd of elephants had
entered back through the pass, threatening the tribal villages, and that he awaited
instructions.
Anil felt strangely relieved. He had to get back to the village of that extraordinary
experience. He sent back a message that he would take charge personally, and spent two
days tidying up his deskwork. Finally as he set off in his jeep, even the drought that had
occasioned the elephant herd's return seemed to be ending. The sky was overcast and the
air heavy and humid. Even the drive into the wind could not cool him down. His plan was
simple. A two-tonner followed him with a posse of constables. He would spread them out
in a semi-circle like the beaters of a jungle hunt of long ago, and they would fire into the
air to frighten the animals safely back to their own forest reserve. The rains, if they came
in plenty, would give the herd enough to eat in the jungle beyond the elephant pass.
The villagers were relieved but not overjoyed. They would have to meet the demands of
the policemen while they were stationed there, and though he deprecated the practice, he
could do nothing about it at that time without vitiating their discipline. In any case they
were there only to help the tribal villagers and if there was some payback it was but
natural. As long as it did not involve coercing any woman, he would look the other way.
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The elephants had already done some damage, but the electric fence he had erected had
held them back. So far, so good. But the land was as dry as a bone, and they had been
trying to make their way to the slender rivulet behind the village. During the first day and
night of preparation they saw nothing, perhaps because of all the noise they made. A
charpoy was tied to the branches of a small cassia, somewhat like a machan, and that was
Anil's bed for the night. Constables in rotation stood guard underneath.
As happens so often in jungles the air was full of expectation the next night. The tribal
villagers were almost sure that the elephants would attack that night. Anil felt their
excitement in his bones and ordered that the electric wire should be checked for faults,
and any loose poles strengthened. Then they waited. As night fell, the constables took up
their posts, the villagers bunched together beside their huts, and Anil sat on his charpoy
with the reliable Munia directly below him. Even the forest seemed to sense their tense
unease. There were rustles no one could interpret, and once spotted deer broke into the
fields as if threatened from behind and then vanished again. The hours dragged on and
everyone gradually became listless or drowsy, the constables standing with eyes closed at
their posts. Suddenly, the dark trees parted, and the full herd emerged, trumpeting
recklessly, and made straight for the electric fence!
There was pandemonium. Amidst confused shouted instructions torches were lit and
electric lights switched on. A few constables fired into the air from far off, and the large
herd wheeling this way and that barged into the fence, squealed in anger and fear, and
wheeled about again, but still carefully managing not to trample on the little calves
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panicking between their legs. No one could see clearly what exactly was happening. The
herd had almost run back to the cover of the trees when the skies burst open and a sharp
shower drenched the men in seconds, driving straight into their blurring eyes. With a
sharp white crackle the grid failed, and all the electric lights went out in an instant
leaving them in wet, pitch darkness. Then the elephant herd wheeled round once again
and charged the fence, this time smashing the posts like matchsticks.
`Sir, they are turning towards the village!' shouted Munia above the deafening thunder.
As lightning laced and forked across the sky, Anil saw in horror that the elephants had
indeed turned in their path and were charging towards the hapless village.
`Bring down the leader!' he shouted to a policeman near him. `Kill her! That could stop
the charge!'
Even as the marksman took aim between flickers of uncertain light, a bolt of lightning
crashed down inches behind them. Jumping with the shock, they saw a huge black cloud
streaked with lightning descend from the hills to the west and drive straight towards them
with incredible speed. In seconds the roiling cloud had touched the tree tops at the fringe
of the forest, and then through it burst a blue-black elephant with red fiery eyes. Anil
ducked instinctively as its feet flew over his head and then he saw the huge beast
galloping like an express train straight at the stampeding herd! Arched lightning showed
the herd turning in front of that charge, its squeals indistinct in the monsoonal barrage of
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thunder. As split-second light and darkness alternated, they saw the herd running towards
the safety of the pass, the great flying tusker at their back. Anil had one last glimpse of a
great head raised, a long trunk trumpeting, and then that vision seemed to fade, and even
the tail held straight out turned into mist and was gone.
Thunder and lighting ceased all of a sudden, and they only heard the roar of a drenching
torrential rain.
They were taken into the headman's pathetic little hut to keep dry if possible. Anil sat on
the stool, torches were lit, and somehow hot tea was produced. If people spoke at all it
was in hushed whispers. Anil was very tired and he must have slept till a grey dawn
broke over the soggy ground. No one had disturbed him, and he was glad of that. An
inspection of the fallen fence was carried out later in the morning, and he gave
instructions as in a dream for its repair.
The villagers gathered round the jeep to thank him, and to touch his feet. He nodded
absently to them, without saying a word. And then as he was getting into the jeep, Munia
was there beside him, stiffly at attention.
`What is it, Munia?' asked Anil in a dazed voice.
`Sir, the Kariamma temple is nearby. We should do a puja.'
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`Yes, yes, let us do that,' said Anil.
`Will you break the first coconut, Sir?' asked the headman tentatively.
`Yes, yes, lead the way,' said Anil.
The End