part0014

The sun peeped its golden orb above the wavy line of tree-tops that rimmed the horizon while its warm rays began to dispel the mists that eddied wraith-like across the moist dew-spangled verdure of the forest floor as June, mounted on her father's horse, negotiated the road that led through the reserve in a southwesterly direction.

A herd of spotted deer scampered a few yards before her, the does accompanied by fawns of various sizes, tripping across the track to pause on the other side and gently nibble the luscious grass. Two medium-sized stags followed and then the master of the herd. He was a lordly sight; well-matured, a deep russet-brown in colour, and with antlers that spread in symmetrical curves to a length of forty inches. The white spots on his sides contrasted sharply against the background of jungle to render his dappled form a sight of splendour and beauty.

He saw the horse and stopped in mid-stride with head turned sharply in June's direction, throat and muzzle slightly uplifted as his nostrils quivered and dilated to sniff the morning breeze. Then his full-throated alarm rang out, "Aiow!" and again "Aiow! Aiow!" Instantaneously does and fawns vanished as did the stags to leave the scene empty. Not a rustle could be heard.

June smiled contentedly and loosened the reins in her hand, urging Tony, her mount, forward with a nudge of her knees. She was filled with the joy of living.

The crowing of silver-hackled jungle-cocks greeted her from the heavy trees that bordered the road to her left and sloped down into a verdant valley, as they hailed the rising sun. Their calls were intermingled with the sharply different and persistently provoking cries of spur-fowl. Away in the distance the cacophonous cries of pea-fowl answered one another, a fitting background of jungle music. Birds, large and small, twittered everywhere. Crested rosy-cheeked bulbuls chirped in the lantana bushes, a white paradise-bird with trailing tail of two long feathers flew into some clumps of bamboo that grew ahead, while a red fly-catcher bird showed itself for an instant as it fluttered above.

Everything was peaceful and June rode on, keeping to the centre of the path. Consciously, as the distance from the forest-bungalow increased, she found herself becoming nervous at the thought of the man-eater. What if the brute was to suddenly spring from the jungle on either side?

She had gone perhaps three miles when the road bifurcated, a portion turning to the left and the other climbing uphill to the right. There was no sign-post to be seen. June had been told that an estate existed somewhere in the vicinity, but which of the paths led there she did not know. On an impulse, she decided to follow the one going to the left, hoping that it would not lead to the plantation. After some distance the track started going downhill and a little later she found herself on the bed of a stream.

At that time of the year it was just a trickle of water, burbling between boulders and purling over the lesser stones. Her mount crossed, his hooves splashing through and rattling on the loose pebbles. Then the track led upwards as it negotiated the further bank.

A snarling, blood-chilling, frightful roar rent the silence as Tony was climbing this. Then a ghastly scream rang out from the jungle to the right.

"Ar-ree-eee-aah! Ar-ree-eee-aah!"

The horse stopped for a moment and whinnied loudly, trembling in terror as it laid its ears back sharply. The scream was repeated, more agonised, appealing and piteous than before, to end in a series of gurgling, gasping sounds. There came a succession of deep-throated, worrying snarls.

June's horse bolted.

She tried to stop Tony but her efforts were fruitless. The terrified horse galloped madly forward to-put as much distance as he could between himself and that frightful sound which instinct told Tony had been made by the king of jungle-killers—a tiger!

And June knew a tiger had made them as it hurled itself upon some unfortunate animal, perhaps a sambar, whose life-blood at that very moment was spilling upon the jungle sward while it died in dreadful agony in that sudden, cruel ambush.

She did not know how far they had gone when she sensed the horse slowing down. At the same time, she became aware that the usual vista of jungle undergrowth had given way to rows of tightly-packed coffee bushes growing between parallel lines of silver-oak trees, planted to provide them with shade. June realised that the turning she had taken had been the wrong one and led to the plantation she had been told about.

Just then a jeep rounded the corner ahead of her and approached, lurching along the broken track. It came nearer. Beneath the mud-stained tarpaulin hood Juno saw a European gazing at her. He was dressed in khaki and had the brightest grey-green eyes that ever she had seen.

John Greystone observed the wild-eyed appearance of the horse and the sweat that seeped through its skin to the surface in damp patches. He noticed the young lady who rode upon it and that her shirt was awry at the neck. Her wide-brimmed khaki hat had slipped off her head and was being held at the back by the chin strap now resting against her throat. John also perceived the rifle across her shoulder.

He brought the jeep to a stop as he drew abreast, and craning his head to the left, said a pleasant "Good-morning". June was surprised at the sight of this man before her.

When she heard his greeting, she tugged harder on the reins, and her mount, because of the human company they had met rather than the pull of his rider, came to a halt.

"Good-morning", she returned demurely.

Unaccustomed to the company of strangers, she felt distinctly shy.

John noticed this and sought to make conversation. "I can't help being curious. It's most unusual to meet a lady riding alone on these roads, even if she's armed". He smiled as his glance shifted to the weapon. And then he added, "I don't suppose you know there's a man-eater in this area".

To June he seemed so polite and nice. Besides, he was undeniably handsome.

"I'm the daughter of the new Forest Ranger", she explained. "We've heard about this man-eater and Dad was rather anxious when I came out riding this morning. But I wouldn't listen to him. Tony", she inclined her head to indicate that was the horse's name, "took fright just after we crossed the bed of a stream", and June went on to relate all that had happened.

"I wonder", she concluded, and John could see the tremor that passed through her frame, "if it could've been the man-eater".

Greystone's face became serious. "Good heavens! It probably was", he exclaimed. "There is one for certain and it has killed several of my coolies. From all reports, he's the only tiger in this area. I'm glad he found something to kill, or...or...” he hesitated, and then blurted out, "he may have killed you".

June did not answer. The pallor of her countenance beneath the brown skin indicated she had grasped the significance of his words.

"By the way", John went on, "I don't have the pleasure of knowing your name. I'm John Greystone, owner of this plantation. It's called Rob Roy Estate".

June replied, "My name's June Gardner".

"Would you care to ride down to the bungalow and meet my wife?" he inquired, "I'm sure Ruth would be delighted. You can also give Tony a rest. In fact,", he added in a serious tone, "I had better drive you back to wherever you live and the horse can be sent around later. It would be foolhardy to go back alone, don't you think?"

June's shyness made her inclined to refuse. But the idea of returning with Tony across that dreadful stream, bordered by dense jungle, where the tiger might still be lurking, was indeed terrifying; and in any case, she would like to meet another woman. Strangely, she found herself slightly resentful of the fact that that woman happened to be this rather nice man's wife.

"I'll come", she answered simply.

"That's nice", John heard himself saying, "Our bungalow is just a mile from here. If you canter ahead, I'll follow slowly in the jeep".

June persuaded Tony to break into a trot. Feeling himself safe, the horse had regained his composure and it was not long afterwards that she entered the grounds of the house and dismounted outside the portico. John had followed closely and advanced to take the animal's reins from her hand.

In the meantime, Ruth observed their arrival and came down the front steps, somewhat in wonder, to meet them.

"My wife—Ruth. This is Miss June Gardner", John introduced, going on to explain how he had met June.

"How thrilling!" exclaimed Ruth, "I would've been scared to death and fallen off the horse had I been in your place. Come in and tell me more about it".

"Yes, do come Miss Gardner", added John, "I'll attend to Tony".

The two women went into the verandah, where June settled herself in one of the large cane chairs and began telling her companion the details of her adventure. In a few minutes, John rejoined them.

After June had finished speaking, he said "We must invite Miss Gardner and her father to tea someday. She'll be company for you and I would like to meet Mr. Gardner. As a Forest Officer, I'm sure he must have many thrilling stories to relate".

Ruth was eyeing the girl closely while her husband spoke.

"Do you and your father live all alone in the jungle?" she queried.

"From the time I was born", June explained. "After mum died of cholera, daddy had no one to look after him and so I took her place".

"But don't you feel dreadfully lonely?" Ruth persisted, "don't you long for some form of social life; for company of some kind?"

June smiled, "No, I don't. On the other hand, we're happy and contented. In fact, I wouldn't know how to behave if I suddenly met a lot of ladies and gentlemen. You see, I'm not used to them".

June's frankness puzzled Ruth. Here was a girl who delighted in being alone while she was pining for company.

What made the difference?”

Then Ruth thought she found the solution.

"I've not been long in India, so please excuse me asking. You and Mr. Gardner—you're Eurasians, are you not?"

Perhaps that was what made the difference.

A tinge of colour rushed to June's face as she answered quickly, "We're Anglo-Indians".

"Is that so?" Ruth mused, and after a slight pause, “Eurasians and Anglo-Indians—what exactly is the difference?"

June felt herself becoming confused by these questions. Was this woman just curious or ignorant? Or was there hidden sarcasm in her tone?"

After some hesitation, she explained. "Eurasians are the descendants of English people who married Indians, while Anglo-Indians come from English stock who have settled and lived in India for a long time—like Dad and myself".

"I see", commented Mrs. Greystone. "You really must excuse my ignorance again, June. But how is it you are brown? Does the sun really do that to English people who live for long in India? Because if that's it, I shall have to look after my complexion".

Spoken quite unintentionally, the words went home. June turned a coppery red as she blushed beneath her tan. Tears of shame welled in her eyes. She tried to reply but could not. Springing to her feet, she turned and ran down the steps, passed the porch, and reached the drive-way.

John heard what his wife had said. He flushed hotly. "That was damned tactless of you. I asked the girl to come here thinking she might be a companion as you're always complaining of being lonely".

"So you brought me a Eurasian for company? That was thoughtful of you, indeed!" Ruth spat the words at him.

John did not answer. He followed June into the garden and found her beneath an acacia tree, sobbing silently.

Approaching, he coughed discreetly and murmured in a low tone, "I'm awfully sorry, Miss Gardner, for my wife's rudeness. You see, she's a new-comer to India and doesn't understand these things. Believe me, she did not realise the hurtfulness of what she said".

June spun around, her fists clenched in anger, knuckles contrasting whitely against the brown skin. Tears glistened on her black eye-lashes and rolled down her cheeks, splashing upon the khaki shirt and marking the material.

By God, John realised, this girl is beautiful! She looked an object of sadness and pity. Yet there was something of grandeur in her squared shoulders and defiant stance.

"Whether she meant it or not, she has shown how you English people feel towards us. You despise us because we're dark. I'm a half-caste Eurasian girl. There is Indian blood in my veins".

To John she appeared all the more beautiful.

Furiously, June continued. "And I'm proud of it. I hate your kind of people".

When she stopped for breath, he began, "Listen, Miss Gardner, I'm most frightfully sorry and apologise…"

"Save your apologies for someone of your sort", she cut in abruptly, "please show me where you've kept my horse".

"Great Scott! You don't mean to tell me you are going to ride back alone! What about the tiger?"

"Hang the tiger!" June snapped, "at least he's not a snob. What's more, thank God he's Indian—too!"

John did not reply as she brushed past him and walked to the rear of the bungalow. There she saw Tony tethered in the motor-shed. June untied the reins, climbed into the saddle, and rode up the drive without even a backward glance.

As she passed, John called after her, "By the way, Miss Gardner; I was born in India, too".

About an hour later Tony came to the place where the tiger's roars had frightened them that morning. June kept a tight grasp on the reins. Inwardly she quailed, but outwardly exulted she had shown that horrid English couple she preferred risking an encounter with the dreaded tiger to remaining a minute longer in their ill-mannered company.