When the pony was ready, I stood at his
head prepared to mount and dash out as soon as the dog should again lift
up his voice.
head prepared to mount and dash out as soon as the dog should again lift
up his voice.
Kipling - Poems
He could earn more by doing his
legitimate work. He never varies the tale in the telling, and grows
very hot and indignant when he thinks of the disrespectful treatment
he received. He wrote this quite straightforwardly at first, but he has
since touched it up in places and introduced Moral Reflections, thus:
In the beginning it all arose from a slight attack of fever. My work
necessitated my being in camp for some months between Pakpattan and
Muharakpur--a desolate sandy stretch of country as every one who has had
the misfortune to go there may know. My coolies were neither more nor
less exasperating than other gangs, and my work demanded sufficient
attention to keep me from moping, had I been inclined to so unmanly a
weakness.
On the 23d December, 1884, I felt a little feverish. There was a full
moon at the time, and, in consequence, every dog near my tent was baying
it. The brutes assembled in twos and threes and drove me frantic. A few
days previously I had shot one loud-mouthed singer and suspended his
carcass in terrorem about fifty yards from my tent-door. But his friends
fell upon, fought for, and ultimately devoured the body; and, as it
seemed to me, sang their hymns of thanksgiving afterward with renewed
energy.
The light-heartedness which accompanies fever acts differently on
different men. My irritation gave way, after a short time, to a fixed
determination to slaughter one huge black and white beast who had been
foremost in song and first in flight throughout the evening. Thanks to
a shaking hand and a giddy head I had already missed him twice with both
barrels of my shot-gun, when it struck me that my best plan would be to
ride him down in the open and finish him off with a hog-spear. This, of
course, was merely the semi-delirious notion of a fever patient; but I
remember that it struck me at the time as being eminently practical and
feasible.
I therefore ordered my groom to saddle Pornic and bring him round
quietly to the rear of my tent.
When the pony was ready, I stood at his
head prepared to mount and dash out as soon as the dog should again lift
up his voice. Pornic, by the way, had not been out of his pickets for a
couple of days; the night air was crisp and chilly; and I was armed
with a specially long and sharp pair of persuaders with which I had been
rousing a sluggish cob that afternoon. You will easily believe, then,
that when he was let go he went quickly. In one moment, for the brute
bolted as straight as a die, the tent was left far behind, and we were
flying over the smooth sandy soil at racing speed.
In another we had passed the wretched dog, and I had almost forgotten
why it was that I had taken the horse and hogspear.
The delirium of fever and the excitement of rapid motion through the
air must have taken away the remnant of my senses. I have a faint
recollection of standing upright in my stirrups, and of brandishing my
hog-spear at the great white Moon that looked down so calmly on my mad
gallop; and of shouting challenges to the camel-thorn bushes as they
whizzed past. Once or twice I believe, I swayed forward on Pornic's
neck, and literally hung on by my spurs--as the marks next morning
showed.
The wretched beast went forward like a thing possessed, over what seemed
to be a limitless expanse of moonlit sand. Next, I remember, the ground
rose suddenly in front of us, and as we topped the ascent I saw the
waters of the Sutlej shining like a silver bar below. Then Pornic
blundered heavily on his nose, and we rolled together down some unseen
slope.
I must have lost consciousness, for when I recovered I was lying on
my stomach in a heap of soft white sand, and the dawn was beginning to
break dimly over the edge of the slope down which I had fallen. As
the light grew stronger I saw that I was at the bottom of a horse-shoe
shaped crater of sand, opening on one side directly on to the shoals of
the Sutlej. My fever had altogether left me, and, with the exception of
a slight dizziness in the head, I felt no had effects from the fall over
night.
Pornic, who was standing a few yards away, was naturally a good deal
exhausted, but had not hurt himself in the least. His saddle, a favorite
polo one, was much knocked about, and had been twisted under his belly.
legitimate work. He never varies the tale in the telling, and grows
very hot and indignant when he thinks of the disrespectful treatment
he received. He wrote this quite straightforwardly at first, but he has
since touched it up in places and introduced Moral Reflections, thus:
In the beginning it all arose from a slight attack of fever. My work
necessitated my being in camp for some months between Pakpattan and
Muharakpur--a desolate sandy stretch of country as every one who has had
the misfortune to go there may know. My coolies were neither more nor
less exasperating than other gangs, and my work demanded sufficient
attention to keep me from moping, had I been inclined to so unmanly a
weakness.
On the 23d December, 1884, I felt a little feverish. There was a full
moon at the time, and, in consequence, every dog near my tent was baying
it. The brutes assembled in twos and threes and drove me frantic. A few
days previously I had shot one loud-mouthed singer and suspended his
carcass in terrorem about fifty yards from my tent-door. But his friends
fell upon, fought for, and ultimately devoured the body; and, as it
seemed to me, sang their hymns of thanksgiving afterward with renewed
energy.
The light-heartedness which accompanies fever acts differently on
different men. My irritation gave way, after a short time, to a fixed
determination to slaughter one huge black and white beast who had been
foremost in song and first in flight throughout the evening. Thanks to
a shaking hand and a giddy head I had already missed him twice with both
barrels of my shot-gun, when it struck me that my best plan would be to
ride him down in the open and finish him off with a hog-spear. This, of
course, was merely the semi-delirious notion of a fever patient; but I
remember that it struck me at the time as being eminently practical and
feasible.
I therefore ordered my groom to saddle Pornic and bring him round
quietly to the rear of my tent.
When the pony was ready, I stood at his
head prepared to mount and dash out as soon as the dog should again lift
up his voice. Pornic, by the way, had not been out of his pickets for a
couple of days; the night air was crisp and chilly; and I was armed
with a specially long and sharp pair of persuaders with which I had been
rousing a sluggish cob that afternoon. You will easily believe, then,
that when he was let go he went quickly. In one moment, for the brute
bolted as straight as a die, the tent was left far behind, and we were
flying over the smooth sandy soil at racing speed.
In another we had passed the wretched dog, and I had almost forgotten
why it was that I had taken the horse and hogspear.
The delirium of fever and the excitement of rapid motion through the
air must have taken away the remnant of my senses. I have a faint
recollection of standing upright in my stirrups, and of brandishing my
hog-spear at the great white Moon that looked down so calmly on my mad
gallop; and of shouting challenges to the camel-thorn bushes as they
whizzed past. Once or twice I believe, I swayed forward on Pornic's
neck, and literally hung on by my spurs--as the marks next morning
showed.
The wretched beast went forward like a thing possessed, over what seemed
to be a limitless expanse of moonlit sand. Next, I remember, the ground
rose suddenly in front of us, and as we topped the ascent I saw the
waters of the Sutlej shining like a silver bar below. Then Pornic
blundered heavily on his nose, and we rolled together down some unseen
slope.
I must have lost consciousness, for when I recovered I was lying on
my stomach in a heap of soft white sand, and the dawn was beginning to
break dimly over the edge of the slope down which I had fallen. As
the light grew stronger I saw that I was at the bottom of a horse-shoe
shaped crater of sand, opening on one side directly on to the shoals of
the Sutlej. My fever had altogether left me, and, with the exception of
a slight dizziness in the head, I felt no had effects from the fall over
night.
Pornic, who was standing a few yards away, was naturally a good deal
exhausted, but had not hurt himself in the least. His saddle, a favorite
polo one, was much knocked about, and had been twisted under his belly.
