Read Aloud the Text Content

This audio was created by Woord's Text to Speech service by content creators from all around the world.

Text Content or SSML code:

2. The Bellundur Ogre iP, ellundur is a hamlet situated on the shoulder of a hill and about three miles from the village of Tagarthy, in the district of Shimoga, in Mysore state. For centuries this part of Mysore has been the home of tigers, which had become so numerous as to have almost eliminated, simply by devouring them, their lesser cousins, the more subtle but far less powerful panthers that also, not long ago, roamed in large numbers through the area. These lesser cats, as a matter of fact, had created havoc in their time. Far bolder and more clever, and more difficult to circumvent, they could hide themselves better, being smaller than tigers; they haunted the precincts of villages which they raided systematically each night after sundown, carrying away fowls, dogs, goats, sheep and calves with equal disdain and impartiality. Humans they seldom harmed unless they were wounded, but on those rare occasions when they were guilty of this crime, to exact retribution against them was difficult because of the cover afforded by the dense jungles of the area, well watered as they were by heavy monsoon rains. When my story opens, however, tigers were the ruling factor, while in Bellundur lived a necromancer who was reputed for his ability to provide charms and talismans of all sorts for all purposes. These last were said to be particularly efficacious in procuring a loved one, or contrarily, in ridding yourself of one whom you did not love quite so well. They were also rumoured to be very effective in securing a job that had been applied for or the success of petition. Among his other abilities, this magician was far famed as possessing the power, by charms and incantations, to ‘tie up' the jungle, so that any hunter operating in that area would meet with total failure. The game would either not appear before his rifle; or if they did, the rifle would not go off; or if it did go off, the bullet would not strike the quarry even at a few yards' range. I had met this character some years ago, and have written about him in one of my earlier stories. 1 Like most members of his calling, he enjoyed a little flattery. Otherwise, I had found him quite friendly and had found nothing wrong in his weakness. After all, we all like to be flattered. But the 'Ogre of Bellundur,' about which I am going to tell you, began its career in more or less the usual way, as a very ordinary and inoffensive tiger. Nothing was heard of it in its younger days. Evidently it had confined its attentions to killing and eating spotted deer, sambar and pig, which swarmed everywhere in those times. Then the government began encouraging programmes of cattle-rearing, and as rich pasturage abounded, herds of cattle were introduced which multiplied into many thousands within a short period, to the detriment of the wild deer and pig that previously had grazed undisturbed. ‘The Ogre,’ as it came to be known later, now made its presence felt by varying its taste for wild game with a liking for prime beef, and this inclination grew rapidly to the exclusion of any other kind of meat. It killed and it ate, and it ate and it killed, till it had accounted for many herds of cattle and the villagers at last began to feel that something should be done. The Indian villager is a man of unbounded patience, an attribute easier to understand if one observes his complete apathy, his capacity for resignation and for accepting whatever misfortune it may be the will of God to bestow upon him. So, when I tell you that at last the villagers had had enough of this tiger and were determined to put a stop to its depredations you will realize that the Ogre had really gone too far. They decided to set a trap, catch it and then kill it. A deep rectangular hole was dug in the centre of a game trail; the mouth was carefully concealed by thin interlaced bamboos covered with leaves and twigs, and the bait, in the form of the least valuable calf in the village, was tied to a stake at the farther end of the rectangular pit. A direct approach to the bait from any other direction except across the rectangular pit was made impracticable for the tiger by a vast mass of thorns packed tightly around it on both sides and beyond, leaving only the one approach open. Everything went according to plan and on the third night the tiger fell into the pit. The following morning all the inhabitants of Bellundur village turned out, including the necromancer, to gloat over their erstwhile enemy and throw firebrands at it, before putting it to death by the simple but rather slow process of spearing it from above. Evidently nobody had a gun, and the question of cruelty, of course, did not occur to anybody. For was not this animal the tiger which had killed and devoured so many of their cattle? Not only did the inhabitants of Bellundur have no guns, but they did not appear to be very rich in spears either. I discovered afterwards that just two people had spears, or articles that might pass as such. One was a short affair, less than four feet long and entirely blunt at the end. The description fitted more a crowbar than a spear. The second was a true spear and belonged to the local temple. It was reputed to have been used in a war two and a half centuries ago, but was now as blunt as the aforementioned crowbar, having been employed many times for digging yams out of the earth. In any case, the shafts of both weapons were too short to reach the tiger from the surface of the pit, but this mattered little, as each of their owners was confident that, with a single throw of his particular weapon, he could transfix and kill the imprisoned beast. Much argument is said to have arisen as to who should cast his weapon first. Finally, but I do not know on what grounds, the owner of the crowbar won the dispute. Taking careful aim, he hurled his weapon; no sooner had it left his hand than its blunt point was deflected and the side of the weapon rather than its blunt point, struck the flank of the tiger with a dull thud. As might have been expected, the tiger did not take lightly to this form of treatment. It roared its defiance and glared up at its tormentors. There was widespread tittering amongst the assembled crowd as the second spear-man, after glancing contemptuously at the crestfallen owner of the crowbar, prepared to make his cast. The 250-year-old spear flew downwards to its target, the blunt point embedding itself fairly in the tiger's hindquarters. Now Bellundur was totally unarmed! And the Ogre lost its temper. With a burst of unexpected energy, it sprang upwards to the rim of the pit, groping with the talons of its forefeet. They reached it, held and embedded themselves in the soft soil. The hind feet, kicking the air madly, found purchase against the sides of the pit and levered the beast upwards. And the next moment the tiger was free, leaping out of the mouth of the pit like a demon from hell, and far more dangerous. Just one of the crowd stood in its path to freedom; all the rest had fled. The tiger leaped over the man before it, kicking backwards with all four feet extended, and the claws of one of those dreadful feet met the back of the man's skull before he, in turn, could gather his wits to run. It was only a glancing blow, comparatively light considering the force that the tiger had put into it, for if the paw had struck the head fully the skull would have been smashed like an eggshell. As it was, the tips of the claws caught in the skin at the back of the man's neck, and the weight of the tiger, as it leaped over the man's head, did the rest. Then the tiger had gone. The man fell where he had been standing but he was quite alive. The whole of his scalp, removed neatly from the bone, now hung over his face, the long hair streaming down before him instead of behind. It took three days for this man to die, for to the very last moment he lived in the hope that his scalp could be put back. He was the Ogre's first victim although admittedly unintentionally so. Naturally, with the healing of his wound, the tiger grew cunning. Other baits were tied out for it with various forms of traps, but they were studiously ignored. All its killings of cattle thereafter were done in broad daylight, generally in the afternoons while the herds were placidly resting after having grazed all morning and their attendants were huddled asleep in the shade of the bushes. Those who were awake or had been awakened by the short cry of the stricken victim, at first attempted to drive the Ogre off by shouting and throwing stones. But the Ogre soon put a stop to such tactics by leaping upon one of the graziers and mauling him severely. Strangely enough this man made a complete recovery, though the lesson that had been given was Salutary enough. Thereafter, at sight or sound of the tiger all herdsmen fled, leaving their charges to its mercy. The situation at Bellundur went from bad to worse. Cattle owners could no longer trust their animals to the forest for grazing, but endeavoured to feed them at home, and this of course cost a lot of money. Correspondingly, the tiger's hunger grew as the supply of Bellundur beef was cut down, so it extended the range of its operations to include Tagarthy and some of the smaller neighbouring hamlets. Its fame for daring as a cattle-lifter began to spread far and wide. That was how a gentleman, whom we shall call Mr Johnson, came to hear about the tiger.