Chapter 18 Chapter 2 Marcia Van Giet
The next day, June 26, I was awakened by a familiar cry in the early morning.I get up right away.Captain Ord and Fox, his orderly, were talking loudly in the dining room of the Steam House.I got in right away.
Bonkers also came out of his room at this moment, and the captain shouted in his loud voice:
"Hey, Brother Bonkers, we've finally arrived! This time we're sure to stay for months, not a few hours' camp."
"Yes, Odd," replied the engineer, "you can arrange your hunting as you like, and the whistle of the Iron Behemoth will no longer remind you that we are on the way again."
"Did you hear that, Fox?"
"Understood, Captain," replied the orderly.
"God help me too!" Odd yelled. "I won't leave the Steam House until I've got my 50th tiger! 50th, Fox! I've got a feeling I'm not going to catch this tiger." The last one will be extremely difficult!"
"But we'll catch him!" said Fox.
"How do you know, Captain Ord?" I asked.
"Ah! Mokley, this is a premonition... just a hunter's premonition!"
"So from today onwards, you will go out for activities?" Bonkers asked again.
"As of today," Captain Ord replied. "Let's start by familiarizing ourselves with the terrain. We're going to survey the bottom mountain and go down to the Taliani Forest. I hope the tiger hasn't given up on this residential area!"
"Can you believe it?……"
"Ah! If so, how unlucky I am!"
"Unlucky! . . . in the Himalayas! . . . is that possible?" said the engineer, amused.
"Anyhow, take a walk!—Will you come with us, Mockley?" asked Captain Ord, turning to me.
"Of course."
"What about you, Bonkers?"
"I'll go too," replied the engineer, "and I think Morrow will join your ranks as I have...as a buff!"
"Oh!" Captain Ord said knowingly, "As a hobbyist, okay! But it must be a fully armed hobbyist! This is not going out for a walk with a cane! That would humiliate the beasts of Taliani! "
"It's a deal!" the engineer agreed.
"Well, Fox," said the captain to his orderly again, "this time we're right! We're in tiger country! Four Onfield carbines to the Colonel, Bonkers, Mork Ray and I use it, the rifle with the blaster is at your disposal and Gummi."
"Don't worry, Captain," Fox answered. "!"
It was thus agreed that the day should be spent exploring the Taliani forests that lie below our "sanitary station" in the lower Himalayas.After lunch, around 11 o'clock, Mr. Edward Morrow, Bonkers, Ord, Fox, Gumi and I all took up our weapons and set foot on the sloped downhill road leading to the plain together. The two dogs were intentionally left at the camp as they would not be used for this hunting trip.
Mark Nayer stayed in the "steam house" with Stoll, Karut, and the head chef to finish the settlement work.In addition, after two months of trekking, the "steel behemoth" also needs to be inspected, wiped and maintained from the inside to the outside.It was a time-consuming, delicate, and tricky job that would never put its full-time "elephant drivers"—boilermen and mechanics—out of work.
We set off from the summer resort station at 11 o'clock and walked for a few minutes. When we came to the first turning of the mountain road, the "steam house" behind us had disappeared into the dense forest.
The rain has stopped.Blown by the cool northeast wind, the clouds are irregular in shape, flickering back and forth in the sky.The sky is gray and gray—the temperature is suitable for walkers; but it also lacks the changes of light and shadow—the charm of this big forest.
If it is a straight mountain road, it will only take 25 to 30 minutes to go down to the foothills of 2000 meters, but this road is winding to ease the steepness of the slope, which is equivalent to increasing the length.Thus it took us at least an hour and a half to reach the uppermost edge of the Taliani Forest, some 500 or 600 feet above the plain.But along the way, everyone was in a very happy mood.
"Attention!" said Captain Ord at this moment. "We are entering the territory of tigers, lions, panthers, cheetahs and other animals of the Himalayas! It is good to kill the beasts, but it is better not to be wiped out by them! So let's not be too far apart from each other and be extra careful !"
Such an exhortation comes from a brave hunter, so it is of great significance.Therefore, everyone is doubly vigilant.The carbines and rifles were loaded, the action checked, and the action removed in the safety slot.Be ready to change at any time.
Let me add a little more: In the Indian forests, in addition to carnivores, you must also watch out for the large number of poisonous snakes.Snakes, green snakes, rattlesnakes, and many other snake species are extremely venomous.Every year, the number of people and animals poisoned by the bites of these poisonous snakes is five to six times that of those killed by wild animals.
Therefore, it is prudent to walk through the Taliani woods, look around, look carefully before landing and reaching out, and keep your ears on the slightest sound from under the grass or in the bushes.
Around 12:30 noon, we got under the canopy of some towering trees at the edge of the forest.Their tall foliage shaded over the main roads over which the Iron Behemoth sailed with ease, dragging its train.In fact, this forest area has long been developed to be suitable for mountain people to transport felled timber in carts.The clear ruts on the soft clay are evidence of this.These main roads follow the course of the mountains, cover the whole of the Taliani region, and connect with each other clearings where the woodcutter's axes are here and there; Inserted into the unfathomable timber forest.
We then proceeded along these boulevards, more geometers than hunters, trying to ascertain their general direction.There was no sound in the empty woods, not a single beast roar could be heard.However, some large paw prints recently left on the ground prove that the carnivores are far from extinct in Taliani.
At last the group took a path that slanted to the right at the foot of a certain ridge, and when they turned a corner of it, Captain Ord, who was walking in front, suddenly yelled and stopped everyone.
Only twenty paces away, in a corner of a glade surrounded by tall Pendanus trees, stood a building that was, at least in appearance, rather peculiar.Not a house, for it had neither chimney nor window; not a hunter's hide, for there were no holes or holes for firing, but rather an Indian grave, buried in the deepest part of the woods.
It was actually an elongated cube constructed of vertical juxtapositions of logs, all firmly driven into the ground, and held together at the top by branches like a broad frieze.There were also some horizontal logs, tenoned firmly, on which a roof was laid.It was obvious that the designers of this hut wanted it to be indestructible on all sides and stand any test.The cabin is approximately 6 feet high, 12 feet long, and 5 feet wide.There seemed to be no exit, except hidden behind a plank on the front whose top rounded head was a little higher than the entire cubic structure.
From the roof stood some long flexible poles, strangely arranged and interconnected.Supporting the skeleton was a horizontal lever, from the end of which hung a round knot, or large ring of rattan.
"Hey! What is this?" I exclaimed.
"This," replied Bonkers, after examining it carefully, "is nothing but a mousetrap. But I'll let you guess what kind of 'mouse' it's used for!"
"Tiger trap?" Captain Ord asked aloud.
"Yes," replied Bonkers, "the door of the trap is that plank of wood which is fastened with vine rings, and which falls down whenever an animal touches the swing rod within."
"This is the first time I've seen such a trap in the forests of India. It's a 'mousetrap' indeed! But it's not worth it for a hunter!" Ord said.
"Not much use against tigers either!" Fox added.
"Probably so," replied Bonkers, "but if you're just trying to kill ferocious beasts, and not hunting them for fun, the best trap is the one that will kill the most. I think this setup So ingenious enough to attract and hold any animal, no matter how vicious or valiant!"
"Let me also say a few words," Colonel Moreau said, "Since the balance of the swing rod controlling the trap door has been broken, it is likely that an animal fell into it."
"We'll find out!" cried Captain Ord, "in case the 'rat' isn't dead! . . . "
The captain added to the movement as he spoke, his fingers snapping the cocking of the carbine.Everyone followed his lead and got ready to shoot.
Of course, we're just guessing that the wooden structure might have been a trap, of the same kind as those commonly seen in the jungles of Malaysia.But even if it wasn't the work of some Indian, it had all the elements that make these lethal mechanisms effective: extreme sensitivity, proven robustness.
After we took the necessary precautions, Captain Ord, Fox, and Gumi approached the cabin a little bit, and they wanted to go around it first.But there is no gap between the upright logs, and the situation inside cannot be seen at all.
They listened carefully again.There was no sound that indicated the existence of living things inside, and the wooden house was as dead as a tomb.
Captain Ord and the two men circled back to the front of the house.This time it was confirmed that the movable door panel was sliding up and down in two tooth slots.Therefore, just lift it up to get into the trap.
"Not a sound! Not a breath! The trap is empty!" said Captain Ord, putting his ear to the door and listening.
"Anyway, be careful!" Colonel Moreau exhorted.
After speaking, he walked to the left side of the clearing and sat down on a wooden stake.I also sat next to him.
"Gumi, get on!" Captain Ord ordered.
Gumi is short in stature but moves freely. He is as agile as an ape and as light as a leopard. He is a really clever Indian "clown", and he naturally understands what the captain wants to do.His intelligence can ensure that others' expectations of him will not be disappointed.I saw him jumping onto the roof, and with the help of his wrist, he climbed to the top pole of the structure in a short while.Then he slid along the lever all the way to the vine ring, pressing it under his own weight to the top of the plank blocking the exit.
The ring knot is then placed on the tenon shoulder cut out on the head of the door panel.Now, just put weight on the other end of the lever to lift the board.
In this way, we have to work hard together in our team.So Colonel Moreau, Bunks, Fox, and I went to the back of the trap and tried to get the swing rod to work.
The gummies are left on to re-open the lever if it gets in the way and cannot swing freely.
"Friends," Captain Ord called to us, "if I need my help, I'll go there, but if you can do without me, I'd rather stay near the trap. That way, if a tiger gets out of it, at least the A bullet will say hello to it as it passes by!"
"Could it be number 42?" I quipped to the captain.
"Why doesn't it count? If it falls under my gun, at least it will die a good death!"
"..." the engineer reminded.
"Especially when the bear is most likely to be a tiger! . . . " added Colonel Moreau.
"Let's do it, my friends," Bunks yelled, "Come on!"
Thick door panels are heavy.And it slides quite stagnantly in the alveolar.But we finally shook it up.It wobbled for a while, and finally hung about a foot above the ground.
Captain Ord bowed, raised his carbine, and tried to see if there was a huge claw or a panting mouth protruding from the opening of the trap.But still can't see anything.
"Keep it up, friends!" Bunkers shouted.
Thanks to Gumi climbing to the back of the lever and pressing down a few more times, the door panel began to lift little by little.Soon the opening was wide enough to allow a large animal to pass through.
No animals showed up.
However, after all, there is another possibility: the prisoner in the trap retreated to the most hidden place in the prison after hearing the noise around him.Perhaps it was just waiting for the right moment to leap out of the house, knock down anyone who stood in its way, and disappear into the depths of the woods.
It makes my heart pound when I think about it.
I saw Captain Ord take a few steps forward, his finger on the trigger of his carbine, trying to see into the deepest part of the trap.
By this time, the planks had been fully raised, allowing a great deal of sunlight to pour into the cabin through the opening.
All of a sudden, there was a slight noise inside the board wall announcing the "actor" coming to the stage, followed by a muffled grunt, or rather a contented yawn, which made me feel very strange.
Apparently an animal was sleeping inside and we had just rudely woken it up.
Captain Ord was still approaching, aiming his carbine at a bunch of quivering objects he could vaguely see in the gloom.
The animals inside suddenly moved.A terrifying cry burst out, followed by the following words, in pure English pronunciation:
"Don't shoot, God! Don't shoot!"
A man bursts out of the trap.
We were so astonished that we let go of the lever mechanism, and the thick door panel fell with a dull thud, blocking the opening again.
The uninvited guest who had just appeared walked towards Captain Ord, who aimed his carbine at his chest. The man said in a very pretentious tone with an exaggerated gesture:
"Stay away your weapons, sir. You are not dealing with a Taliani tiger!"
Captain Ord hesitated for a while, and finally lowered the muzzle of his carbine.
"Who are we honored to be speaking to?" Bonkers asked as he walked up to the man.
"Naturalist Marcia van Geet, permanent resident of the Pachyderms, Slottidae, Plantidae, Proboscis, Carnivora, and other mammals operated by Charlie Rose, London, and Hagenbeek, Hamburg supplier!"
Then, the person pointed at us with a circular gesture:
"Gentlemen……?"
"Colonel Moreau and his traveling companions," Bonkers replied, pointing to us as well.
"Walking in the forests of the Himalayas?" the animal dealer continued. "A charming excursion indeed! At your service, gentlemen, at your service!"
Who is this weirdo in front of us?Had he lost his mind when he was caught in a tiger trap?Is he a madman or a sane man with reason?Also, what kind of "two-handed" animal is this guy?
We'll get to the answers one by one, and then we'll get to know the man who calls himself, and did, "the naturalist."
The animal supplier of the zoo, Mr. Marcia Van Geet, is a man in his 50s who wears glasses.His beardless face, twinkling eyes, soaring nose, always-moving body, and expressive movements that fit perfectly with every word uttered from his big mouth... all make him a The most famous representative of the veteran comedians of the provinces.Who in the world has not met an old actor like this--the one who spent his whole life in the narrow space between the footlights and the bottom curtain, on the "stage left" of the theater where the melodrama was staged (to the actors in terms of) and "Stage Right".They talk tirelessly, gesticulate embarrassingly, and pose pretentiously; they hold their heads high and often throw them back, which are actually empty in old age because they were not well filled in their prime.In this Mr. Marcia van Giet, there is undoubtedly the shadow of this kind of old artist.
I once heard an anecdote about an absurd opera singer who thought he should emphasize every line of his characters with a special gesture.
So, in the opera "Massaniero", when he began to sing aloud:
Si d'un pecheur Napolitain... At the end of the sentence, he stretched his right arm towards the theater hall and shook it violently, as if there was a hooked northern pike hanging at the end of the fishing rod.And then continued singing:
Le Ciel voulait faire un monarque, this time, he raised one hand up, meaning the blue sky, and drew a circle around the high head with the other hand, indicating that it was a crown.
Rebelle aux aux arrets du destin, when he sang this line, he exerted all his strength, as if he was stubbornly resisting a force that pushed him back.
Il dirait en guidant sa barque... Then he waved his arms violently from left to right, and from right to left, and one pair steered the oars, showing his skillful skill in navigating a small boat.
These practices, which have become accustomed to the above-mentioned singers, are almost also the habits of the animal dealer Marcia van Geet.His use of elegant words made his speech very uncomfortable, because it was difficult for them to escape the influence of his exaggerated gestures.
We later learned from Marcia van Giet that he was a natural history teacher at Musaan de Rotterdam, but his teaching career was unsuccessful.Needless to say, this venerable figure was always a source of laughter, and the students flocked there more for the fun than for the lectures.Finally, tired of being a mediocre teacher of theoretical zoology, he came to India to conduct field zoology "research".He was very good at this job, and soon became the official animal supplier of several large companies in Hamburg and London, and many public and private zoos in America and Europe usually buy their "goods" from these companies.
At the moment Marcia van Geet is in the Taliani region because of a large order of animals for the European market.His camp was less than two miles from the trap cabin from which we had just rescued him.
But why did the animal supplier fall into the trap?That was the first question Bonkers posed to him, and here is his answer, in a polished language mixed with prolific gestures:
"It happened yesterday. At that time, the sun was halfway through its daytime rotation. I suddenly wanted to go to a tiger trap that I had set with my own hands. So I left Weizha Village,--Gentlemen Definitely interested in being there--to this glade. The boys are busy with some urgent work, and I don't want to let them get out, so I'm alone. It's not prudent. When I Coming to the front of the cabin, the first thing I noticed was that the flap was still hanging in the air. From this I concluded logically that not a single beast had yet been caught. But I wanted to check that the bait was still there and that the lever mechanism Still functioning well. So I slipped nimbly through the narrow opening."
As he spoke, one of Marcia van Kitt's hands flexed gracefully, making the movement of a snake gliding in the tall grass.
"After walking to the trap," continued the dealer, "I checked the piece of goat meat. Its smell can attract the owners of this forest. The bait was safe. But just as I stepped out The moment my arm inadvertently touched the lever; the frame of the pole gave way, the trap door of the cabin fell, and I fell into a trap I had set, from which I had no means of getting out."
Marcia van Giet paused here deliberately, so that everyone could better understand the seriousness of his situation at the time.
"However, gentlemen," he said afterwards, "I will tell you the truth, at first I looked at the matter on the bright side. In prison, all right! No jailer opened the door, and I admit it! But I I firmly believe that the people under my command will feel anxious about my long-term disappearance when they see that I have not returned to Weizha Village, so they will look for me everywhere and find me here sooner or later. This is just a matter of time."
"It doesn't matter if you're in a beast's den, if you dare to dream about it?" A French fable writer said so. I did what I said. But the time passed, and the situation didn't change at all. As night fell, people also felt hungry. So I thought it would be best to use sleep to trick my stomach. I made up my mind like a philosopher, and I fell into a deep sleep. The night was very quiet in the depths of the forest. There was no sound to disturb my good dreams, if I was not caught in the end I was awakened by a strange noise, perhaps I had been asleep. The door of the cabin was lifted, and the sun streamed into my dim dwelling, just to rush outside! … When I saw the murder weapon pointed at my chest, I What a bewilderment! It takes only a moment for me to be shot! The moment of freedom will become the last moment of life!... Fortunately, the Captain is still willing to admit that I am his kind... Now I only have to I want to thank you, gentlemen, for saving me."
This is the statement of the animal supplier.Admittedly, we had a hard time not laughing at his funny tones and gestures.
"Sir, so your camp is built in this area of Taliani?" Bonkers asked him.
"Yes, sir," replied Marcia Van Kitt. "As I have just now had the honor of telling you, my village of Waisha is only two miles away, and if gentlemen wish to visit, I shall be more than happy to receive you."
"Of course, Mr. Van Giet, we will call on you!" replied Colonel Moreau.
"We are hunters, and fenced villages are very interesting to us." Captain Ord added.
"Hunter?" cried Marcia Van Kitt. "hunter!"
The expression he couldn't hide showed that he didn't value the descendants of Nemrod very much.
"You hunt wild animals... to kill them?" he asked the captain.
"Exactly," Odd replied.
"But I just want to catch them!" The animal supplier mocked him and then raised his head proudly.
"Okay, Mr. Van Giet, then we can't form a competition!" Captain Ord was not to be outdone.
The animal supplier shook his head.However, our status as a hunter does not allow him to withdraw his invitation just now.
"Follow me, gentlemen!" he said, bowing gracefully.
Suddenly there were some shouts in the woods, and then half a dozen Indians appeared around the corner of the road leading to the glade.
"Ah! It's mine," said Marcia Van Kitt.
Then, coming up to us, he put a finger on his slightly pursed lips, and exhorted:
"Don't say a word about my adventures! Don't let the folks in Weizha Village know that I fell into my own trap like a stupid animal! Otherwise, the majesty I should maintain in their eyes will be weakened!"
The performance of our commitment reassures the veterinarians.
"Master," an Indian came up and said, his expressionless but alert face caught my attention, "Master, we have been looking for you for more than an hour but..."
"I have been with these gentlemen, and they would have liked to accompany me back to Waisha," replied Van Kitt, "but before leaving this clearing, the trap should be restored."
Following the order of the animal supplier, the Indians hung up the trap door again.
Marcia Van Kitt then invited us to take a look at the cabin.Captain Ord followed him in, and I followed.
The space still seemed a little cramped for our host's sweeping gestures: even here he performed as if in a salon.
"Congratulations," Captain Ord said after inspecting the trap. "It's wonderful to imagine!"
"Believe it or not, Mr. Captain," said Marcia van Goet. "This method of setting up an ambush is far superior to the pits full of pickets of old, and it is much better than hunting with a living knot tied to a bow of elastic branches. In the first case, the animal will pierced in the belly; the second method is easy to strangle them. Of course, if you just want to kill these beasts, it doesn't matter! But for the humble people before you, the important thing is to capture them alive and not hair No injuries."
"Obviously we do things differently," Colonel Ord replied.
"Maybe my way is better!" the animal supplier said immediately. "If we go to consult the beast..."
"I'm not going to ask them!" interrupted the captain.
It seems that it is difficult for Captain Ord and Marcia Van Giet to agree.
"Once you've got the game, how do you get it out of the cabin?" I asked the dealer.
"Push an iron cage with rollers in front of the thick wooden door, and the 'prisoners' will rush in automatically. I only need to let the buffalo pull the cage car back to the fence village with slow and steady steps."
As soon as he finished speaking, there was a burst of shouting outside.
The first thing Captain Ord and I did was to rush out of the cabin.
What's the matter?
It was a rattlesnake, the most venomous kind, which had just been cut in two by an Indian holding a tree branch, and the moment the poisonous snake threw itself on Colonel Moreau.
The Indian who beat the snake was the one I noticed earlier.His swift action, as we have seen, saved Mr. Edward Morrow from the brink of death.
The shout we heard just now came from a hired worker in Weizha Village. At this moment, he was lying on the ground, his whole body convulsed and twisted, and he was already dying.
The poisonous snake's severed head fell pitifully on both chests, biting itself with hooked teeth, and the unfortunate Indian swallowed his breath in less than a minute because the venom quickly permeated his whole body. Impossible to save him.
At first, we were all stunned by this terrible scene, and when we realized it, we all rushed towards Colonel Moreau.
"Aren't you hurt?" Bonkers asked, grabbing the colonel's hand.
"No, Bonkers, don't worry." Mr. Edward Morrow comforted him.
Then he got up and walked towards the Indian who saved his life:
"thank you, friend."
The Indian only made a gesture to show that there was nothing to be grateful for.
"What's your name?" Colonel Moreau asked him.
"Karagani," replied the Indian.
Notes:
Notes: