Tiger Tales

"Look, he said to his imagination, if this is how you're going to behave, I shan't bring you again."

Going Postal

Terry Pratchett

I remember reading The Thak Man Eater with my back to the window in the TV room on a summer afternoon when, in one of those rare moments of peace, no one in my house seemed to be around. And I remember finishing the tale and staying in my chair, not daring to move, for fear of attracting the tiger's attention that I knew was lurking somewhere behind my right shoulder, waiting for me to reveal myself with the slightest movement. 

Since then, Corbett's tigers have stalked me in dreams, waking me up convinced that they were hiding beneath my bed, and they have followed me on solitary walks in the hills near Kasauli, defeating all sensible responses - there are barely any tigers or leopards left in India; they are not natural man-eaters; if there was one in the vicinity, it would be known, especially if it were a man-eater - there's always a first time, argues the imagination.

And so, my walks are accompanied by a pounding heart, a watchful eye and an ear straining to recognise the sounds of the forest and be alert to the warnings provided by its folk when a predator is on the prowl. My feeble attempts at self-preservation may be laughable but I do observe more of the forest and forest-life now. 

"Laughing a tiger's laugh..."

Corbett, an old favourite, shall probably recur time and again here, but to begin, I give you an extract from Jungle Lore that always makes me grin - 

"The seven pea fowl after crossing the glade had evidently taken to their legs for Magog had gone at least a hundred yards into the dense scrub and tree jungle before I heard a flutter of wings and the squark of a pea fowl, followed immediately afterwards by a frightened yelp from Magog and the angry roar of a tiger. The pea fowl had evidently led Magog on to a sleeping a tiger, and birds, dog, and tiger, were each expressing their surprise, fear and resentment, in their own particular way. Magog after his first yelp of fear was barking furiously and running and the tiger was emitting roar upon roar and chasing him, and both were coming towards me. In the general confusion a peacock - giving its alarm call - came sailing through the trees and alighted on a branch just above my head, but for the time being I had lost all interest in birds and my one and only desire was to go somewhere, far away, where there were no tigers. Magog had four legs to carry him over the ground whereas I only had two, so without any feeling of shame - for deserting a faithful companion - I picked up my feet and ran as I had never run before. Magog soon overtook me and the roaring behind us ceased. 

I can picture the tiger now, though I could not do so at the time, sitting down on his haunches on reaching the open glade and laughing a tiger's laugh, at the sight of a big dog and a small boy running for what they thought was dear life, while all that he was doing was to shoo away a dog that had disturbed his slumbers."