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A magnificent specimen had been lent to me by the Commissariat Department at Jubbulpur; this was a high caste bull elephant named Bisgaum that was well known as bad-tempered, but was supposed to be courageous.
This was a grand scene, and I began to think there was some real pluck in Bisgaum after all, although there was a total want of discipline; but just as I felt inclined to applaud, the victorious elephant was seized with a sudden panic, and turning tail, he rushed along the bottom of the watercourse at the rate of 20 miles an hour, and disappeared in the thorny jungle below at a desperate pace that threatened immediate destruction to his staunch mahout.
The rocks were a perfectly flat red sandstone, which in many places resembled artificial pavement; this was throughout the district a peculiar geological feature, the surface of the stone being covered with ripple-marks, and upon this easy path Bisgaum now approached the body of the tiger, which lay apparently dead exactly in his front.
Suddenly the elephant halted when about 15 yards from the object, which had never moved. I have seen wild savages frenzied by the exciting war-dance, but I never witnessed such an instance of hysterical fury as that exhibited by Bisgaum.
At length, after about half a mile passed in anxiety, we discovered Bisgaum and his mahout both safe upon an open plain; the latter torn and bleeding from countless scratches while rushing through the thorny jungle. On the following day the elephant's leg was much swollen, although the wounds appeared to be very slight.
In a very short experience we discovered the necessity of giving Bisgaum a wide berth, as he would fling out his trunk with extreme quickness to strike a person within his reach, and he would kick out sharply with his hind leg whenever a native ventured to approach his rear.
I returned Bisgaum to the Commissariat stables at Jubbulpur directly that he could march, as he was too uncontrollable for sporting purposes. Had any person been upon his back during his stampede he would have been swept off by the branches and killed; the mahout, sitting low upon his neck, could accommodate his body to avoid the boughs.
Bisgaum was in a state of wild excitement, and Kerim Bux explained that it was impossible to shoot from his back, as he could not be kept quiet. Where was the tiger? That was the question. "Close to us, Sahib!" was the reply; but on foot we could see nothing, owing to high withered grass and bush.
The big tusker Bisgaum arrived, and giving my Paradox gun to my trustworthy shikari Kerim Bux, he mounted the pad of that excitable beast to carry out my orders, "to follow the blood until he should find the tiger, after which he was to return to us."
I clambered upon the back of the refractory Bisgaum, momentarily expecting him to bolt away like a locomotive engine, and from that elevated position I was supposed to see the tiger, which was lying in the bottom of the ravine about 100 yards distant.
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