The ‘shikar’ and a shocker

PC Sharma

HUNTING is the last sport I could ever think of even while serving in Assam where it was quite common — at least in the 60s, before strict laws were made to preserve and protect wildlife.

In the well preserved and extensive forest cover of Assam, a huge variety of wildlife thrived, ranging from elephants, tigers, rhinos, deer, exquisite birds, etc. Officers recruited in the British days had indulged in this sport extravagantly.  The subdivision where I was posted had an old hand serving as an SDO. He had a repertoire of stories of shikar expeditions; each a thriller. The hazards involved preventing yourself from being mauled by some ferocious denizen of the forest, like a rogue elephant or a tiger. Besides, there was ubiquitous menace of mosquitoes and leeches which hunted at you viciously and made you bleed. 

Listening to the stories of shikar from my SDO friend aroused in me an urge to watch this sport, just once. An expedition was planned on a cold wintry night. A party was dispatched in advance to select an elephant trained for shikar and fix a hauda for a safe and comfortable perch for two persons.

We alighted from our jeep and mounted the elephant with the help of the mahaut and started our journey.  The forest was thick and dark, its wildness broken only by countless crickets chirping almost incessantly.  Wading through it on a narrow path, and also being mindful of not alerting the animals was a prerequisite for making the catch. All the success in this venture depended on the skill of the mahaut. This he did with complete confidence.

I held a powerful torch in my hand and the mahaut carried one in his and a spear in the other to steer his path and control the elephant as well.

We reached a small clearing in the middle of the forest and noticed a shape resembling that of an animal.  Bracing himself firmly and readying his gun, my friend took his aim and shot. The stillness of the forest was shattered and cries of “porile porile” (fallen fallen) were heard.  These were the cries from the accompanying staff, who we thought, were announcing that the aim was successful and the shikar had fallen. The mahaut made the elephant come down on its fours. The SDO alighted to survey the area but he could hardly do so as we heard the trumpet of a female elephant coming from the opposite direction. He sensed the danger and got up in panic, leaving the SDO on the ground. The mahaut declared that it was a rogue elephant and advised us to leave the place immediately.  Fear gripped us and forgetting to retrieve the shikar, all torches and attention was focused on ‘retrieving’ the hunter and make him mount the elephant which refused to sit. Immediately, a rope was thrown down for our friend to grab it and climb up.  This, we did quite successfully and  made our way out of the forest, all the time looking behind to see whether we were being chased. The SDO, completely shaken, but holding his gun, forgot all about what he had shot; or even if his aim was a hit or a miss.