Hussein. Patrick O’Brian
Читать онлайн книгу.
Mustapha, Hussein’s uncle, was a quiet, dreamy man, and although he was by birth and breeding a mahout, he was also a considerable scholar in the old Islamic tradition. He knew the greater part of the Q’ran by heart, and he had even begun a commentary on Al Beidâwi, the great commentator of the Q’ran. One of the first things he did when Hussein was convalescent was to teach him to read. His own sons — he had three — had reverted to type, and they were simple mahouts, blood and bone, so that he had long ceased trying to hammer any learning into their thick heads. But Hussein was more quick, and he wished to please Mustapha.
Mustapha had all the scholar’s enthusiasm for imparting his knowledge, and after a few months Hussein could struggle through most of the Q’ran. Among those people it was no little distinction to be able to read, for not two in a hundred of the common people could understand the written word. Mustapha’s three sons were all considerably older than Hussein, and they thought him too young to quarrel with at all seriously, so they got on very well together.
Zeinab was particularly good to Hussein, for she was a good-natured motherly woman, and she felt the need of someone to look after now that her own children were almost grown up.
The elephants were soon moved away from Agra, and after a little time they were stationed at Amritsar. In this town Hussein began to lead a new life. To begin with, the people spoke a different tongue, for they were mostly Sikhs, speaking Punjabi. Hussein could generally make himself understood in Urdu, which is spoken all over the land, but very quickly he learnt Punjabi so well that he thought in it. His grief, which had died down to a dull ache, seemed to leave him with all these new things coming into his life, and although it returned sometimes when he was unhappy or alone, yet as time went on it faded out of his conscious mind.
They all lived in a hut in the elephant lines, which consisted of a long row of flat-roofed buildings with little gardens. There was a broad maiden that sloped down to the river, which was dammed in order to make a pool for the elephants. The town was some little distance from the elephant lines. In the evening the mahouts used to give their elephants over to their sons, and they were taken down to the pool. Hussein often used to take his uncle’s elephant, who was called Jehangir Bahadur.
When they came to the pool the elephants would walk slowly in and squirt themselves all over with the cool water. They all had different habits, and it was Jehangir’s custom to go out into the deepest part, where he could go right under, only leaving his trunk out to breathe. Then he would come out to the shallow part where Hussein was; he would suck up a trunkful of water, and squirt it all over himself, while Hussein scrubbed him with a coir brush. When they were back on the bank, Hussein would search Jehangir’s broad feet for thorns, and also his ears, which were rather tender, becoming inflamed very easily.
The water at the dam made a perfect swimming pool, as no crocodiles ever came there for fear of the elephants.
In the garden outside Mustapha’s house there was an old piece of wall that stood by itself; for no particular reason it had never been pulled down, so Mustapha made a sloping bed against it for melons. Hussein was very fond of melons, and he had made these his special care, for being rather far-sighted he reasoned that the more they were looked after as plants, the better they would be as melons.
He was squatting idly on the top of the wall when the heat of the day had passed, gazing at the ripening melons. In the elephant lines he heard a tumult, but he paid little attention, for the mahouts often quarrelled, making a great noise without ever coming to blows; therefore, thought Hussein, it was not worth while running to see two men shouting at one another, with other people joining in to make more noise. Actually the hubbub was caused by Jehangir, who had gone mûsth, and had knocked another elephant over. It was a mild attack of that form of madness that is peculiar to elephants: it is often caused by an elephant being given too much bamboo in its fodder, for this makes its blood so hot that a very little will upset it and drive it mûsth.
All the mahouts were trying to separate the elephants but they could do nothing. As the noise increased Hussein climbed on to the flat roof of the hut to see what it was all about; he hoped that it would be Imam Din pulling Daoud Shah’s beard, as he had often threatened to do. The mahouts got out two of the biggest elephants to force Jehangir away.
Hussein was in two minds about going to find out what it was all about: the sun was still too hot for it to be worth while running to hear two of the mahouts’ wives abusing one another, but, of course, it might with luck be Imam Din carrying out his threat. From the roof he could not see anything but a confused crowd, because of the dust and the heat-haze.
Before the big elephants had been brought on the scene, Jehangir’s mood had changed. He rammed his opponent once more with all his force, and then went away to look for something to destroy, for his temper made him feel like destroying things.
No one dared to get in front of him, so he trotted off down the lines towards the larger huts where the married mahouts lived. His one desire, that was by now an obsession, was to crush something: his head was aching splittingly, and his madness had driven all the goodness out of him for the time. He came quickly down the dusty road, and Hussein, on the roof, recognised him at once by the glint of the silver bands round his tusks, which were cut short. He had no idea that Jehangir was mûsth; indeed, he had never seen an elephant in that state, and he only knew of it by hearsay. He called out to the elephant, but he was rather surprised when Jehangir came charging at full speed towards the mud house; Hussein thought that he was only playing, as he had often done before. But Jehangir did not pull up; he blundered right on into the brick wall, smashing it down with his forehead, and quite ruining the melons.
Hussein gasped, and then shouted, ‘Oh, soor-kabutcha kasoorneen, what have you done?’
The elephant stood still over the wreckage of the bed; he had knocked his head very hard against the wall, and that had cleared it a little. If he had been left alone the madness would have clouded his brain again, but Hussein came scrambling off the roof, catching a heavy bowl which was there to catch rain, and he leapt from the top of the verandah on to Jehangir’s neck, crying, ‘Oh, son of a great pig, what have you done to my fine melons?’ He beat the bowl furiously on Jehangir’s head, so that it broke.
It did not hurt the elephant particularly, but it brought him to his senses. Suddenly he saw what he had done: it was as though he had awoken from a bad dream. He was horribly afraid that he might have injured Hussein, for he was very fond of the boy. But Hussein kept banging at his head with what remained of the pot, so he saw that there was no harm done.
‘Go straight back to your picket, you clumsy, toad-like oont; I shall never speak to you again. The melons were almost ripe, and now they are quite ruined. Worthless earth-worm that you are,’ shouted Hussein very angrily. By this time a pursuing crowd of mahouts with five huge tuskers and chains had come up, and as soon as they were within ear-shot, a man shouted, ‘Have a care, have a care, he is mûsth.’
Hussein heard this, but he saw that the fit had passed. Very quickly the two biggest elephants came up on either side of Jehangir to pin him, so that a rope could be passed about one of his legs; but Hussein saw his opportunity, and cried, ‘Leave us alone, we shall not hurt you.’
Everyone gaped, as Hussein had hoped they would, and Mustapha said, ‘But what is this? Jehangir has gone mûsth.’
‘It is a small matter, I have dealt with it. He was only a little troubled with the heat, so he came to see me. I shall take him to the pool.’ Hussein carried it off perfectly, and they went down to the water, where Jehangir squirted water all over himself, and then plastered his head with cool grey mud.
But the next day Jehangir was punished in the only way that an elephant can be. He was chained firmly to a tree, and each of the other elephants was given a good length of chain. They all filed past him, and each gave him a great blow with the chain: they went round three times. Jehangir was bitterly ashamed of himself, and he trumpeted in the night, but Hussein came and comforted him until the morning.
Hussein gained a great deal of credit, and it was prophesied that he would become a famous mahout when he grew older. The Englishman in charge of the mahouts sent him twenty