Whilderness Poems
The Tiger (Story)
by Slava P, aka Maximus Decimus Meridius
Chapter 1
He was chewing on leftovers from the kill his father had made last night in the darkest recess of India. He was about eleven month old now. He noticed these weird creatures walking on their twos. He had never seen such creatures. This group of humans was led by someone named Jack, a man from the civilized world of England, Great Britain. Jack was a man looking for tigers for a circus. He had brought together a group of fearless men who had nothing to lose and looked optimistically at the prospect of a quick buck from the profits of acquiring a rare Bengali tigers. It all started when Jack assembled a group of men from the dregs of society, men who had not succeeded in conventional endeavors. He had this idea that he could make some money by getting some tigers to sell for profit. Amidst sips of whisky, he outlined his plan to this sad group of men, war weary members, disillusioned men who had taken to drinking to drown the reality of their failed lives. At the time, England had a network of entry into India and the world of smuggling based on India’s standing as a colony. He knew the right people who easily get him entry into acquiring these tigers, people with experience smuggling wild animals for circuses and other pleasures.
As part of the planning, they started out with the hiring of a local guide to inform them of the best route to get to the tigers. They hired a local who knew English and was very familiar with the area, as he had grown up there and spent all of his life in the same place called Sundarban. This guide, Bimal Mondal was about five foot eight, had little dark circles under his eyes, and was about thirty six years of age with dark skin that glowed almost like bronze, a square jaw with visible cheek bones, wide eyebrows making a unibrow by meeting at the top center of his broken nose, and brown hazelnut eyes. He was skinny and muscular, and looked like a spring that if you squish it together would bounce back with the force of a hopping frog.
Now Jack, on the opposite spectrum, was your typical British looking gentlemen. Years and generations of acts of bravery that ran through his lineage, whether through fighting in wars, taking on risky expeditions or even drunkenly fistfights to make money defined his character. He was honorably discharged from the army as a major, but it was a deal he couldn’t pass up on. If he left he would get everything the army could offer and if not, he would end up in circumstances he couldn’t handle on his own. And here he was, a big muscular man standing at the river bank deep in mangrove forest area with his friends. He thought back to a time not far back, just ten years ago in 1940. He had lost his family and some of his friends whom he believed were friends forever.
“Bimal, do you think we will be there by sunset?” Jack asked.
“I am sure Sir we can make it if you just let me guide you, please don’t step on my tail, is that the right expression?” Bimal replied while securing his, what he called, dingi nouko (long narrow boat) to the tree.
“Yes Bimal” Jack said with disappointment. He used to give orders and not to be given.
......
The Deer (Story)
by Slava P, aka Maximus Decimus Meridius
Chapter 1
It was Indian summer in the Peruvian highlands in late October when the weather is dry and rain is scarce. Warm in the afternoons and quite cold (near freezing) nights was the normal pattern in the area. The rainy season was coming and she was lying in the grass with her two twins whom she had given birth to a week ago after carrying them for about one hundred ninety five days or six and a half months. They were quietly eating, sucking on her nipples, and often changing from one to another blindly. She looked at them again; they were brown with white spots, white ears on the inside, white bellies, skinny feet, eyes black like charcoal, the same as their noses. They were simply beautiful she thought and they were hers. She had once considered aborting because she thought the environment wouldn’t support her due to the inclement weather and low food source at the time she was carrying. But everything turned out to be perfect. When she was carrying them, she discovered that she could eat almost anything instead of losing them. She found sustenance in all types of plants, including shoots, leaves, cacti, and grasses. She also ate acorns, as well as mushrooms and poison ivy. She had even reached a point that she was desperate enough not pass up on nesting songbirds, field mice, and birds trapped in intricate misty nets spun by two legged creatures. It was disgusting, but she found that her mother instinct told her differently.
She looked in the distance and perked her ears watching her herd eating grass. Her little fawns were scared, shivering from time to time, and for another three weeks would be timidly hiding, just as she had done when she was little.
~ 2 ~
He turned his head upwards and looked at his mom. Are we in danger, he was thinking, looking straight into her eyes, do we have to run again? She looked around again, seeing no white tails in the distance. It meant they were safe for now. He stood up shaking a little on his feet, walked around at first to be familiar with the ground and then he ran… He was kicking air with his back feet standing on his front sometimes snatching grass with his mouth. His sister caught up to him later when he was all involved with running and jumping around. They ran together for a while looking at each other trying to compete. He would lose his footing sometimes, his back feet awkwardly becoming tangled. He stopped, not noticing a pair of prowling eyes in the distance looking at him and his sister.
Mother made a sound and he and his sister were beside her in a split second. Something wasn’t right and they had to move. They walked at first, becoming more comfortable with their gaits, and then they trotted. He and his sister were in front of their mother as the whole herd of deer moved fast in unison. They sensed, and they moved, that was their instinct. After a while they stopped by the waterfall. The noise by the river was unbearable to their young ears, sounding destructive and thunderous as the agitated water rushed against rocks and logs, but they had to drink. She jumped on one of the boulders slightly sticking out from water to get comfortable with the area and scope the surroundings. A few of her herd mates were within around her, jumping from boulder to boulder. The twins were standing on the ground by the river, not moving as they watched their mother. She jumped to another boulder, stopping for a moment. She turned around and looked at her fawns standing in a distance and jumped towards them aiming for the next rock in front of her.
......
The Tiger (Story)
by Slava P, aka Maximus Decimus Meridius
Chapter 1
He was chewing on leftovers from the kill his father had made last night in the darkest recess of India. He was about eleven month old now. He noticed these weird creatures walking on their twos. He had never seen such creatures. This group of humans was led by someone named Jack, a man from the civilized world of England, Great Britain. Jack was a man looking for tigers for a circus. He had brought together a group of fearless men who had nothing to lose and looked optimistically at the prospect of a quick buck from the profits of acquiring a rare Bengali tigers. It all started when Jack assembled a group of men from the dregs of society, men who had not succeeded in conventional endeavors. He had this idea that he could make some money by getting some tigers to sell for profit. Amidst sips of whisky, he outlined his plan to this sad group of men, war weary members, disillusioned men who had taken to drinking to drown the reality of their failed lives. At the time, England had a network of entry into India and the world of smuggling based on India’s standing as a colony. He knew the right people who easily get him entry into acquiring these tigers, people with experience smuggling wild animals for circuses and other pleasures.
As part of the planning, they started out with the hiring of a local guide to inform them of the best route to get to the tigers. They hired a local who knew English and was very familiar with the area, as he had grown up there and spent all of his life in the same place called Sundarban. This guide, Bimal Mondal was about five foot eight, had little dark circles under his eyes, and was about thirty six years of age with dark skin that glowed almost like bronze, a square jaw with visible cheek bones, wide eyebrows making a unibrow by meeting at the top center of his broken nose, and brown hazelnut eyes. He was skinny and muscular, and looked like a spring that if you squish it together would bounce back with the force of a hopping frog.
Now Jack, on the opposite spectrum, was your typical British looking gentlemen. Years and generations of acts of bravery that ran through his lineage, whether through fighting in wars, taking on risky expeditions or even drunkenly fistfights to make money defined his character. He was honorably discharged from the army as a major, but it was a deal he couldn’t pass up on. If he left he would get everything the army could offer and if not, he would end up in circumstances he couldn’t handle on his own. And here he was, a big muscular man standing at the river bank deep in mangrove forest area with his friends. He thought back to a time not far back, just ten years ago in 1940. He had lost his family and some of his friends whom he believed were friends forever.
“Bimal, do you think we will be there by sunset?” Jack asked.
“I am sure Sir we can make it if you just let me guide you, please don’t step on my tail, is that the right expression?” Bimal replied while securing his, what he called, dingi nouko (long narrow boat) to the tree.
“Yes Bimal” Jack said with disappointment. He used to give orders and not to be given.
......
The Deer (Story)
by Slava P, aka Maximus Decimus Meridius
Chapter 1
It was Indian summer in the Peruvian highlands in late October when the weather is dry and rain is scarce. Warm in the afternoons and quite cold (near freezing) nights was the normal pattern in the area. The rainy season was coming and she was lying in the grass with her two twins whom she had given birth to a week ago after carrying them for about one hundred ninety five days or six and a half months. They were quietly eating, sucking on her nipples, and often changing from one to another blindly. She looked at them again; they were brown with white spots, white ears on the inside, white bellies, skinny feet, eyes black like charcoal, the same as their noses. They were simply beautiful she thought and they were hers. She had once considered aborting because she thought the environment wouldn’t support her due to the inclement weather and low food source at the time she was carrying. But everything turned out to be perfect. When she was carrying them, she discovered that she could eat almost anything instead of losing them. She found sustenance in all types of plants, including shoots, leaves, cacti, and grasses. She also ate acorns, as well as mushrooms and poison ivy. She had even reached a point that she was desperate enough not pass up on nesting songbirds, field mice, and birds trapped in intricate misty nets spun by two legged creatures. It was disgusting, but she found that her mother instinct told her differently.
She looked in the distance and perked her ears watching her herd eating grass. Her little fawns were scared, shivering from time to time, and for another three weeks would be timidly hiding, just as she had done when she was little.
~ 2 ~
He turned his head upwards and looked at his mom. Are we in danger, he was thinking, looking straight into her eyes, do we have to run again? She looked around again, seeing no white tails in the distance. It meant they were safe for now. He stood up shaking a little on his feet, walked around at first to be familiar with the ground and then he ran… He was kicking air with his back feet standing on his front sometimes snatching grass with his mouth. His sister caught up to him later when he was all involved with running and jumping around. They ran together for a while looking at each other trying to compete. He would lose his footing sometimes, his back feet awkwardly becoming tangled. He stopped, not noticing a pair of prowling eyes in the distance looking at him and his sister.
Mother made a sound and he and his sister were beside her in a split second. Something wasn’t right and they had to move. They walked at first, becoming more comfortable with their gaits, and then they trotted. He and his sister were in front of their mother as the whole herd of deer moved fast in unison. They sensed, and they moved, that was their instinct. After a while they stopped by the waterfall. The noise by the river was unbearable to their young ears, sounding destructive and thunderous as the agitated water rushed against rocks and logs, but they had to drink. She jumped on one of the boulders slightly sticking out from water to get comfortable with the area and scope the surroundings. A few of her herd mates were within around her, jumping from boulder to boulder. The twins were standing on the ground by the river, not moving as they watched their mother. She jumped to another boulder, stopping for a moment. She turned around and looked at her fawns standing in a distance and jumped towards them aiming for the next rock in front of her.
......
