Читать книгу Soo Thah: A Tale of the Making of the Karen Nation - Alonzo Bunker - Страница 9

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THE rice harvest was the great hope of the Karens. The interest of the whole year's work centred in its ingathering. If the crop failed, the year would be one of great hardship, if not of famine. The utmost care therefore was bestowed on this product from the time of sowing until the joyful reaping. Not only must the weeds be repeatedly cut, for they grow in that tropical climate with a vigour unknown in a temperate zone, but close watch must be kept night and day to guard the growing crop from hostile incursions.

Soo Thah was now obliged to take his turn with the rest of the family in this work. His father had made small huts mounted on high poles in different parts of the field, from which long bark strings ran like telegraph wires in all directions. These strings were so tied to pieces of split bamboo, that when they were pulled a loud clapping noise was made, which frightened away birds and beasts.

Wild hogs were specially troublesome and destructive. They came in large herds during the night, and if not at once frightened did much damage in a few minutes. Therefore Soo Thah sat many a night alone, or with a companion in one of the watch towers, pulling the bark strings, and fighting mosquitoes, while fear of nats and wild beasts made the hours drag slowly.

At such times, while gazing into the darkness, or up to the twinkling stars, he did much serious thinking. This all came out in his after life, when he used to relate the night-thoughts of those early days. "Are there really so many evil spirits around us, as the elders say? Do they truly hate men? And are they fond of men's Kala, ever seeking to seize and devour it? If not, why do men sicken? Why do they grow weary? Why do wild beasts kill them? Is there a great Nat, or Spirit named Yuah, of whom the elders tell us? Where does he live? Where is his country? Will he never love men again and come back to take care of them? Where do people go when they die? What is the Kala anyway? How can bad men, when they die, become man-eating tigers, as all the elders declare?" Then lifting his eyes heavenward and seeing the myriad stars, flashing like gems, he would continue his musings: "The stars! what are they? Are they really holes in the earth's cover to let the glory of Yuah's country shine through to men? Shall I die if I begin to count them, and stop before I have finished the count?" The sun also and moon were very strange to Soo Thah; and he could make nothing of all the thousands of mysteries with which he was surrounded, for there was as yet no voice to answer his eager questions. Yet he kept on thinking and questioning.

When the harvest was over, and the rice, millet, chillie peppers, pumpkins and other produce were all gathered into bins, Soo Thah had time to join his companions in ranging the great forest in search of game and adventure. A stock of dried meat must be laid in for the season when they would be engaged again in clearing their new fields for another crop of rice. And he soon learned how to make and set all sorts of traps and snares for the different kinds of birds and beasts in the jungle, and also for fish found in the clear mountain streams.

His father had prepared several pitfalls on narrow mountain ridges in paths made by deer and other animals. These were deep and covered with leaves and twigs so that the surface looked like the surrounding ground. Thus the wild beasts would not discover the trap till they had fallen into it.

When tigers and other wild game were about killing the pigs, goats and fowl, he knew how to rig a spring-pole which, when set off by a wild beast, would send a sharp bamboo spear into him. His father had taught him how high from the ground the spear must be placed to pierce the tiger's heart, by measuring his footprints. Or, if not successful with the spear-trap, there was the big log-trap baited with a live goat. But Soo Thah said he did not like that way of trapping tigers, for he could not help pitying the poor goat.

One of the most vivid memories of his childhood, he used to say, was that of the sudden confusion and alarm arising from all the people in the village crying out and violently beating the floors of their houses, when a tiger made a night visit to their village for plunder. One incident in particular had filled his heart with hatred for this king of the jungles. When tigers become old and have broken teeth and claws, so that they can no longer pull down their victims, they sometimes lose their natural fear of man, and become "man-eaters." Soo Thah well remembered how, one night, one of these tigers had seized an old man in their village, a special friend of the children. Long afterwards he could vividly recall the last cry of the old man, as the savage beast bore him away into the jungle. All the village raised a great noise, as usual, to frighten the beast, in which they succeeded; but the poor old man was so badly injured that he died.

Among other beasts met in their hunting expeditions were bears, both black and brown. If come upon suddenly, they were specially dangerous; and they seemed to have a spite against the human face, always seeking to mangle it in a close attack. Soo Thah was as much afraid of these beasts as were his people, but he showed such daring in battling them, that his friends became very proud of him and predicted he would become as great a hunter as his grandfather, who had once slain a wild elephant. One of his adventures became the talk not only of his own village, but of others also. This is the story as told by his companion:

"One of our neighbours had a daughter named Paw Wah (White Flower), who was sent with food to a party in the jungle. She lost her way and wandered about a part of two days and a whole night. Among others, Soo Thah and I went in search of this poor girl. After travelling some time and seeing no signs of her, we came to a deep ravine full of rattans, small palms and other bushes. Suddenly, with a frightful growl, a large black bear rushed out of the thicket and up the opposite side. He looked as large as an elephant, to my surprised vision. Firing at him I inflicted a wound. He suddenly turned and charged straight for us. In this dilemma I know not how Soo Thah felt but I had a strong impulse in my heels to run somewhere. He however stood his ground and began firing at the advancing brute. How he growled and howled! It was frightful. He made almost as much noise as a mad elephant. A bullet hit him, for he stopped in the dense thicket and tangle of palms which he had left at first, and there he remained growling with an occasional howl. The elders were always warning us of the danger of approaching a wounded bear or tiger. I dared not venture into the thicket. However, when I saw Soo Thah, who was several years younger than myself, standing his ground so bravely, I plucked up courage, for I felt ashamed of my fears. I wanted that bear, but saw not how we were to get him. So I said to Soo Thah, 'What shall we do? How shall we get our game?'

"'Why, shoot him,' he replied.

"'But we can't see him.'

"'We will go till we can see him,' he said.

"'What, do you dare go near that raging beast?'

"'But we can't leave him now. We must go into the brush and shoot him.'

"Finding he could not be dissuaded, I joined him, for I was ashamed to appear afraid. We then carefully loaded our guns, took our large knives in our hands, and began cutting a path through the tangle, where occasional growls showed the bear to be, Soo Thah leading the way. Suddenly there was a rush and a roar, and the sound of Soo Thah's gun at almost the same moment. His bullet was true to its mark, penetrating the head of the beast, and with a final growl he fell dead. What a monster! We could hardly lift one of his legs. We called help, and it took six strong men to carry him to the village, where there was great rejoicing." Thus did Soo Thah's companion relate the story of his killing his first bear.

Every one must recognize his bravery in this deed. Would that he had been as brave in all things as in his hunting expeditions, but he was not. Reared amidst heathen superstitions, he was cowardly in respect to the unseen powers, such as imaginary nats and ghosts. It was a very important matter that would induce him to leave the house after dark without a torch and a companion to keep him company. In fact no one in the village would take such risks as that.

Before we close this, however, the reader will be glad to know that Paw Wah, after wandering about all night in the forest, was found the next day, brought back to her home in safety, and not much the worse for her adventure.