AN ADVENTURE IN THE HIGH HILLS

AN ADVENTURE IN THE HIGH HILLS

It’s now two years since we have come to stay in this small town ship at the foothills of Himalayas. In spite of the two yrs I still feel awe of the towering mountains all around. Standing at any corner of the town as I allow my gaze to wander around, I feel men and their flat roofed houses are more toys as the mountains stoop around casting their long shadows over the undulating landscape of our town.

Like men each mountain seem to have different character. Some are flat and smooth while some are steep and rugged. Some slithering and curvaceous, the tall ones used to be capped with little white pecks as winter advances.

Studying for my school finals, the small shaded spot adjacent to the staircase had become my favorite spot to sit pour over the heavy academic books for the various exams held time to time. My gaze then often used to wander towards the mountains. As the evening sun dips behinds the mountain carrying with it an array of crimson clouds and the flock of birds with unbroken regularity wind their ways in to the evening sky and beyond, the green wooded mountain suddenly seem to loose their luster and verdant greenery, slowly becoming dark hooded projection as the sun withdraws its luster from the scene.

Day after day as I sat their observing the mountains they so firmly etched in to my psyche that when I met Romesh Das, the newly enrolled boy in our class and came to know he too shared my obsession for mountains, I became very happy and soon we became thick friends. Romesh and I often spent our evenings together in the mini terrace of our house in the pretext of combined studies, however we invariably ended up observing mountains, admiring its contours, wondering what lay behind.

One day Romesh suggested, “How about climbing these mountains? Won’t it be a great adventure?”

“ Why not?”

I was surprised why the idea did not strike me before. Our parents were apprehensive but seeing our enthusiasm they agreed. So off we went every weekend with our packsack filled with food and some basic tools like a good sharp pocketknife, rope, hammer, some nails and a mini first aid kit in case of emergency.

We started early morning, by 5.30 a.m., took a local bus to the nearest trek route of the chosen mountain, which used to take us nearly an hour and then straight away start climbing the mountain along the narrow trails, frequented perhaps for a millennium by men and animals.

The trails used to lead us to unexpected places; small hamlets with neatly cut patches of cultivation, sometime thickly wooded enclaves, gurgling rivulets with fresh cool water or just bare wilderness.

We used to walk for three hours at stretch, then stop for the packed lunch at 11 ‘o’ clock and retrace our path all along so that we will be back at the bus stop by 3.00 or 3.30 p.m. reaching back home before dark.

Romesh and I used to immensely enjoy these trips and look forward to the weekends eagerly.

Many of our friends hooked on to TV and Video used to wonder what odd quirks we were to go for such strange outings In turn we felt sorry for them to miss such clean-strange wholesome entertainments laid by nature just at their doorstep and used to feel all of them had their blinkers on not able to see what fun such outings are.

On that day when the gruesome incident took place, we had as usual left the house at 7 ‘o’ clock, we were eager to follow a new trail. We had spotted a small brook on the east face of the mountain. We decided to follow it upstream and find its source. We would have trekked steadily for one hour when Romesh cried with excitement. He had spotted the pugmarks of a leopard. In the wet mud close to the stream the pugmarks were clear and looked fresh.

We decided to follow the trail. On looking back now the entire incident smirks of bravado of two youngsters who had not encountered danger so far. We left the stream path with great excitement and started tracing the pugmarks, which were clearly visible.

We must have walked 200 yards with our eyes glued to the pugmarks that I must admit we failed to perceive what lay ahead. The pugmarks were leading to a thick over growth of long wild grass and it seemed to vanish from this point.

As we looked up we came face to face with a leopard sitting crouched behind the long stranded grass, presumably licking a wound. In a flash the leopard pounced on Romesh and pinned him down. As Romesh lay struck with fear from somewhere I seem to get an indomitable strength.

I took the sharp folding knife from my pocket and fell over the leopard driving it down hard on its back. The leopard left Romesh and turned back to face me.

I took out the pen knife did another leap towards its throat. The leopard pounced on me, its shiny eyes full of hate trying to maul me tearing my thick leather coat. However with its badly injured state its mobility was greatly impaired.

Romesh in the meanwhile had got up and pulled me with a jerk, extricating me from the clutches of the wounded leopard. Before the leopard could spring another attack we both made a run down hill towards the solitary house standing at the head of the stream. As we turned back we saw the leopard lay in a wounded heap unable to move.

Panting and heaving with fear writ large on the faces we knocked the house of the villager.

As the villager opened the door all we could utter as ‘Bag, Bag’

With one look at our shocked state, tattered clothes and mauled body, he galvanized in to action.

Cupping his hands he made a shrill call from nowhere half a dozen men came out of the adjoining fields with thick heavy sticks.

They ran towards the direction we pointed out. The leopard was still lying wounded. The villagers in a fury blew blows with their heavy sticks and killed the beast the fearful man-eater that had already made a meal of a baby two villages ahead.

Later as we narrated the sequence to the villagers they made me the hero of the entire drama, for they reasoned if I had not pinned the leopard to the ground and driven the knife in time, Romesh my friend would have been the prey to the much feared man eater.

The News spread. The next day my photo with Romesh was on the local paper. Over night I became a celebrity. People started talking about my gallantry act, the great act of bravery.

My name was nominated for the republic day award. But as, much more than the awards and accolades what I prized most was getting back my dear friend Romesh and continuing our exploration of mountains, from now onwards with a more cautious note.