THE ARTIST'S PORTFOLIO. No. I. THE PICTURE OF SAPPH O. BY THE HON. MRS. NORTON. THOU! whose impassion'd face Theme of the Sculptor's art and Poet's story- Yet, was it History's truth, Of endless grief, and Love forsaken pining? The old traditions show With Fame's cold light around thee vainly shining? Didst thou indeed sit there In languid lone despair Thy harp neglected by thee idly lying Thy soft and earnest gaze In the far west, where summer-day was dying While with low rustling wings, The murmuring breeze faint melody was making, As though it wooed thy hand To strike with new command, Or mourn'd with thee because thy heart was breaking? Didst thou, as day by day Roll'd heavily away, And left thee anxious, nerveless, and dejected, Wandering thro' bowers beloved Roving where he had roved Yearn for his presence, as for one expected? Didst thou, with fond wild eyes Fix'd on the starry skies, Wait feverishly for each new day to waken- Might witness his return, Unwilling to believe thyself forsaken ? And when conviction came, Didst thou-oh! saddest of earth's grieving daughters- Dash, with a desperate leap, And hide thyself within the whelming waters ? Yea, in their hollow breast Thy heart at length found rest! The ever-moving waves above thee closing- Swept the blue waters by, Disturb'd thee not !-thou wert in peace reposing! Such is the tale they tell! Vain all the praise thy song could still inspire- The borrowed love-notes of thy echoing lyre. FAME, to thy breaking heart In vain thy brow the laurel wreath was wearing; Could bow thy bright head down Thou wert a WOMAN, and wert left despairing! A TIGER HUNT ON THE NEILGHERRY HILLS.* BY AN OLD FOREST RANGER. WE left our Neilgherry friends asleep, and Master Charles engaged in such very pleasant dreams that it appears almost cruel to disturb him. But day-light begins to dapple the eastern sky, the jungle-cocks are crowing, and old Ishmail, who has been kept awake all night by the pain of his wounded shoulder, is so clamorous for revenge, that, for peace sake, we must rouse them to prosecute our feud with the tiger. "Sound the réveille, then, you tiresome old pagan, and let's to it with a will." But whilst our worthy friend Lorimer is rubbing his eyes, and damning the bugle, as he no doubt will do most heartily, we may as well mention the arrangements which he and Mansfield had made the night before, whilst Charles was so well employed in flirting with his pretty cousin. Of course the first thing to be done was to attack the tiger. But as they expected to make short work of him, and as many of the hounds, which were wounded, would not be ready for work for some days, it was settled that, as soon as the tiger was disposed of, Mansfield and Charles should mount their horses, and ride off to a famous spot in the great jungle, about twenty miles from the foot of the hills, where bison, deer, and wild elephants abounded; and where they might amuse themselves for a few days till Ishmail and his dogs were sufficiently recovered to take the field again. Agreeably to this arrangement, tents and camp-equipage had been sent on, during the night, to be ready for their reception; and Charles, although he sighed at the idea of parting from his beloved Kate for three, perhaps four long days, looked forward with no small degree of interest to the prospect of opening his first campaign in the forest, under the auspices of so famous a sportsman as Mansfield. "What the devil brings you here!" exclaimed old Lorimer, as Ishmail, armed to the teeth, advanced to hold the stirrup whilst he mounted his horse; "I thought Dr. Macphee had ordered you to keep your bed." "He did so, sahib; but I could not rest. There is blood between that tiger and me, and my wounds will not heal till I have been revenged on him. With the permission of your highness, I must have a hand in his death." * Continued from p. 52, No. cxcvii. Well, well, so be it, you blood-thirsty old savage, and much good may it do you. But is all prepared-have plenty of fireworks been sent to the ground-and has the ravine been watched during the night?" "The slaves of your highness never sleep, sahib. Our best scouts have been on the watch ever since sunset yesterday; a mouse could not pass them unobserved; and I myself have seen that there are plenty of fireworks prepared. By the holy Prophet, it shall not be for want of fire if he beats us this time." "Good!-Then mount and follow us." The sun was just peeping over the hill-tops as our party came in sight of the ravine, where they had left the tiger the evening before. Under the shelter of a large tree, a group of natives, who had been relieved from their cheerless watch, sat enveloped in their dark cumbleys, couching round the embers of a wood fire, and shivering with cold, as they handed from one to another the sociable kallioon, the never-failing comfort, and almost only luxury of the temperate Hindoo. "These poor fellows have had a cold night's work," remarked old Lorimer, as the natives arose to salute him; "but never mind, we shall soon find employment for them, that will warm their blood, else I'm mistaken. Here, Ayapah, what news of the tiger? Have you marked him in ?" "Ho, sahib ;"* replied Ayapah, bringing the palms of his hands together, and raising them to his forehead, as in the attitude of prayer. "The tiger awaits your highness's pleasure." "Where is he? In this ravine?" "No, sahib. He killed a bullock last night, and is now lying in a small ravine close to the Todah Mund." "All the better; we shall have less trouble in driving him out. Ayapah, show us the way." Ayapah shook the dew from his cumbley, drew his cumberbund more tightly round his loins, thrust a long hunting-knife into his belt, and, grasping his matchlock, led the way down a rocky path which crossed the large ravine, in the direction of the Todah Mund. "Are not these a fine race of men," remarked Mansfield, as they approached the village, pointing to a group of Todahs who were lounging about with the bold careless air of independent mountaineers. "How different is their manner from that of the effeminate Hindoos. You see they are perfectly respectful, and salute us with a gentle inclination of the head; but there is nothing cringing or timid in their mode of doing so. They are too dignified even to evince curiosity, which they consider womanish, and appear to be almost unconscious of our presence. Look at that fine venerable old patriarch leaning against his hut, which appears hardly large enough to contain him; his high and strongly-marked features bear the native stamp of dignity, whilst his finely-formed head, covered with a profusion of short curling hair, and the lower part of his face almost concealed by his enormous whiskers and long flowing beard, might serve as models for a bust of Hercules." "They are indeed a noble race of people," replied Charles," and not only their appearance, but their dress is perfectly classical. That single web of coarse cloth, thrown around them in graceful folds, is exactly the Roman toga." * Yes, Sir. "And here comes a Roman matron," added Mansfield, pointing to a very handsome Todah woman, who approached them, followed by a laughing group of naked children. She was dressed in a web of cloth similar to that worn by the men, but arranged so as to conceal more of the person. Her complexion was not much darker than that of an Italian, and her skin so transparent that the blue veins could be distinctly traced under it. Her long silky hair, the arrangement of which had evidently cost her some little trouble, hung in flowing ringlets over her shoulders, and her only ornaments were some heavy bracelets formed of brass. Her easy, natural, yet graceful carriage was that of a true child of nature; ignorant of crime, and happy in her ignorance; whilst her clear hazel eye, beaming with confidence and innocent simplicity, formed a striking contrast to the dark rolling voluptuous orbs of the more coy beauties of the plain. She displayed none of the haughty reserve so remarkable in the men; but coming up to the party, with a smiling air, began, like a true daughter of Eve, to talk with great energy, laughing and gesticulating all the time, and appearing perfectly satisfied with herself; although it was evident, from the manner of her hearers, that they did not understand a single word she said. "Who would have supposed that this pretty young creature is the wife of ten or a dozen husbands," remarked Mansfield. "The wife of a dozen husbands!" exclaimed Charles in astonishment. "Why, Mansfield, you are laughing at me. A plurality of wives is bad enough, but who ever heard of a plurality of husbands! The thing is impossible." "Both possible and true," replied Mansfield, "all these men, whom you see lounging about, are her husbands. The law of the Todahs allows but one wife to the inhabitants of each village, and, till within the last few years, a still more barbarous custom existed amongst them, that of destroying all the female children, except one, which was reared to supply the place of the mother. I am happy to say, however, that Government have succeeded in putting a stop to this horrible system of infanticide. You may remark that there are now as many female as male children, and as these grow up, the plurality of husbands will no doubt gradually fall into disuse." "Now then, lads," exclaimed old Lorimer, bustling up with his heavy rifle across his shoulder, "let's to work, and see who'll win the tigerskin. Bones of my ancestors, boys, I never saw so pretty a place to kill a tiger, in all my life: but come and see-I think I have arranged it so that he can hardly slip through our fingers." The place, into which the tiger had been marked, was a small ravine at the back of the village; the tangled brushwood, which grew out of the sides, meeting over it, in the form of an arch, so as to exclude the rays of the sun even at mid-day. A few large trees grew along the banks, perched upon which the sportsmen might defy the rage of their formidable enemy; and the ground, for several hundred yards on each side, was open and free from brushwood, so that the tiger could not possibly break cover without exposing himself to a murderous fire. "Now, then, gentlemen, we have no time to lose," cried Lorimer, you must each climb into one of these trees: Ishmail and his gang will scour the ravine with rockets, and the moment the tiger is afoot you will be good enough to give the alarm, that the beaters may fall back to the shelter of the village. As to you, Father Long-legs," addressing the doctor, "I beg that you will keep your eyes open, and try for once to shoot like a gentleman. By the beard of the Prophet, if you allow the tiger to pass you, as you did the deer yesterday, I shall be tempted to send you a messenger from old Kill-devil,' that will make you jump off your perch like an electrified frog." "Hoot toot! Maister Lorimer, but your awfu' raised like this mornin," replied the doctor, grinning like an ogre; "I'm thinkin ye'r turnin daft on our hands a' thegether. To speak o' knockin a dacent man aff the top o' a tree like a hoody-craw!-Shootin an M. D. wi' as little ceremony as if he were a muckle black ape!-O'd, sir, you'r no canny-you'r waur than the tigre himsell!-I'll just speel up, and be out o' your reach, afore the deevle gets the upper hand o' you." So saying, the doctor sprang to the nearest tree, into which he climbed with wonderful agility; and having perched himself, astride, on a com fortable branch, sat dangling his long legs, and grinning defiance like an overgrown baboon. The rest of the party followed his example, and were soon perched on the various trees which skirted the ravine. Old Lorimer alone remained on foot, being too unwieldy to attempt such feats of agility. "What do you intend to do, sir?" inquired Mansfield, hailing him from a tree; 66 you are not going to remain on foot, are you? "Not exactly on foot," replied Lorimer, "I intend to sit on that bush;" pointing to one, on a little rising ground about two hundred yards from the ravine. "I shall look on, and if you all miss the tiger, I shall be ready to wipe your eye-so mind your hits." "You don't mean to say you will trust yourself on that bush!" exclaimed Mansfield in astonishment. 66 Why, it is not three feet from the ground-and if the tiger charges, you are perfectly at his mercy." "It is not exactly the most desirable seat in the world," replied the old gentleman, laughing; " but it is better than nothing. The tiger is less likely to charge me there, than if I were on foot. And supposing he does come at me, I must just trust to Providence and old Kill-devil,' as I have often done before. Here, Ishmail, just throw a cumbley over it, to keep out the thorns, and help me to get up. So, so!-that's very comfortable-now then, my rifle, and then to work. Don't spare the rockets-singe his whiskers for him, the blackguard." Ishmail grinned a fiendish smile as he moved off to obey his orders. The bush which Lorimer had selected for his seat was one of those thorny shrubs which, growing in round isolated masses, become so densely matted and interwoven together as to afford an excellent seat, which, when covered by a thick blanket, to defend one from the thorns, is almost as comfortable as an air cushion. On the top of this sat old Lorimer, much to the amusement of his young companions, with his legs crossed under him and his rifle resting on his knees, looking perfectly happy, and very much like the figure of a Chinese mandarin on a mantel-piece. Whizz!-crack!-away goes a rocket darting through the tangled brushwood in a zigzag course, like a fiery serpent. It is answered by a tremendous roar which makes the earth tremble. Hurra! a whole volley of rockets sweep the ravine, like a storm of fire. Now then he must show himself-nothing but a salamander can stand this. Every rifle is cocked, and every eye strained to catch a glimpse of the skulking savage. |