|
The Reverend Singh paid off the diggers and took charge of the children.
After taking obligatory refreshment with the headman he managed to
procure two bamboo cages, to which he transferred his captives, paralysed
with fear and offering little resistance, under the gaze of the equally
frightened but curious crowd that had gathered round the bullock carts.
News of their capture had travelled before them, and here perhaps the
Reverend Singh had his first taste of the inconvenience and even danger
which publicity could cause. Only a select few were allowed to satisfy their
curiosity.
After they had gone, an attempt was made under Singh's supervision to
bathe the children. Their bodies were encrusted with dirt and mud, smelt
strongly of the wolves' den and appeared from their scratching to be full
of fleas and other parasites. But the operation was not a success.
The children reacted violently to being touched or to any contact with
water. What dirt could be removed revealed a large number of small
scars and scratches all over their bodies, and on their elbows, knees and the
heels of their hands, heavy calluses -- presumably from going on all fours.
Although thin, they were otherwise in good condition and apart from
their matted hair, long nails that curled over like blunted talons and an
inability or unwillingness to stand, they appeared at first physically no
different from other human children.
They were both girls, one aged about three years old and the other
perhaps five or six. They seemed very small to those who saw them at this
stage, perhaps smaller than their actual size because they were constantly
in a crouched position, but they could be picked up and carried in the arms
without difficulty.
On everyone's mind was the question of how the children ever came to
be with the wolves. Inquiries were made among the villages, to find out if
any children had been lost in the last five years or stolen by wild animals.
but there had been no positive response.
The Reverend Singh suggested that the girls might have been deliberately
abandoned and later picked up by the wolves in the forest, which meant
that no one would dare come forward to claim them.
Exposure among the Santals was extremely rare but some other local
tribes still practised it and, although the children were clearly of aboriginal
descent, there was no guarantee that they were Santals.
Around the dinner table the theory was put forward that a she-wolf who
had lost her cubs might have stolen a child, left alone by its mother while working in the fields or gathering roots in the forest, as a replacement for
her own and taken it back to her lair and suckled it.
Alternatively. she could have stolen the child for food, a common enough
occurrence in jungle districts, only neglected to kill it before reaching the
den, where its scent had become confused with that of her cubs, encouraging
her to accept it as one of her litter.
From the moment he first sighted the children through Mr. Rose's field-glasses, the Reverend Singh had never been in any doubt that it was his duty
to rescue them.
Although he would come to question the wisdom of this course in future
years, wondering if they might not have been happier left alone, regretting
particularly the slaying of the mother wolf, he was quite certain at this time
that he had taken the right decision.
|
