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Amazing every day! Champavat tigress. Historical facts and fiction of filmmakers

Edward James "Jim" Corbett was a famous Indian hunter of man-eating animals.

Corbett held the rank of colonel in the British Indian Army and was repeatedly invited by the United Provinces government to exterminate man-eating tigers and leopards in the Garhwal and Kumaon regions. For his success in saving the inhabitants of the region from man-eating animals, he earned the respect of the inhabitants, many of whom considered him a sadhu - a saint.

Between 1907 and 1938, Corbett is documented to have hunted and shot 19 tigers and 14 leopards, officially documented as man-eaters. These animals were responsible for the deaths of more than 1,200 people. The first tiger he killed, the Champawat man-eater, was responsible for the documented deaths of 436 people.

The Champawat tigress (Champawat man-eater) was a Bengal tiger killed in 1911 by Jim Corbett. The Champawat tigress is said to have killed 436 people in Nepal and the Kumaon region of India.

After killing more than 200 people in Nepal, the tigress, pursued by the Nepalese army, moved to Kumaon, where she continued to attack people. She was so brave that she roared along the roads around the villages, terrorizing local residents, and often tried to break into their huts.

After she killed a 16-year-old girl during the day, she was shot and killed by Jim Corbett.

In the town of Champawat there is a “cement slab” that marks the place of death of the tigress.

Corbett also shot a Panar leopard, which, after being wounded by a poacher, could no longer hunt its usual prey and, having become a man-eater, killed about 400 people. Other man-eating beasts destroyed by Corbett include the Talladesh Man-Eater, the Mohan Tigress, the Tak Man-Eater, and the Choguar Man-Eating Tigress.

Jim Corbett and the tiger he shot Povalgarskiy bachelor

The most famous of the man-eaters Corbett shot was the leopard from Rudraprayag, which terrorized pilgrims heading to the Hindu shrines of Kedarnath and Badrinath for more than a decade. Analysis of the skull and teeth of this leopard showed the presence of gum disease and the presence of broken teeth, which did not allow him to hunt for his usual food and was the reason that the animal became a cannibal.

Jim Corbett near the body of the man-eating leopard he shot from Rudraprayag in 1925

After skinning the man-eating tigress from Taka, Jim Corbett discovered two old gunshot wounds, one of which (in the shoulder) became septic, and, according to Corbett’s assumption, was the reason for the transformation of the beast into a cannibal. Analysis of the skulls, bones and skins of man-eating animals showed that many of them suffered from diseases and wounds, such as deeply embedded and broken porcupine quills or unresolved gunshot wounds.

In the preface to The Kumaon Cannibals, Corbett wrote:

The wound that forced the tiger to become a man-eater may be the result of an unsuccessful shot by a hunter who did not then pursue the wounded animal, or the result of a collision with a porcupine.

Since sport hunting of predatory animals was common among the upper classes of British India in the 1900s, this led to the regular appearance of man-eating animals.

In his own words, Corbett only once shot an animal that was innocent of human deaths, and he greatly regretted it. Corbett noted that man-eating animals themselves are capable of pursuing the hunter. Therefore, he preferred to hunt alone and pursue the beast on foot. He often hunted with his dog, a spaniel named Robin, which he wrote about in detail in his first book, The Man-Eaters of Kumaon.

Corbett risked his life to save the lives of others, earning him the respect of the communities in which he hunted.

, United Provinces, British India - April 19, Nyeri, Kenya) - English hunter, conservationist, naturalist, writer.

Known as a hunter of cannibal animals and the author of a number of stories about the nature of India.

Life and activities

Youth

Jim Corbett was born into an Irish family in Nainital, in Kumaon, in the foothills of the Himalayas in northern India. He was the eighth of thirteen children born to Christopher and Mary Jane Corbett. The family also had a summer home in Kaladhungi, where Jim spent a lot of time.

Jim was fascinated by wildlife since childhood; he learned to distinguish the voices of birds and animals. Over the years he became good hunter and a tracker. Corbett attended Oak Openings School, later renamed Philander Smith College, and St Joseph's College in Nainital.

Before reaching the age of 19, he left college and began working for the Bengal and North Western railway, first as a fuel inspector at Manakpur (Punjab) and later as a cargo handling contractor at Mokameh Ghat station in Bihar.

Hunting for cannibalistic animals

Between 1907 and 1938, Corbett is documented to have hunted and shot 19 tigers and 14 leopards, officially documented as man-eaters. These animals were responsible for the deaths of more than 1,200 people. The first tiger he killed, the Champavat man-eater, was responsible for the documented deaths of 436 people.

The most famous of the man-eaters shot by Corbett was the leopard from Rudraprayag, which terrorized locals and pilgrims heading to the Hindu shrines at Kedarnath and Badrinath for eight years. Analysis of the skull and teeth of this leopard showed the presence of gum disease and the presence of broken teeth, which did not allow him to hunt for his usual food and was the reason that the animal became a cannibal.

After skinning the man-eating tigress from Tak, Jim Corbett discovered two old gunshot wounds in her body, one of which (in the shoulder) became septic, and, according to Corbett, was the reason for the transformation of the beast into a man-eater. Analysis of the skulls, bones and skins of man-eating animals showed that many of them suffered from diseases and wounds, such as deeply embedded and broken porcupine quills or unresolved gunshot wounds.

In the preface to The Kumaon Cannibals, Corbett wrote:

Corbett risked his life to save the lives of others, earning him the respect of the communities in which he hunted.

Participation in the First World War

Hunter becomes conservationist

In the late 1920s, Corbett bought his first movie camera and began making films about the lives of tigers. Although he had excellent knowledge of the jungle, it was very difficult to get good shots due to the secretive nature of the animals.

Corbett was concerned about the fate of tigers and their habitat. He lectured to schoolchildren about natural heritage and the need to preserve forests and their fauna, contributed to the creation of the Association for the Conservation of Wild Animals in the United Provinces, and the All India Conference for the Conservation of wildlife(English) All-India Conference for the Conservation of Wildlife ). Along with F.W. Champion, he played key role in creating the first national park in Kumaon, Hailey National Park, originally named for Lord Malcolm Haley.

Participation in World War II

Retired in Kenya

Jim Corbett died of a heart attack on April 19, 1955, at the age of 79, days after completing his sixth book. Tree Tops. He is buried in St Peter's Anglican Church cemetery in Nyeri, Kenya.

Heritage

Corbett's house in the Indian village of Kaladhungi, Nainital, has been converted into his museum. The 221-acre plot of land that Corbett bought in 1915 is still in its original condition. Also preserved in the village are the house that Corbett built for his friend Moti Singh, and Corbett's Wall, a 7.2 km long stone wall protecting the village fields from wild animals.

Literary activity

Jim Corbett's first book (The Cannibals of Kumaon) had big success in India, UK and USA. The first American edition had a circulation of 250,000 copies. Subsequently, the book “Kumaon Cannibals” was translated into 27 languages.

Corbett's fourth book (Jungle Science) is actually his autobiography.

Bibliography

Name	English Name	Synopsis
"Kumaon Cannibals"	Man-eaters of Kumaon	Autobiographical notes on the hunt for man-eating animals in Kumaon, India.
"Leopard from Rudraprayag"	The Man-eating Leopard of Rudraprayag	The story of the hunt for a man-eating leopard from Rudraprayag.
"My India"	My India	Autobiographical notes about life in India in late XIX first half of the 20th century.
"Jungle Science"	Jungle Lore	Autobiographical notes about Corbett's youth.
"Temple Tiger"	The Temple Tiger and more man-eaters of Kumaon	Autobiographical notes about the hunt for man-eating animals in Kumaon and about the nature of India.
"Tris Tops"	Tree Tops	Notes about the visit British princess Elizabeth hunting lodge-hotel in Kenya.

Documentary and feature films

In 1986, the BBC produced the docudrama Cannibals of India. Man-Eaters of India) with Fred Trevize as Corbett.
In 2002, based on Corbett's books, the IMAX film India: The Tiger Kingdom was released. India: Kingdom of the Tiger) with Christopher Heyerdahl as Corbett.
In 2005, a television film based on the book “The Leopard of Rudraprayag” was released. The Man-Eating Leopard of Rudraprayag ) starring Jason Flemyng.

Write a review of the article "Corbett, Jim"

Literature

Martin Booth. Carpet Sahib: A Life of Jim Corbett. - Oxford University Press, USA, 1991. - 288 p. - ISBN 0192828592.

Notes

Dr. Shreenivaas Barge.(English) (inaccessible link - story) . - short biography Jim Corbett - third edition. Retrieved July 21, 2010. .
Stephen Mills. Tiger. - Firefly Books, 2004. - P. 99. - 168 p. - ISBN 978-1552979495.
Jim Corbett. Kumaon cannibals. - ARMADA-PRESS, 1999. - 396 p. - ISBN 5-7632-0825-0.
M. Rangarajan. India's Wildlife History: an Introduction. - Delhi: Permanent Black and Ranthambore Foundation, 2006. - P. 70. - ISBN 8178241404.
V. Thapar.. - Delhi: Permanent Black, 2001.
R.J. Prickett. Treetops: Story of A World Famous Hotel. - Nairn Scotland: David & Charles, 1998. - 200 p. - ISBN 0715390201.
G.K. Sharma.(English) . The Sunday Tribune (26 May 2002). Retrieved July 20, 2010. .
Visitors" log book of 1954, Treetops hotel, Kenya. Guest registration book of the Tree Tops Hotel, Kenya, for 1954.
Jaleel, J.A.(English) (inaccessible link - story) (2009). Retrieved July 20, 2010.

Excerpt characterizing Corbett, Jim

A French hussar non-commissioned officer, in a crimson uniform and a shaggy hat, shouted at Balashev as he approached, ordering him to stop. Balashev did not stop immediately, but continued to walk along the road.
The non-commissioned officer, frowning and muttering some kind of curse, advanced with the chest of his horse towards Balashev, took up his saber and rudely shouted at the Russian general, asking him: is he deaf, that he does not hear what is being said to him. Balashev identified himself. The non-commissioned officer sent the soldier to the officer.
Not paying attention to Balashev, the non-commissioned officer began to talk with his comrades about his regimental business and did not look at the Russian general.
It was unusually strange for Balashev, after being close to supreme authority and the power, after a conversation three hours ago with the sovereign and generally accustomed to honors due to its service, to see here, on Russian soil, this hostile and, most importantly, disrespectful attitude towards itself by brute force.
The sun was just beginning to rise from behind the clouds; the air was fresh and dewy. On the way, the herd was driven out of the village. In the fields, one by one, like bubbles in water, the larks burst into life with a hooting sound.
Balashev looked around him, waiting for the arrival of an officer from the village. The Russian Cossacks, the trumpeter, and the French hussars silently looked at each other from time to time.
A French hussar colonel, apparently just out of bed, rode out of the village on a beautiful, well-fed gray horse, accompanied by two hussars. The officer, the soldiers and their horses wore an air of contentment and panache.
This was the first time of the campaign, when the troops were still in good order, almost equal to the inspection, peaceful activity, only with a touch of smart belligerence in clothing and with a moral connotation of that fun and enterprise that always accompany the beginning of campaigns.
The French colonel had difficulty holding back a yawn, but was polite and, apparently, understood the full significance of Balashev. He led him past his soldiers by the chain and said that his desire to be presented to the emperor would probably be fulfilled immediately, since the imperial apartment, as far as he knew, was not far away.
They drove through the village of Rykonty, past French hussar hitching posts, sentries and soldiers saluting their colonel and curiously examining the Russian uniform, and drove out to the other side of the village. According to the colonel, the division chief was two kilometers away, who would receive Balashev and see him off to his destination.
The sun had already risen and shone cheerfully on the bright greenery.
They had just left the tavern on the mountain when a group of horsemen appeared from under the mountain to meet them, in front of which, on a black horse with harness shining in the sun, rode a tall man in a hat with feathers and black hair curled to the shoulders, in a red robe and with with long legs stuck out forward, like the French ride. This man galloped towards Balashev, his feathers, stones and gold braid shining and fluttering in the bright June sun.
Balashev was already two horses away from the horseman galloping towards him with a solemnly theatrical face in bracelets, feathers, necklaces and gold, when Yulner, the French colonel, respectfully whispered: “Le roi de Naples.” [King of Naples.] Indeed, it was Murat, now called the King of Naples. Although it was completely incomprehensible why he was the Neapolitan king, he was called that, and he himself was convinced of this and therefore had a more solemn and important appearance than before. He was so sure that he was really the Neapolitan king that, on the eve of his departure from Naples, while he was walking with his wife through the streets of Naples, several Italians shouted to him: “Viva il re!” [Long live the king! (Italian) ] he turned to his wife with a sad smile and said: “Les malheureux, ils ne savent pas que je les quitte demain! [Unhappy people, they don’t know that I’m leaving them tomorrow!]
But despite the fact that he firmly believed that he was the Neapolitan king, and that he regretted the sorrow of his subjects leaving him, in Lately, after he was ordered to enter the service again, and especially after a meeting with Napoleon in Danzig, when the august brother-in-law told him: “Je vous ai fait Roi pour regner a maniere, mais pas a la votre,” [I have made you king in order to reign not in his own way, but in mine.] - he cheerfully set about a task familiar to him and, like a well-fed, but not fat, horse fit for service, feeling himself in the harness, began to play in the shafts and, having discharged himself as colorfully as possible and dearer, cheerful and contented, he galloped, not knowing where or why, along the roads of Poland.
Seeing the Russian general, he royally and solemnly threw back his head with shoulder-length curled hair and looked questioningly at the French colonel. The Colonel respectfully conveyed to His Majesty the significance of Balashev, whose surname he could not pronounce.
- De Bal macheve! - said the king (with his decisiveness overcoming the difficulty presented to the colonel), - charme de faire votre connaissance, general, [it’s very nice to meet you, general] - he added with a royally gracious gesture. As soon as the king began to speak loudly and quickly, all royal dignity instantly left him, and he, without noticing it, switched to his characteristic tone of good-natured familiarity. He put his hand on the withers of Balashev's horse.
“Eh, bien, general, tout est a la guerre, a ce qu"il parait, [Well, general, things seem to be heading towards war,] he said, as if regretting a circumstance about which he did not could judge.
“Sire,” answered Balashev. “l"Empereur mon maitre ne desire point la guerre, et comme Votre Majeste le voit,” said Balashev, using Votre Majeste in all cases, [The Russian Emperor does not want her, as your Majesty is pleased to see... your Majesty.] with inevitable the affectation of increasing the frequency of the title, addressing a person for whom this title is still news.
Murat's face shone with stupid contentment as he listened to Monsieur de Balachoff. But royaute oblige: [the royal rank has its responsibilities:] he felt the need to talk with Alexander's envoy about state affairs, as a king and an ally. He got off his horse and, taking Balashev by the arm and moving a few steps away from the respectfully waiting retinue, began walking with him back and forth, trying to speak significantly. He mentioned that Emperor Napoleon was offended by the demands for the withdrawal of troops from Prussia, especially now that this demand had become known to everyone and when the dignity of France was insulted. Balashev said that there was nothing offensive in this demand, because... Murat interrupted him:
- So you think it was not Emperor Alexander who was the instigator? - he said unexpectedly with a good-naturedly stupid smile.
Balashev said why he really believed that Napoleon was the start of the war.
“Eh, mon cher general,” Murat interrupted him again, “je desire de tout mon c?ur que les Empereurs s"arrangent entre eux, et que la guerre commencee malgre moi se termine le plutot possible, [Ah, dear general, I wish with all my heart that the emperors put an end to the matter between themselves and that the war, started against my will, ends as soon as possible.] - he said in the tone of the conversation of servants who want to remain good friends, despite the quarrel between the masters. And he moved on to questions about the Grand Duke, about his health and about the memories of the fun and amusing time spent with him in Naples. Then, as if suddenly remembering his royal dignity, Murat solemnly straightened up, stood in the same position in which he stood at the coronation, and , waving right hand, said: – Je ne vous retiens plus, general; je souhaite le succes de vorte mission, [I will not detain you any longer, General; I wish success to your embassy] - and, fluttering with a red embroidered robe and feathers and glittering with jewelry, he went to the retinue, respectfully waiting for him.
Balashev went further, according to Murat, expecting to be introduced to Napoleon himself very soon. But instead of a quick meeting with Napoleon, the sentries of Davout's infantry corps again detained him at the next village, as in the advanced chain, and the adjutant of the corps commander was summoned and escorted him to the village to see Marshal Davout.

Davout was Arakcheev of the Emperor Napoleon - Arakcheev is not a coward, but just as serviceable, cruel and unable to express his devotion except by cruelty.
The mechanism of the state organism needs these people, just as wolves are needed in the body of nature, and they always exist, always appear and stick around, no matter how incongruous their presence and proximity to the head of government seems. Only this necessity can explain how the cruel, uneducated, uncourtly Arakcheev, who personally tore out the mustaches of the grenadiers and could not withstand danger due to his weak nerves, could maintain such strength despite the knightly noble and gentle character of Alexander.
Balashev found Marshal Davout in the barn of a peasant's hut, sitting on a barrel and busy with writing (he was checking accounts). The adjutant stood next to him. It was possible to find a better place, but Marshal Davout was one of those people who deliberately put themselves in the gloomiest conditions of life in order to have the right to be gloomy. For the same reason, they are always hastily and persistently busy. “Where is there to think about the happy side? human life when, you see, I’m sitting on a barrel in a dirty barn and working,” said the expression on his face. The main pleasure and need of these people is to, having encountered the revival of life, throw gloomy, stubborn activity into the eyes of this revival. Davout gave himself this pleasure when Balashev was brought in to him. He went even deeper into his work when the Russian general entered, and, looking through his glasses at Balashev’s animated face, impressed by the wonderful morning and the conversation with Murat, he did not get up, did not even move, but frowned even more and grinned viciously.
Noticing the unpleasant impression this technique produced on Balashev’s face, Davout raised his head and coldly asked what he needed.
Assuming that such a reception could be given to him only because Davout does not know that he is the adjutant general of Emperor Alexander and even his representative before Napoleon, Balashev hastened to announce his rank and appointment. Contrary to his expectations, Davout, after listening to Balashev, became even more severe and rude.
- Where is your package? - he said. – Donnez le moi, ije l"enverrai a l"Empereur. [Give it to me, I will send it to the emperor.]
Balashev said that he had orders to personally hand over the package to the emperor himself.
“The orders of your emperor are carried out in your army, but here,” said Davout, “you must do what you are told.”
And as if in order to make the Russian general even more aware of his dependence on brute force, Davout sent the adjutant for the duty officer.
Balashev took out the package containing the sovereign’s letter and placed it on the table (a table consisting of a door with torn hinges sticking out, placed on two barrels). Davout took the envelope and read the inscription.
“You have absolutely the right to show or not show me respect,” said Balashev. “But let me point out that I have the honor to bear the title of His Majesty’s Adjutant General...”
Davout looked at him silently, and some excitement and embarrassment expressed on Balashev’s face apparently gave him pleasure.
“You will be given your due,” he said and, putting the envelope in his pocket, he left the barn.
A minute later, the Marshal's adjutant, Mr. de Castres, entered and led Balashev into the room prepared for him.
Balashev dined that day with the marshal in the same barn, on the same board on barrels.
The next day, Davout left early in the morning and, inviting Balashev to his place, impressively told him that he asked him to stay here, move along with the luggage if they had orders to do so, and not talk to anyone except Mister de Castro.
After four days of solitude, boredom, a sense of subordination and insignificance, especially palpable after the environment of power in which he had so recently found himself, after several marches along with the marshal’s luggage, with the French troops occupying the entire area, Balashev was brought to Vilna, now occupied by the French , to the same outpost where he left four days ago.
The next day, the imperial chamberlain, monsieur de Turenne, came to Balashev and conveyed to him the desire of Emperor Napoleon to honor him with an audience.
Four days ago, at the house to which Balashev was taken, there were sentries of the Preobrazhensky Regiment, but now there were two French grenadiers in blue uniforms open on their chests and in shaggy hats, a convoy of hussars and lancers and a brilliant retinue of adjutants, pages and generals waiting to leave Napoleon around a riding horse standing at the porch and his Mameluke Rustav. Napoleon received Balashev in the very house in Vilva from which Alexander sent him.

Despite Balashev's habit of court solemnity, the luxury and pomp of Emperor Napoleon's court amazed him.
Count Turen led him into a large reception room, where many generals, chamberlains and Polish magnates were waiting, many of whom Balashev had seen at the court of the Russian emperor. Duroc said that Emperor Napoleon would receive the Russian general before his walk.
After several minutes of waiting, the chamberlain on duty came out into the large reception room and, bowing politely to Balashev, invited him to follow him.

Edward James "Jim" Corbett(eng. Edward James "Jim" Corbett; July 25, 1875, Nainital, United Provinces, British India - April 19, 1955, Nyeri, Kenya) - English hunter, conservationist, naturalist, writer.

Known as a hunter of cannibal animals and the author of a number of stories about the nature of India.

Jim Corbett was an avid photography and film enthusiast. After retirement, he began to write books about the nature of India, hunting for man-eating animals and life common people British India. Corbett also actively advocated for the protection of Indian wildlife. A national park was named in his honor in 1957.

Life and activities

Youth

Jim was fascinated by wildlife since childhood; he learned to distinguish the voices of birds and animals. Over the years, he became a good hunter and tracker. Corbett attended Oak Openings School, later renamed Philander Smith College, and St Joseph's College in Nainital.

Before reaching the age of 19, he left college and began working for the Bengal and North Western Railway, first as a fuel inspector at Manakpur (Punjab) and then as a cargo handling contractor at Mokameh Ghat station in Bihar.

Hunting for cannibalistic animals

The most famous of the man-eaters Corbett shot was the leopard from Rudraprayag, which for eight years terrorized locals and pilgrims heading to the Hindu shrines of Kedarnath and Badrinath. Analysis of the skull and teeth of this leopard showed the presence of gum disease and the presence of broken teeth, which did not allow him to hunt for his usual food and was the reason that the animal became a cannibal.

In the preface to The Kumaon Cannibals, Corbett wrote:

Since sport hunting of predatory animals was common among the upper classes of British India in the 1900s, this led to the regular appearance of man-eating animals.

Champawat tigress is female bengal tiger, which lived at the end of the 19th century in Nepal and India. She is listed in the Guinness Book of Records as the most bloodthirsty of all man-eating tigers - over the course of several years she killed at least 430 people.

No one knows why the tigress began to attack people. Her attacks began suddenly - people walking through the jungle began to disappear in dozens at once. Hunters and soldiers from the Nepalese army were sent to fight the tigress. They failed to shoot or catch the predator, but the soldiers were able to drive the tigress out of Nepal into Indian territory.

And here's what happened next...

In India, the tigress continued her bloody feast. She became bolder and attacked people even during the day. The predator simply wandered near the villages until she came across her next victim. Life in the region was paralyzed - people refused to leave their homes and go to work if they heard a tiger growl in the forest.

Finally, in 1907, the English hunter Jim Corbett shot the tigress. He tracked her down near Indian city Champawat, where a tigress killed a 16-year-old girl. When Jim Corbett examined his hunting trophy, he discovered that the tigress’s upper and lower right fangs were broken off. Apparently, this is what forced her to hunt people - a tiger with such a defect does not have access to normal prey.

In the town of Champawat there is a “cement slab” that marks the place of death of the tigress.
You can read more about the Champawat tigress and the hunt for her in Jim Corbett’s autobiographical book “Kumaon Cannibals”

And now a little about the personality of the hunter himself!

Edward James "Jim" Corbett -

famous hunter of man-eating animals in India.

These animals were responsible for the deaths of more than 1,200 people. The first tiger he killed, the Champawat man-eater, was the cause of the documented deaths of 436 people.

Jim Corbett near the body of the man-eating leopard he shot from Rudraprayag in 1925

In the preface to The Kumaon Cannibals, Corbett wrote:

The wound that forced the tiger to become a man-eater may be the result of an unsuccessful shot by a hunter who did not then pursue the wounded animal, or the result of a collision with a porcupine.

Since sport hunting of predatory animals was common among the upper classes of British India in the 1900s, this led to the regular appearance of man-eating animals.

Corbett risked his life to save the lives of others, earning him the respect of the communities in which he hunted.

Jim Corbett

TEMPLE TIGER

INSTEAD OF EPIGRAPHES

1. “Soon the tiger extended his paw forward, followed by the other, then very slowly, without lifting his belly from the ground, he pulled himself towards the prey. After lying motionless for several minutes, still not taking his eyes off me, he felt the cow’s tail with his lips, bit it off, put it aside and began to eat... The rifle lay on my knees with the barrel in the direction where the tiger was, I just had to lift it to my shoulder . I could have done it if the tiger had taken his eyes off me for just a moment. But he was aware of the danger that threatened him and, without taking his eyes off me, he ate slowly, but without stopping.”

2. “...a group of twelve Europeans with combat rifles passed me. A few minutes later they were followed by a sergeant and two soldiers with flags and shooting targets. Sergeant, kind soul, informed me that the people who had just passed were heading to the training ground and that they were staying together because of the cannibals.”

3. “In general, tigers, excluding the wounded and cannibals, are very good-natured.”

J. Corbett. "Temple Tiger"

TEMPLE TIGER

Anyone who has never lived in the Himalayas cannot imagine how great the power of superstition over people in this sparsely populated region. But the various kinds of beliefs professed by the educated inhabitants of the valleys and foothills are not much different from the superstitions of simple, illiterate mountaineers. In fact, the difference is so small that it is difficult to decide where beliefs end and superstition begins. Therefore, I would ask the reader, if he has a desire to laugh at the simplicity of the participants in the event about which I am about to relate, to wait and try to establish whether the superstitions I have described differ in any way from the dogmas of the religion in which he was brought up.

So, after the First World War, Robert Ballears and I hunted in the interior of Kumaon. One September evening we camped at the foot of Trisul, at the very spot where, we were informed, eight hundred goats were annually sacrificed to the spirit of that mountain. There were fifteen mountaineers with us. Never before on a hunt have I had to deal with people so cheerful and zealous in fulfilling their duties. One of them, Bala Singh, a Garhwalian, I knew for a number of years, and he accompanied me on many expeditions. He was especially proud of the fact that during the hunt he carried the heaviest bale of my luggage and, walking ahead, encouraged the others by singing. In the evenings, at rest stops, before going to bed, our people always sang around the fire. That first evening at the foot of Trisul they sat longer than usual. We could hear singing, clapping, shouting and banging on tin cans.

We had decided in advance to stop in this place to hunt tahrs, so we were extremely surprised when in the morning, sitting down to breakfast, we saw that our people were preparing to break up the camp. When asked to explain what was the matter, they replied that this site was not suitable for a camp, that it was damp, the water was undrinkable, fuel was difficult to get, and that, finally, there was a better place two miles away.

My luggage had been carried the day before by six Garhwal men. I noticed that now the things were packed into five bales, and Bala Singh was sitting by the fire, separately from everyone else, with a blanket thrown over his head and shoulders. After breakfast I went to see him. The others stopped working and began to watch us with intense attention. Bala Singh saw me approaching, but did not even try to say hello (which was unusual for him) and answered all my questions only that he was not sick. That day we walked the two miles in complete silence. Bala Singh brought up the rear and moved as sleepwalkers or drugged people move.

What was happening to Bala Singh also depressed the other fourteen people; they worked without the usual enthusiasm, tension and fear were frozen on their faces. While they were setting up the tent in which Robert and I lived, I took aside my Garhwal servant Moti Singh - I had known him for twenty-five years - and demanded that he tell me what had happened to Bala Singh. Moti avoided answering for a long time, saying something unintelligible, but in the end I got a confession out of him.

As we sat near the fire last night and sang, said Moti Singh, the spirit of Trisul jumped into Bala Singh's mouth and he swallowed it. Everyone started screaming and hitting tins to drive out the spirit, but we didn’t succeed, and now nothing can be done.

Bala Singh sat to the side, the blanket still covering his head. He could not hear my conversation with Moti Singh, so I approached him and asked him to tell me what had happened to him the previous evening. Bala Singh looked at me with eyes full of despair for a minute, then said hopelessly:

It is useless to tell you, sahib, what happened last night: you will not believe me.

Have I ever not believed you? - I asked.

No,” he answered, “you always believed me, but you won’t understand that.”

Whether I understand or not, I still want you to tell me in detail what happened.

After a long pause, Bala Singh replied:

Okay, sahib, I'll tell you. You know that when our mountain songs are sung, usually one person starts singing, and everyone else picks up the chorus in chorus. So, last night I sang a song, and the spirit of Trisul jumped into my mouth and, although I tried to push it out, jumped through my throat into my stomach. The fire burned brightly, and everyone saw how I struggled with my spirit; the others also tried to drive him away, shouting and hitting the jars, but,” he added, sobbing, “the spirit did not want to leave.”

Where is the spirit now? - I asked.

Putting his hand on his stomach, Bala Singh said with conviction:

He is here, sahib. I feel him tossing and turning.

Robert spent the entire day exploring the area west of the camp and killed one of the tars he encountered. After dinner we sat until late at night, discussing the situation. For months we made plans and dreamed about this hunt. Robert and I walked for seven days along difficult roads to the hunting site, and on the very first evening after arriving here, Bala Singh swallows the spirit of Trisul. It doesn't matter what Robert and I thought about it. What was important was that our people believed that the spirit was really in Bala Singh’s stomach, so they avoided him in fear. It is clear that hunting in such conditions was impossible. Therefore Robert, although very reluctantly, agreed that I should return with Bala Singh to Naini Tal. The next morning, after packing my things, I had breakfast with Robert and headed back to Naini-Tal. The journey there was supposed to take ten days.

Leaving Naini Tal, thirty-year-old Bala Singh was cheerful and full of energy person. Now he was returning silent, with a dull look, and his appearance indicated that he had completely lost interest in life. My sisters - one of them was a medical aid worker - did everything they could for him. He was visited by friends, both those who came from afar and those who lived nearby, but he sat indifferently at the door of his house and spoke only when addressed to him. At my request, he was visited by the district doctor of Naini-Tala, Colonel Cook, a man great experience And close friend our family. After a long and careful examination, he stated that Bala Singh was physically completely healthy, but he could not establish the cause of his apparent depression.

A few days later, an idea struck me. At that time, a famous Indian doctor was in Naini-Tala. I thought that if I could persuade him to examine Bala Singh and only then, after telling about what had happened, ask him to convince the “patient” that there was no spirit in his stomach, the doctor would be able to help the trouble. This seemed all the more feasible since the doctor not only professed Hinduism, but was himself a mountaineer. My calculation did not come true. As soon as the doctor saw the “patient,” he immediately suspected something was wrong. And when, from the answers to his cunning questions, he learned from Bala Singh that the spirit of Trisul was in his stomach, he hastily recoiled from him and, turning to me, said:

I am very sorry that you sent for me. I can't do anything for him.

There were two people from the village where Bala Singh lived in Naini Tal. The next day I sent for them. They knew what had happened because they had visited Bal Singh several times, and at my request they agreed to take him home. I supplied them with money, and the next morning all three set out on an eight-day journey. Three weeks later, Bala Singh's countrymen returned and told me what had happened.

Bala Singh reached the village safely. On the very first evening after arriving home, when relatives and friends gathered around him, he announced that the spirit wanted to be freed and return to Trisul, and the only thing left for him, Bala Singh, to do was die.

And so,” they concluded their story, “Bala Singh lay down and died; the next morning we helped burn it.

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Amazing every day! Champavat tigress. Historical facts and fiction of filmmakers

Life and activities

Youth

Hunting for cannibalistic animals

Participation in the First World War

Hunter becomes conservationist

Participation in World War II

Retired in Kenya

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Literary activity

Bibliography

Documentary and feature films

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Amazing every day! Champavat tigress. Historical facts and fiction of filmmakers

Life and activities

Youth

Hunting for cannibalistic animals

Participation in the First World War

Hunter becomes conservationist

Participation in World War II

Retired in Kenya

Heritage

Literary activity

Bibliography

Documentary and feature films

Write a review of the article "Corbett, Jim"

Literature

Links

Notes

Excerpt characterizing Corbett, Jim

Life and activities

Youth

Hunting for cannibalistic animals

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