Chapter Forty Eight.Pleasant Days at the Fort.Matters seemed to grow worse from the moment that Adam Gray started off on his mission to the steamer, and Captain Smithers’ brows seemed to have settled into a constant frown, for it was no light matter to be in command of the little fort, right away from aid, and only with a limited supply of provisions. They might be made to last weeks or months; but the end must come, and he saw no chance of help from outside, unless the steamer went off to the nearest station in search thereof.Then there was the constant worry upon his brain about the expedition and its fate, for there could be no doubt about Ali’s news; the force had been divided by cunning, and with such treacherous enemies he felt but little hope of seeing any of the party again.Fortunately for him and the sharers of his imprisonment—for it was little else—their minds were too much occupied by the defence of the place to give them time to sit and brood over their troubles. There was always something to do, some weak part to strengthen; and Captain Smithers longed for the help of the lieutenant with the steamer to guard outside of the fort.There was this to consider too—if Lieutenant Johnson could get the “Startler” off the mud, and round to the other side by Dullah’s hut and the landing-place, if they were very hard pressed the fort could be abandoned, and, with the women, they could take refuge on board. Or better still—though he felt reluctant to make such an arrangement—the women could be got on board, and then the fort could be defended to the last extremity.In the course of those next hours while awaiting Gray’s return, the Malays made two or three sharp attacks, all of which were repelled; and then, unable to assist, they waited, and listened to the engagement going on upon the other side of the patch of jungle that clothed a part of the island. The heavy reports of the steamer’s guns made the frames of the lightly-built dwellings rattle, and the smoke could be seen rising above the trees; but how the tide of war set it was impossible to tell, and Captain Smithers, as he walked up and down, felt as if he would have given anything for a trusty native spy who would have sought out news of what was going on.Failing this, and not daring to send out a second party, although Tom Long volunteered to go, there was nothing for it but to wait, especially as their besiegers had evidently been greatly augmented in numbers, and one of the soldiers had but to show himself for a moment to bring upon himself a shower of bullets.The suspense grew maddening, as the noise of the engagement between the prahus and the “Startler” increased. The yells of the Malays could be plainly heard; then the reports of the heavy guns ceased; there was a little rifle firing, the occasional crack of a revolver; and lastly came the faintly-heard noise of men contending in deadly strife.This lasted for a while, and the occupants of the fort mentally pictured the scene going on, but they could not comprehend the strange shrieking they heard as of men in terrible pain.Captain Smithers’ heart sank, and he glanced at Tom Long, in whose countenance he read a confirmation of his fears; and on looking farther he saw Mrs Major Sandars, with Rachel Linton and her cousin, watching him attentively.They read his face too as he turned away, and their dread also seemed confirmed.That ominous silence of the steamer’s guns pointed to the fact that she had been boarded by the Malays in too strong parties to be successfully resisted, and a deep gloom sank upon all within the fort.There was not a man present who would not willingly have gone to the help of those on board the steamer; but not only were they hemmed-in, but had they made a successful sally they had no means of reaching her.Nothing could be done then but wait, in the hope that some on board would escape and join them; and to this end a constant watch for fugitives was kept up, a dozen men standing ready at the gate to rush out and bring any stragglers in.Just when they had descended to the greatest depths of misery, and Tom Long was debating with himself as to whether he ought not to go to Miss Linton and try to comfort her, telling her that so long as his arm could wield a sword she might reckon herself to be perfectly safe, there was a peculiar crashing sound, with a fresh burst of yells and cries.The ladies shuddered, and longed to go in and be alone, but their excitement was such that they felt obliged to stay out there in the opening, risking many bullets, so as to be face to face with the worst.Something terrible had happened they all knew, and at last the suspense was so great that in the presence of the ladies Captain Smithers exclaimed,—“Long, you will have to take a dozen men and learn the worst!”Tom Long glanced at Miss Linton, and for answer tightened his sword belt, and then examined the chambers of his revolver.“I’m ready, sir,” he said, and he set his teeth, for he felt that he should not come back alive. Still he was a soldier, and he accepted his duty without flinching, though it did need an effort to be calm.Just then, as he was about to ask what men he should choose, all ears being attentive to catch the faintest sound from beyond the trees—Boom—crash! went a big gun report and the blow it struck, coming almost simultaneously; and as in his excitement Tom Long sent his cap high in air, there was another echoing report, with a familiar beating and panting sound.“The steamer’s off!” Tom Long cried. “Hurrah!”Discipline was forgotten for the moment, and every man shouted with delight, his cheery “Hurrah!” the cheers being renewed directly after by the following reports of the steamer’s guns; and they knew by the beat of the engines that she was going up stream, firing as she went, evidently in pursuit of a prahu.They had plenty of evidence directly after that the Malays had been beaten, for hurrying parties kept coming from the far side of the island where the engagement had taken place, and as Captain Smithers scanned these with his glass, he could see that their slight garments were soaking wet, baju and sarong clinging to their limbs, and showing that they had had to swim ashore.This was all proof of their having had a thorough beating; and now, with the steamer no longer aground, but ready to come to their help, the spirits of all rose at as rapid a rate as they had gone down.But it was to be no time of rest for them. Captain Smithers, to meet the difficulty of there being no water to be obtained, save by going under fire to the spring, or making a dash for the river, had been giving orders for the sinking of a well in a corner of the fort, when word was passed from sentry to sentry of the advance of the enemy. Then shots were fired, at first scattered, then rapidly; and it was at once evident, that in revenge for their defeat afloat, the crews of some of the prahus had joined those on the island in a general attack.The earth-works were well-made, but they required more men to successfully defend them, and after keeping the enemy at bay by a well-directed fire for some time, Captain Smithers, seeing signs of an approaching rush, and knowing well that this must result in severe loss upon his own side, quietly began to draw his little force away from the earth-works, till he had half in the barracks at the loopholes, from which they began a steady fire over the heads of those at the earthen wall, who, in their turn retired half at a time, the first half joining those who had gone before.Then as the Malays began to realise that the force at the earthen wall was very weak, and showed signs of coming on to carry it by storm, the defenders delivered a sharp volley and dropped out of sight, stooping down and running across to the barracks’ white walls. On seeing that they had given way, the Malays set up a loud cry of triumph, and dashed forward, spear in hand, to occupy the deserted earth-works. They were met by a sharp fire from the barracks, which staggered them for the moment, but they rushed on, and sheltered themselves in the ditch, throwing a few spears at the hindmost of the retreating party; but without effect, for the little garrison was soon shut in and able for the time to defy their assailants.It was evident, however, that they were not to be left in peace, for the Malays now swarmed around them, and dozens might have been shot down; but Captain Smithers gave orders that the fire should be reserved till they attacked.Just as they had finished the barricading of the entrance, a cloud of smoke was seen rising from the side of the residency, and this was followed by flames, leaving no doubt that the pleasant little house had been fired by the Malays; and Captain Smithers frowned as he determined to administer severe punishment to the enemy, if for this act alone.Every opportunity was given him for the administration of the chastisement, the Malays exposing themselves freely, running out of shelter to fire, and then retreating again. Sometimes a fierce demonstration was made by spear-armed men, who came boldly up as if to attack, but soon fell back unmolested, for Captain Smithers felt that no end was to be obtained by simply shooting down a few of the enemy, and his orders were to reserve fire till a fiercer attack was made.This was not long in coming, and it was made quite unexpectedly, just as, wearied out by his efforts, Captain Smithers had left Tom Long in command, and, yielding to the prayers of the major’s wife, had gone in to the mess-room to partake of some refreshment that had been prepared.He had hardly eaten a mouthful—after visiting first the wounded men, to find them being tended by Rachel Linton and her cousin—before the rattle of musketry and the yelling of the Malays told him that something serious had occurred.Catching up his sword, he rushed to where he had left Tom Long, and in a few words he learned that from two points the Malays had suddenly commenced their attack, which was now being carried on in so fierce a manner that unless they received a sufficiently severe check to quell their courage, they would force the defences, and overpower the little garrison by sheer weight of numbers.Fortunate it was that the defences had been so well strengthened, the men firing from behind barricades roughly constructed of tables, the mess forms, and bedding; but in spite of the heavy fire kept up and the number that fell, the Malays dashed up, striving to clamber over, and thrusting their spears through the openings in a way that kept the men back, and nearly crushed the fire that had sputtered from the various loopholes that had been left.Affairs were growing very serious, for Captain Smithers, who had been going from place to place, advising, cheering, and helping the men, suddenly had his attention drawn to the fact that a large party of Malays were bringing bundles of wood, branches of trees, and handfuls of resin, which they were piling up against the barricaded door.This he well knew meant fire, and the question arose how it was to be stopped.“They must never be allowed to light it, my lads, as our lives and those of the ladies would not be worth five minutes’ purchase. Cease firing on this side, and reserve your cartridges for any who come to fire the pile.”The men responded with a grim smile, and stood waiting for the party whose duty it would be to try and burn them out; and in this time of mortal peril, when danger of so great a kind stared them in the face, the men stood patiently awaiting their fate, seeming the while to repose the greatest confidence in their captain, and standing ready to obey his orders to the last.It was a splendid example of what discipline and confidence could effect. The men felt that if their lives were to be saved it would be through carefully carrying out the wishes of their officers, and hence no murmur was heard, each man’s face wearing a grim look of determination, that seemed to be intensified as Sergeant Lund came round laden with cartridges, a packet of which he handed to each in turn.“Some sergeants,” he said, as he finished his task and stood rifle in hand by the group whose duty it was to shoot down the bearers of the dammar-torches that they felt sure would be used, “some sergeants would, I dare say, be shaking hands with all their mates at a time like this, and looking at things as all over; but I don’t, my lads, for I’ve a sort of faith in our luck turning up shiny side outwards; so cheer up, all of you.”“All right, sergeant,” was the reply.“I wouldn’t trust too much to luck though, my lads,” he continued, “but I’d squint straight along the barrel of my rifle when I fired. You may be very sorry for the Malay chap you shoot at, but I’d shoot him first and be very sorry afterwards.”“Right, sergeant,” said Private Sim, who had been fighting very manfully all day; “they needn’t come and be a-trying to burn us out unless they like, need they?”“No, Sim,” replied the sergeant; “but they will, and it strikes me that they’ll be come before long, too. Isn’t that smoke in amongst those bushes there?”“Smoke it is,” said one of the men, excitedly.“Don’t jump about like that, my lad, but keep cool, or you’ll be wasting your cartridges,” said the sergeant. “Where’s the captain? He was here just now.”“Gone round the other side,” said Sim. “Here they come, sure enough. Look; there’s a dozen men with torches.”“All right, my lads,” said the sergeant. “I don’t see that it matters about the captain not being here; you know your duty.”“Yes, sergeant, to shoot down those men.”“No, no, my lads; what you’ve got to do is to put those torches out, and the way to do it is with the bayonet. Stand ready there to slip over the breast-work, all of you, then a sharp run, and meet them as they come, and then back again under cover.”As he spoke the smoke of the dammar-torches could be seen, and some ten or twelve Malays came running across from the earth-works to set fire to the pile.There was not a man behind the breast-work whose breath did not come thick and fast at the sight of the lights; for brave as they were, they knew that once the building they defended caught fire, the dry, sun-baked wood must flare away like so much paper; and there were women shut in there with them, whom it was their duty to defend.It was no wonder then that the men tightly grasped their bayonet-armed rifles, and stood waiting for the command, that did not come. For just as it was upon the sergeant’s lips a panting noise was heard, and as every eye was directed up the river, the masts of the steamer were seen coming along above the trees, and for the present the little garrison felt that they were saved.
Matters seemed to grow worse from the moment that Adam Gray started off on his mission to the steamer, and Captain Smithers’ brows seemed to have settled into a constant frown, for it was no light matter to be in command of the little fort, right away from aid, and only with a limited supply of provisions. They might be made to last weeks or months; but the end must come, and he saw no chance of help from outside, unless the steamer went off to the nearest station in search thereof.
Then there was the constant worry upon his brain about the expedition and its fate, for there could be no doubt about Ali’s news; the force had been divided by cunning, and with such treacherous enemies he felt but little hope of seeing any of the party again.
Fortunately for him and the sharers of his imprisonment—for it was little else—their minds were too much occupied by the defence of the place to give them time to sit and brood over their troubles. There was always something to do, some weak part to strengthen; and Captain Smithers longed for the help of the lieutenant with the steamer to guard outside of the fort.
There was this to consider too—if Lieutenant Johnson could get the “Startler” off the mud, and round to the other side by Dullah’s hut and the landing-place, if they were very hard pressed the fort could be abandoned, and, with the women, they could take refuge on board. Or better still—though he felt reluctant to make such an arrangement—the women could be got on board, and then the fort could be defended to the last extremity.
In the course of those next hours while awaiting Gray’s return, the Malays made two or three sharp attacks, all of which were repelled; and then, unable to assist, they waited, and listened to the engagement going on upon the other side of the patch of jungle that clothed a part of the island. The heavy reports of the steamer’s guns made the frames of the lightly-built dwellings rattle, and the smoke could be seen rising above the trees; but how the tide of war set it was impossible to tell, and Captain Smithers, as he walked up and down, felt as if he would have given anything for a trusty native spy who would have sought out news of what was going on.
Failing this, and not daring to send out a second party, although Tom Long volunteered to go, there was nothing for it but to wait, especially as their besiegers had evidently been greatly augmented in numbers, and one of the soldiers had but to show himself for a moment to bring upon himself a shower of bullets.
The suspense grew maddening, as the noise of the engagement between the prahus and the “Startler” increased. The yells of the Malays could be plainly heard; then the reports of the heavy guns ceased; there was a little rifle firing, the occasional crack of a revolver; and lastly came the faintly-heard noise of men contending in deadly strife.
This lasted for a while, and the occupants of the fort mentally pictured the scene going on, but they could not comprehend the strange shrieking they heard as of men in terrible pain.
Captain Smithers’ heart sank, and he glanced at Tom Long, in whose countenance he read a confirmation of his fears; and on looking farther he saw Mrs Major Sandars, with Rachel Linton and her cousin, watching him attentively.
They read his face too as he turned away, and their dread also seemed confirmed.
That ominous silence of the steamer’s guns pointed to the fact that she had been boarded by the Malays in too strong parties to be successfully resisted, and a deep gloom sank upon all within the fort.
There was not a man present who would not willingly have gone to the help of those on board the steamer; but not only were they hemmed-in, but had they made a successful sally they had no means of reaching her.
Nothing could be done then but wait, in the hope that some on board would escape and join them; and to this end a constant watch for fugitives was kept up, a dozen men standing ready at the gate to rush out and bring any stragglers in.
Just when they had descended to the greatest depths of misery, and Tom Long was debating with himself as to whether he ought not to go to Miss Linton and try to comfort her, telling her that so long as his arm could wield a sword she might reckon herself to be perfectly safe, there was a peculiar crashing sound, with a fresh burst of yells and cries.
The ladies shuddered, and longed to go in and be alone, but their excitement was such that they felt obliged to stay out there in the opening, risking many bullets, so as to be face to face with the worst.
Something terrible had happened they all knew, and at last the suspense was so great that in the presence of the ladies Captain Smithers exclaimed,—“Long, you will have to take a dozen men and learn the worst!”
Tom Long glanced at Miss Linton, and for answer tightened his sword belt, and then examined the chambers of his revolver.
“I’m ready, sir,” he said, and he set his teeth, for he felt that he should not come back alive. Still he was a soldier, and he accepted his duty without flinching, though it did need an effort to be calm.
Just then, as he was about to ask what men he should choose, all ears being attentive to catch the faintest sound from beyond the trees—Boom—crash! went a big gun report and the blow it struck, coming almost simultaneously; and as in his excitement Tom Long sent his cap high in air, there was another echoing report, with a familiar beating and panting sound.
“The steamer’s off!” Tom Long cried. “Hurrah!”
Discipline was forgotten for the moment, and every man shouted with delight, his cheery “Hurrah!” the cheers being renewed directly after by the following reports of the steamer’s guns; and they knew by the beat of the engines that she was going up stream, firing as she went, evidently in pursuit of a prahu.
They had plenty of evidence directly after that the Malays had been beaten, for hurrying parties kept coming from the far side of the island where the engagement had taken place, and as Captain Smithers scanned these with his glass, he could see that their slight garments were soaking wet, baju and sarong clinging to their limbs, and showing that they had had to swim ashore.
This was all proof of their having had a thorough beating; and now, with the steamer no longer aground, but ready to come to their help, the spirits of all rose at as rapid a rate as they had gone down.
But it was to be no time of rest for them. Captain Smithers, to meet the difficulty of there being no water to be obtained, save by going under fire to the spring, or making a dash for the river, had been giving orders for the sinking of a well in a corner of the fort, when word was passed from sentry to sentry of the advance of the enemy. Then shots were fired, at first scattered, then rapidly; and it was at once evident, that in revenge for their defeat afloat, the crews of some of the prahus had joined those on the island in a general attack.
The earth-works were well-made, but they required more men to successfully defend them, and after keeping the enemy at bay by a well-directed fire for some time, Captain Smithers, seeing signs of an approaching rush, and knowing well that this must result in severe loss upon his own side, quietly began to draw his little force away from the earth-works, till he had half in the barracks at the loopholes, from which they began a steady fire over the heads of those at the earthen wall, who, in their turn retired half at a time, the first half joining those who had gone before.
Then as the Malays began to realise that the force at the earthen wall was very weak, and showed signs of coming on to carry it by storm, the defenders delivered a sharp volley and dropped out of sight, stooping down and running across to the barracks’ white walls. On seeing that they had given way, the Malays set up a loud cry of triumph, and dashed forward, spear in hand, to occupy the deserted earth-works. They were met by a sharp fire from the barracks, which staggered them for the moment, but they rushed on, and sheltered themselves in the ditch, throwing a few spears at the hindmost of the retreating party; but without effect, for the little garrison was soon shut in and able for the time to defy their assailants.
It was evident, however, that they were not to be left in peace, for the Malays now swarmed around them, and dozens might have been shot down; but Captain Smithers gave orders that the fire should be reserved till they attacked.
Just as they had finished the barricading of the entrance, a cloud of smoke was seen rising from the side of the residency, and this was followed by flames, leaving no doubt that the pleasant little house had been fired by the Malays; and Captain Smithers frowned as he determined to administer severe punishment to the enemy, if for this act alone.
Every opportunity was given him for the administration of the chastisement, the Malays exposing themselves freely, running out of shelter to fire, and then retreating again. Sometimes a fierce demonstration was made by spear-armed men, who came boldly up as if to attack, but soon fell back unmolested, for Captain Smithers felt that no end was to be obtained by simply shooting down a few of the enemy, and his orders were to reserve fire till a fiercer attack was made.
This was not long in coming, and it was made quite unexpectedly, just as, wearied out by his efforts, Captain Smithers had left Tom Long in command, and, yielding to the prayers of the major’s wife, had gone in to the mess-room to partake of some refreshment that had been prepared.
He had hardly eaten a mouthful—after visiting first the wounded men, to find them being tended by Rachel Linton and her cousin—before the rattle of musketry and the yelling of the Malays told him that something serious had occurred.
Catching up his sword, he rushed to where he had left Tom Long, and in a few words he learned that from two points the Malays had suddenly commenced their attack, which was now being carried on in so fierce a manner that unless they received a sufficiently severe check to quell their courage, they would force the defences, and overpower the little garrison by sheer weight of numbers.
Fortunate it was that the defences had been so well strengthened, the men firing from behind barricades roughly constructed of tables, the mess forms, and bedding; but in spite of the heavy fire kept up and the number that fell, the Malays dashed up, striving to clamber over, and thrusting their spears through the openings in a way that kept the men back, and nearly crushed the fire that had sputtered from the various loopholes that had been left.
Affairs were growing very serious, for Captain Smithers, who had been going from place to place, advising, cheering, and helping the men, suddenly had his attention drawn to the fact that a large party of Malays were bringing bundles of wood, branches of trees, and handfuls of resin, which they were piling up against the barricaded door.
This he well knew meant fire, and the question arose how it was to be stopped.
“They must never be allowed to light it, my lads, as our lives and those of the ladies would not be worth five minutes’ purchase. Cease firing on this side, and reserve your cartridges for any who come to fire the pile.”
The men responded with a grim smile, and stood waiting for the party whose duty it would be to try and burn them out; and in this time of mortal peril, when danger of so great a kind stared them in the face, the men stood patiently awaiting their fate, seeming the while to repose the greatest confidence in their captain, and standing ready to obey his orders to the last.
It was a splendid example of what discipline and confidence could effect. The men felt that if their lives were to be saved it would be through carefully carrying out the wishes of their officers, and hence no murmur was heard, each man’s face wearing a grim look of determination, that seemed to be intensified as Sergeant Lund came round laden with cartridges, a packet of which he handed to each in turn.
“Some sergeants,” he said, as he finished his task and stood rifle in hand by the group whose duty it was to shoot down the bearers of the dammar-torches that they felt sure would be used, “some sergeants would, I dare say, be shaking hands with all their mates at a time like this, and looking at things as all over; but I don’t, my lads, for I’ve a sort of faith in our luck turning up shiny side outwards; so cheer up, all of you.”
“All right, sergeant,” was the reply.
“I wouldn’t trust too much to luck though, my lads,” he continued, “but I’d squint straight along the barrel of my rifle when I fired. You may be very sorry for the Malay chap you shoot at, but I’d shoot him first and be very sorry afterwards.”
“Right, sergeant,” said Private Sim, who had been fighting very manfully all day; “they needn’t come and be a-trying to burn us out unless they like, need they?”
“No, Sim,” replied the sergeant; “but they will, and it strikes me that they’ll be come before long, too. Isn’t that smoke in amongst those bushes there?”
“Smoke it is,” said one of the men, excitedly.
“Don’t jump about like that, my lad, but keep cool, or you’ll be wasting your cartridges,” said the sergeant. “Where’s the captain? He was here just now.”
“Gone round the other side,” said Sim. “Here they come, sure enough. Look; there’s a dozen men with torches.”
“All right, my lads,” said the sergeant. “I don’t see that it matters about the captain not being here; you know your duty.”
“Yes, sergeant, to shoot down those men.”
“No, no, my lads; what you’ve got to do is to put those torches out, and the way to do it is with the bayonet. Stand ready there to slip over the breast-work, all of you, then a sharp run, and meet them as they come, and then back again under cover.”
As he spoke the smoke of the dammar-torches could be seen, and some ten or twelve Malays came running across from the earth-works to set fire to the pile.
There was not a man behind the breast-work whose breath did not come thick and fast at the sight of the lights; for brave as they were, they knew that once the building they defended caught fire, the dry, sun-baked wood must flare away like so much paper; and there were women shut in there with them, whom it was their duty to defend.
It was no wonder then that the men tightly grasped their bayonet-armed rifles, and stood waiting for the command, that did not come. For just as it was upon the sergeant’s lips a panting noise was heard, and as every eye was directed up the river, the masts of the steamer were seen coming along above the trees, and for the present the little garrison felt that they were saved.
Chapter Forty Nine.How Ali went to spy out the Land.A tremor of excitement seemed to run through the attacking party; men hurried here and there; the bearers of the dammar-torches paused irresolute, and it was evident to the besieged that contrary orders were being given.It was also evident to them that the danger signal they were flying was plainly understood upon the steamer, for the noise of the engine had not been heard a minute before there was the heavy report of one of the guns, and almost simultaneously the crash of a shell, which burst over the heads of the thronging Malays, about fifty yards in front of the fort.No one seemed to be injured, but this dire instrument of warfare caused a complete scare amidst the attacking party: men running in all directions, and then seeming to go over the same ground once again, as a second shell burst with its harsh tearing metallic-sounding crack.Again came the report of a gun, and the shell burst where the Malays were thickest, sending them scurrying like wild rabbits to the nearest cover, while the steamer now glided slowly down, closer and closer in shore, till at last she covered the river-face of the fort like an outwork, and a cheer rose from the little garrison, and was answered from the “Startler” as the forces, so to speak, combined, ready to act together for their mutual defence.As the steamer was rapidly moored in her new position, men being sent ashore with cables from head and stern to make fast to the great trees a few yards from the bank, a rush at them was made by the Malays, but a few well-directed shots from the marines’ rifles were sufficient to keep them at bay till the task was done; and the little garrison now joined hands with the steamer’s crew in clearing the space between them.The first step taken by Captain Smithers was to regain possession of the outworks—the portion he had given up from being so short of defenders.This was accomplished without bloodshed; for upon the Malays gathering in force to withstand his efforts, they were scattered by a shell from the steamer, which cleared the way at once. This being done, and a meeting effected full of hearty congratulations, both soldiers and sailors set to work, armed with spades, to throw up a trench from the outworks of the fort to the river, the ditch being so arranged that it took in for safety the trees to which the steamer was moored, and this latter now became as it were the river-face of the fort.Night had fallen long before the work was left, and this rendered it necessary for a retreat to fort and steamer for the hours intervening till daybreak, when, no interruption having occurred, the digging was resumed, every man toiling with his rifle at his side till the task was done.The next question was whether it would not be safer for all to take possession of the steamer, even though the extra defences had been made.Lieutenant Johnson argued that this would be the better plan, as then they could at any time effect a retreat down the river, and make for Singapore or Penang.But Captain Smithers refused to listen to this proposal.“No,” he said, “it was quite open to the ladies to take up their abode on board, and probably they would be more secure there than on shore; but so far,” he said, “all was surmise about the expeditionary party. For all they knew, Captain Horton, Major Sandars, and their men, might have met with the best of treatment, and at the end of a few days they might return, to find the station abandoned by those left in charge.”“I only hope they may,” said the lieutenant. “For my part, I feel certain that the whole of the people hereabouts are under the influence of the rajah, sultan included. But I will not oppose you, Captain Smithers, until matters come to such an extremity that it seems to me that we are uselessly risking life, then I must insist on an evacuation of the fort.”“I will not oppose you then,” said Captain Smithers; “but you see that now it is as if I asked you to resign your ship.”Lieutenant Johnson nodded; and it having been resolved to hold out to the last, hoping the while that the expedition might return, the next proceeding seemed to be that of sending out a trustworthy spy or two into the country and amongst the people.Both Bob Roberts and Tom Long were present at what the latter had importantly called the council of war, but nothing definite was decided upon; and, soon after, the two friends were sitting beneath the shade of one of the trees, the Malays having withdrawn to a distance, and hostilities being for the present suspended.“I think,” said Tom Long, importantly, “that the ladies are quite right in declining to leave the fort. They are much safer there.”Bob Roberts laughed, gazed in his companion’s face, and laughed again heartily; to the very great disgust of Tom Long.“Yes,” he said, gruffly, “I dare say it is very funny, and anybody can laugh like a buffoon about such an arrangement; but how are they going to be safe on board a vessel whose officers cannot keep her from running aground.”“Well that’s a facer, certainly,” said Bob, rather warmly; “but if you come to that, where would you have been if we hadn’t come to your help—burnt out by this time, with your precious fort.”“Bob Roberts,” said Tom Long, solemnly, “or rather I suppose I ought to sayMrRoberts—you are about the most quarrelsome fellow I ever met.”“You couldn’t meet yourself,” said Bob, “or you would run against one ten times as quarrelsome.”“If you want to fall out,” said the ensign, “you might do it in a gentlemanly way.”“If you want me to punch your head, Tom Long, just say so,” cried Bob, hotly.“I repeat my words,” said Tom Long, with hauteur. “If you wish to quarrel, sir, you might do it in a gentlemanly manner.”“Gentlemanly be hanged!” cried Bob. “There’s nothing gentlemanly in quarrelling or fighting.”“And refer the matter to friends,” continued the young military officer.Bob’s face was red as that of a turkey-cock the moment before, but at these words the anger seemed to pass away like a cloud from before the sun, and he burst into a hearty fit of laughter.“Oh!” he said, “that’s what you mean is it? Swords, or pistols, and seconds, early in the morning, with a doctor on the ground. Oh, I say, Tom Long, this is too delicious.”“Sir!” exclaimed Tom Long.“I say it’s too delicious. Duelling be hanged; it’s fools’ work; and I’m not quite fool enough to let a friend make a hole, or try to make a hole, in my precious carcase.”“Sir, none but a coward would speak as you are speaking,” cried Tom Long, indignantly.“Oh, wouldn’t he?” said Bob. “Well, then, I suppose I’m a coward, for hang me if we don’t get running risks enough from these coffee-coloured fellows, without trying it on among ourselves.”“I thought you more of a gentleman,” said Tom Long, contemptuously.“Oh, you did, did you?” said Bob; “and I’m a coward, am I? Well, look here, my lad, it’s too hot now, but if you like to come on board to-night, or to-morrow morning, and take off your jacket like a man, I’ll have it out with you in the gun-room, and old Dick to see fair, and you can bring Private Gray or Sergeant Lund.”“What do you mean?” said Tom Long, haughtily; “swords or pistols, sir?”“Do I mean swords or pistols, sir?” said Bob, imitating the other’s pompous way; “no, sir, I don’t mean either. I reserve those lethal weapons, sir, for Her Majesty’s enemies, sir, as an officer and a gentleman should; and when I fall out with a friend, I punch his head with my fist—like a man.”“Like a man!” said Tom Long, in tones of disgust; “like a schoolboy or a blackguard.”“No, sir,” said Bob, still mimicking his companion; “the schoolboy or man who uses his fists is to my mind not half such a blackguard as thegentlemanwho tries to kill a fellow in cold blood, and calls it on account of his honour.”“The old contemptible argument,” said Tom Long, sneering. “No one but a coward would take refuge behind such excuses.”“Then I’m a coward!” said Bob, cocking his heels up on a chair, and sticking his hands in his pockets. “All right: I’m a coward; and as we used to say at school, ‘give me the coward’s blow,’ and if you do, Tom Long, you see if I don’t punch your head.”Tom Long rose, and came at him menacingly, and Bob laughed in his face. “I say, Long, old man,” he said, “what a jolly pair of fools we are to quarrel about nothing at all.”“I never want to quarrel,” said Tom Long, stiffly, for the other’s mirth took him aback, “but when a fellow behaves like a coward—”“In the face of the enemy,” interposed Bob, “kick him out of the service, military or naval, eh? Look here, Tommy.”“For goodness’ sake, sir, don’t call me by that objectionably childish name,” cried the ensign. “How should you like to be called Bobby?”“Not much, old boy,” said the middy; “but I don’t much care. Never mind, shake hands. No, don’t. Let’s do it mentally. Here’s old Ali coming, looking as black as a civilian’s hat. Hallo, Ali, old chap, ain’t you precious proud of your dear fellow-countrymen?”“Poor fellows; poor fellows!” said Ali, sadly, as he looked from one to the other.“Poor fellows!” said Long.“They’re a jolly set of sharks, with stings in their tails, that’s what they are,” said Bob.“The poor fellows have been crushed down by cruel governments, and made the slaves of piratical rajahs and cowardly sultans,” cried Ali, indignantly. “They are a brave set of fellows, and they are only fighting against you because they are set on by their leaders.”“Then all I can say is,” said Bob, “that I should like to have a pop at their leaders. But cheer up, old chap, you needn’t look so down-hearted.”“Not look down-hearted,” cried Ali, passionately, “how can I look otherwise? Where is my father? Where are our friends? What is my position here? Do you think it gives me pleasure to see the poor brave men who are fighting against you shot down by your guns? It makes me wretched.”“Well, never mind,” cried Bob, kindly, as he rose and clapped the young chief on the shoulder. “It will all come right in the end.”“I hope so,” said Ali; “but tell me, what have you decided to do?”“Well, that’s announcing the secrets of the council of war,” said Bob. “Shall I tell him, Long?”“Oh, yes, we can trust him,” replied the ensign. “We are going to stay and fight it out.”“Of course, of course,” said Ali, nodding. “You could not give up. You must not give up.”“But we want to get some news of the expedition party by sending a trustworthy spy,” said Bob. “Can you get us a man whom you can trust?”Ali stood thinking for a few moments, and then shook his head sadly.“They would all say the risk is too great. They would lose their lives if discovered.”“Then what is to be done?” cried Bob.Ali stood thinking for a few moments in silence, and then he looked frankly from one to the other.“I will go myself,” he said.The two young men stared at him.“You?” they exclaimed in one breath. “Why, just now you said the risk was too great.”“That the men would lose their lives!” cried Bob Roberts.“If they were discovered!” exclaimed Tom Long.“Yes,” said Ali, quietly, and he smiled back in their astonished faces.“And yet you would run that risk?” said Bob Roberts.“Yes: why not?”“But for us?”“Is one’s life to be devoted to oneself?” said Ali calmly. “I am not as you are. You are Christians. I am a follower of the prophet. We call you dogs and giaours. You look upon us with contempt. But men are but men the whole world over, and it seems to me that one’s life cannot be better spent than in trying to do good to one’s friends.”“But,” said Tom Long, “you would be fighting against your friends, the Malays.”“No,” said Ali, mournfully. “I should be fighting for them in doing anything that would free them from the rule of idle sensualists and pirates.”“I tell you what,” cried Bob Roberts, enthusiastically, “we’ll whop old Hamet and Rajah Gantang out of their skins, and you shall be sultan instead, or your father first and you afterwards.”Ali’s eyes flashed as he turned them upon the speaker.“You could be chief banjo, you know,” said Bob.“Chief—banjo?” said Ali, wonderingly.“No, no; I mean gong—Tumongong,” cried Bob.“Oh, yes,” said Ali, smiling. “But no, no: that is a dream. Let us be serious. One of your people could not go, it would be impossible; but I am a Malay, and if I dress myself as a common man—a slave—I could follow where the hunting-party went, and find out all you want to know.”“No, no,” cried Bob, earnestly, “I should not like that.”“Like what, Mr Roberts?” said a voice that made them start; and turning sharply, they saw Captain Smithers standing by them, with Lieutenant Johnson.“Mr Ali here wants to dress up as a common Malay, sir, and go as a spy to get news of the hunting-party.”“It would be excellent,” cried the lieutenant. “Mr Ali, you would confer a lasting favour upon us.”“But have you thought of the risk?” said Captain Smithers.“I have thought of everything,” said the young man, quietly.They all sat down together under the shade of the great tree where they were, and the matter was talked over, it being decided that from time to time Ali was to send messengers with news of his progress, if he could find any trustworthy enough; and all being arranged, he left them, to make preparations for his departure, shaking hands warmly with all, and then going towards the barracks, but only to return directly.“As you may suppose,” he said, “my success depends upon my not being apparently known to you; so if a strange Malay is seen leaving your lines, don’t let him be fired at.”“Of course not: I see,” exclaimed Captain Smithers. “But shall we see you again?”“Not to speak to,” replied Ali, smiling; and as soon as he had gone, Captain Smithers walked across the ground to give orders about a strange Malay being allowed to leave.Lieutenant Johnson returned on board the steamer with Bob Roberts; and Tom Long, after seating himself comfortably in one chair with his legs in another, went off fast asleep.Half an hour after, when all was very still in the burning heat of the sun, when not a breath of air rippled the river or rustled through the trees; when Englishman and Malay were resting, and the very sentries had hard work to keep from going to sleep at their posts, there was a soft rustling noise in the tree beneath which Tom Long was sleeping; and after this had been repeated several times a lithe Malay softly descended till he was within six or eight feet of the ground, when he slipped and fell, but regained his feet instantly, as Tom Long started into wakefulness and clapped his hand to his sword, upon seeing the strange Malay just before him.The Malay, however, raised one hand deprecatingly, and smiled a very significant smile as he turned to go.“Here, stop! surrender! Why—Oh! I say, Ali; that’s capital,” he said, as the Malay still smiled at him. “You quite took me in.”The Malay smiled and nodded, and walked straight off to where a sentry was watching them both; and the man, seeing the Malay come straight from his officer, made way, saluted, and the dark figure passed from the fortified lines and walked away towards where the enemy lay amongst the trees.“That’s a brave thing to do,” muttered Tom Long, and resuming his seat he took another sleep, and was awakened the next time by Captain Smithers laying his hand upon his shoulder.“Ali has gone,” he said.“Yes, I know,” said Tom Long. “He quite took me in. It was a splendid disguise.”“Capital!” said Captain Smithers. “The very sentries were puzzled.”“Yes, of course they would be,” replied Tom Long; and the captain walked away.“The sentries must have been puzzled before he came to me,” said Tom Long to himself. “That man yonder, though, seemed to take it as a matter of course. I shall be very glad, though, when all this hiding and dodging is over, and the hunting-party are back, for I am not going to believe that they are in danger after all.”And yet Tom Long did believe it, and was as uneasy as the rest; but it was his way of trying to put a good face upon matters.
A tremor of excitement seemed to run through the attacking party; men hurried here and there; the bearers of the dammar-torches paused irresolute, and it was evident to the besieged that contrary orders were being given.
It was also evident to them that the danger signal they were flying was plainly understood upon the steamer, for the noise of the engine had not been heard a minute before there was the heavy report of one of the guns, and almost simultaneously the crash of a shell, which burst over the heads of the thronging Malays, about fifty yards in front of the fort.
No one seemed to be injured, but this dire instrument of warfare caused a complete scare amidst the attacking party: men running in all directions, and then seeming to go over the same ground once again, as a second shell burst with its harsh tearing metallic-sounding crack.
Again came the report of a gun, and the shell burst where the Malays were thickest, sending them scurrying like wild rabbits to the nearest cover, while the steamer now glided slowly down, closer and closer in shore, till at last she covered the river-face of the fort like an outwork, and a cheer rose from the little garrison, and was answered from the “Startler” as the forces, so to speak, combined, ready to act together for their mutual defence.
As the steamer was rapidly moored in her new position, men being sent ashore with cables from head and stern to make fast to the great trees a few yards from the bank, a rush at them was made by the Malays, but a few well-directed shots from the marines’ rifles were sufficient to keep them at bay till the task was done; and the little garrison now joined hands with the steamer’s crew in clearing the space between them.
The first step taken by Captain Smithers was to regain possession of the outworks—the portion he had given up from being so short of defenders.
This was accomplished without bloodshed; for upon the Malays gathering in force to withstand his efforts, they were scattered by a shell from the steamer, which cleared the way at once. This being done, and a meeting effected full of hearty congratulations, both soldiers and sailors set to work, armed with spades, to throw up a trench from the outworks of the fort to the river, the ditch being so arranged that it took in for safety the trees to which the steamer was moored, and this latter now became as it were the river-face of the fort.
Night had fallen long before the work was left, and this rendered it necessary for a retreat to fort and steamer for the hours intervening till daybreak, when, no interruption having occurred, the digging was resumed, every man toiling with his rifle at his side till the task was done.
The next question was whether it would not be safer for all to take possession of the steamer, even though the extra defences had been made.
Lieutenant Johnson argued that this would be the better plan, as then they could at any time effect a retreat down the river, and make for Singapore or Penang.
But Captain Smithers refused to listen to this proposal.
“No,” he said, “it was quite open to the ladies to take up their abode on board, and probably they would be more secure there than on shore; but so far,” he said, “all was surmise about the expeditionary party. For all they knew, Captain Horton, Major Sandars, and their men, might have met with the best of treatment, and at the end of a few days they might return, to find the station abandoned by those left in charge.”
“I only hope they may,” said the lieutenant. “For my part, I feel certain that the whole of the people hereabouts are under the influence of the rajah, sultan included. But I will not oppose you, Captain Smithers, until matters come to such an extremity that it seems to me that we are uselessly risking life, then I must insist on an evacuation of the fort.”
“I will not oppose you then,” said Captain Smithers; “but you see that now it is as if I asked you to resign your ship.”
Lieutenant Johnson nodded; and it having been resolved to hold out to the last, hoping the while that the expedition might return, the next proceeding seemed to be that of sending out a trustworthy spy or two into the country and amongst the people.
Both Bob Roberts and Tom Long were present at what the latter had importantly called the council of war, but nothing definite was decided upon; and, soon after, the two friends were sitting beneath the shade of one of the trees, the Malays having withdrawn to a distance, and hostilities being for the present suspended.
“I think,” said Tom Long, importantly, “that the ladies are quite right in declining to leave the fort. They are much safer there.”
Bob Roberts laughed, gazed in his companion’s face, and laughed again heartily; to the very great disgust of Tom Long.
“Yes,” he said, gruffly, “I dare say it is very funny, and anybody can laugh like a buffoon about such an arrangement; but how are they going to be safe on board a vessel whose officers cannot keep her from running aground.”
“Well that’s a facer, certainly,” said Bob, rather warmly; “but if you come to that, where would you have been if we hadn’t come to your help—burnt out by this time, with your precious fort.”
“Bob Roberts,” said Tom Long, solemnly, “or rather I suppose I ought to sayMrRoberts—you are about the most quarrelsome fellow I ever met.”
“You couldn’t meet yourself,” said Bob, “or you would run against one ten times as quarrelsome.”
“If you want to fall out,” said the ensign, “you might do it in a gentlemanly way.”
“If you want me to punch your head, Tom Long, just say so,” cried Bob, hotly.
“I repeat my words,” said Tom Long, with hauteur. “If you wish to quarrel, sir, you might do it in a gentlemanly manner.”
“Gentlemanly be hanged!” cried Bob. “There’s nothing gentlemanly in quarrelling or fighting.”
“And refer the matter to friends,” continued the young military officer.
Bob’s face was red as that of a turkey-cock the moment before, but at these words the anger seemed to pass away like a cloud from before the sun, and he burst into a hearty fit of laughter.
“Oh!” he said, “that’s what you mean is it? Swords, or pistols, and seconds, early in the morning, with a doctor on the ground. Oh, I say, Tom Long, this is too delicious.”
“Sir!” exclaimed Tom Long.
“I say it’s too delicious. Duelling be hanged; it’s fools’ work; and I’m not quite fool enough to let a friend make a hole, or try to make a hole, in my precious carcase.”
“Sir, none but a coward would speak as you are speaking,” cried Tom Long, indignantly.
“Oh, wouldn’t he?” said Bob. “Well, then, I suppose I’m a coward, for hang me if we don’t get running risks enough from these coffee-coloured fellows, without trying it on among ourselves.”
“I thought you more of a gentleman,” said Tom Long, contemptuously.
“Oh, you did, did you?” said Bob; “and I’m a coward, am I? Well, look here, my lad, it’s too hot now, but if you like to come on board to-night, or to-morrow morning, and take off your jacket like a man, I’ll have it out with you in the gun-room, and old Dick to see fair, and you can bring Private Gray or Sergeant Lund.”
“What do you mean?” said Tom Long, haughtily; “swords or pistols, sir?”
“Do I mean swords or pistols, sir?” said Bob, imitating the other’s pompous way; “no, sir, I don’t mean either. I reserve those lethal weapons, sir, for Her Majesty’s enemies, sir, as an officer and a gentleman should; and when I fall out with a friend, I punch his head with my fist—like a man.”
“Like a man!” said Tom Long, in tones of disgust; “like a schoolboy or a blackguard.”
“No, sir,” said Bob, still mimicking his companion; “the schoolboy or man who uses his fists is to my mind not half such a blackguard as thegentlemanwho tries to kill a fellow in cold blood, and calls it on account of his honour.”
“The old contemptible argument,” said Tom Long, sneering. “No one but a coward would take refuge behind such excuses.”
“Then I’m a coward!” said Bob, cocking his heels up on a chair, and sticking his hands in his pockets. “All right: I’m a coward; and as we used to say at school, ‘give me the coward’s blow,’ and if you do, Tom Long, you see if I don’t punch your head.”
Tom Long rose, and came at him menacingly, and Bob laughed in his face. “I say, Long, old man,” he said, “what a jolly pair of fools we are to quarrel about nothing at all.”
“I never want to quarrel,” said Tom Long, stiffly, for the other’s mirth took him aback, “but when a fellow behaves like a coward—”
“In the face of the enemy,” interposed Bob, “kick him out of the service, military or naval, eh? Look here, Tommy.”
“For goodness’ sake, sir, don’t call me by that objectionably childish name,” cried the ensign. “How should you like to be called Bobby?”
“Not much, old boy,” said the middy; “but I don’t much care. Never mind, shake hands. No, don’t. Let’s do it mentally. Here’s old Ali coming, looking as black as a civilian’s hat. Hallo, Ali, old chap, ain’t you precious proud of your dear fellow-countrymen?”
“Poor fellows; poor fellows!” said Ali, sadly, as he looked from one to the other.
“Poor fellows!” said Long.
“They’re a jolly set of sharks, with stings in their tails, that’s what they are,” said Bob.
“The poor fellows have been crushed down by cruel governments, and made the slaves of piratical rajahs and cowardly sultans,” cried Ali, indignantly. “They are a brave set of fellows, and they are only fighting against you because they are set on by their leaders.”
“Then all I can say is,” said Bob, “that I should like to have a pop at their leaders. But cheer up, old chap, you needn’t look so down-hearted.”
“Not look down-hearted,” cried Ali, passionately, “how can I look otherwise? Where is my father? Where are our friends? What is my position here? Do you think it gives me pleasure to see the poor brave men who are fighting against you shot down by your guns? It makes me wretched.”
“Well, never mind,” cried Bob, kindly, as he rose and clapped the young chief on the shoulder. “It will all come right in the end.”
“I hope so,” said Ali; “but tell me, what have you decided to do?”
“Well, that’s announcing the secrets of the council of war,” said Bob. “Shall I tell him, Long?”
“Oh, yes, we can trust him,” replied the ensign. “We are going to stay and fight it out.”
“Of course, of course,” said Ali, nodding. “You could not give up. You must not give up.”
“But we want to get some news of the expedition party by sending a trustworthy spy,” said Bob. “Can you get us a man whom you can trust?”
Ali stood thinking for a few moments, and then shook his head sadly.
“They would all say the risk is too great. They would lose their lives if discovered.”
“Then what is to be done?” cried Bob.
Ali stood thinking for a few moments in silence, and then he looked frankly from one to the other.
“I will go myself,” he said.
The two young men stared at him.
“You?” they exclaimed in one breath. “Why, just now you said the risk was too great.”
“That the men would lose their lives!” cried Bob Roberts.
“If they were discovered!” exclaimed Tom Long.
“Yes,” said Ali, quietly, and he smiled back in their astonished faces.
“And yet you would run that risk?” said Bob Roberts.
“Yes: why not?”
“But for us?”
“Is one’s life to be devoted to oneself?” said Ali calmly. “I am not as you are. You are Christians. I am a follower of the prophet. We call you dogs and giaours. You look upon us with contempt. But men are but men the whole world over, and it seems to me that one’s life cannot be better spent than in trying to do good to one’s friends.”
“But,” said Tom Long, “you would be fighting against your friends, the Malays.”
“No,” said Ali, mournfully. “I should be fighting for them in doing anything that would free them from the rule of idle sensualists and pirates.”
“I tell you what,” cried Bob Roberts, enthusiastically, “we’ll whop old Hamet and Rajah Gantang out of their skins, and you shall be sultan instead, or your father first and you afterwards.”
Ali’s eyes flashed as he turned them upon the speaker.
“You could be chief banjo, you know,” said Bob.
“Chief—banjo?” said Ali, wonderingly.
“No, no; I mean gong—Tumongong,” cried Bob.
“Oh, yes,” said Ali, smiling. “But no, no: that is a dream. Let us be serious. One of your people could not go, it would be impossible; but I am a Malay, and if I dress myself as a common man—a slave—I could follow where the hunting-party went, and find out all you want to know.”
“No, no,” cried Bob, earnestly, “I should not like that.”
“Like what, Mr Roberts?” said a voice that made them start; and turning sharply, they saw Captain Smithers standing by them, with Lieutenant Johnson.
“Mr Ali here wants to dress up as a common Malay, sir, and go as a spy to get news of the hunting-party.”
“It would be excellent,” cried the lieutenant. “Mr Ali, you would confer a lasting favour upon us.”
“But have you thought of the risk?” said Captain Smithers.
“I have thought of everything,” said the young man, quietly.
They all sat down together under the shade of the great tree where they were, and the matter was talked over, it being decided that from time to time Ali was to send messengers with news of his progress, if he could find any trustworthy enough; and all being arranged, he left them, to make preparations for his departure, shaking hands warmly with all, and then going towards the barracks, but only to return directly.
“As you may suppose,” he said, “my success depends upon my not being apparently known to you; so if a strange Malay is seen leaving your lines, don’t let him be fired at.”
“Of course not: I see,” exclaimed Captain Smithers. “But shall we see you again?”
“Not to speak to,” replied Ali, smiling; and as soon as he had gone, Captain Smithers walked across the ground to give orders about a strange Malay being allowed to leave.
Lieutenant Johnson returned on board the steamer with Bob Roberts; and Tom Long, after seating himself comfortably in one chair with his legs in another, went off fast asleep.
Half an hour after, when all was very still in the burning heat of the sun, when not a breath of air rippled the river or rustled through the trees; when Englishman and Malay were resting, and the very sentries had hard work to keep from going to sleep at their posts, there was a soft rustling noise in the tree beneath which Tom Long was sleeping; and after this had been repeated several times a lithe Malay softly descended till he was within six or eight feet of the ground, when he slipped and fell, but regained his feet instantly, as Tom Long started into wakefulness and clapped his hand to his sword, upon seeing the strange Malay just before him.
The Malay, however, raised one hand deprecatingly, and smiled a very significant smile as he turned to go.
“Here, stop! surrender! Why—Oh! I say, Ali; that’s capital,” he said, as the Malay still smiled at him. “You quite took me in.”
The Malay smiled and nodded, and walked straight off to where a sentry was watching them both; and the man, seeing the Malay come straight from his officer, made way, saluted, and the dark figure passed from the fortified lines and walked away towards where the enemy lay amongst the trees.
“That’s a brave thing to do,” muttered Tom Long, and resuming his seat he took another sleep, and was awakened the next time by Captain Smithers laying his hand upon his shoulder.
“Ali has gone,” he said.
“Yes, I know,” said Tom Long. “He quite took me in. It was a splendid disguise.”
“Capital!” said Captain Smithers. “The very sentries were puzzled.”
“Yes, of course they would be,” replied Tom Long; and the captain walked away.
“The sentries must have been puzzled before he came to me,” said Tom Long to himself. “That man yonder, though, seemed to take it as a matter of course. I shall be very glad, though, when all this hiding and dodging is over, and the hunting-party are back, for I am not going to believe that they are in danger after all.”
And yet Tom Long did believe it, and was as uneasy as the rest; but it was his way of trying to put a good face upon matters.
Chapter Fifty.How Bob fished for Miss Linton.To the surprise and gratification of the English party, the jungle-station remained unmolested for the next two days, giving them ample time to make such little additions to the defences as the officers thought needful. The coming of the steamer gave the occupants of the fort command of the water and a way of retreat in case of extremities; moreover, they had the chance of sharing the ship’s provisions. So that with the knowledge of their power of resistance a feeling of confidence began to exist, especially as it was evident that the Malays had been taught the danger of molesting the little party.The enemy came and went from the island in large numbers, but kept entirely aloof, making no attempt to communicate; while their strange silence excited suspicion in Captain Smithers’ mind that some plot was hatching.The lieutenant joined him in thinking that there was cause for suspicion, and more stringent watch was kept.Old Dick regretted keenly that for reasons of economy the furnace fires could not be kept up, for he argued still that plenty of hot water was all that was needed to keep them safe. He had, however, to be content with the ordinary precautions, promising himself the extraordinary as soon as the fires were lit.The ladies had full occupation in tending the wounded, an occupation which saved them from much thinking; for there were no tidings of the party, and now that so long a time had elapsed it became evident that their worst fears would be realised.In fact the officers began to debate whether the hour had not arrived when they ought to retreat; but the idea was set aside, and once more they determined to hold the station till help should come, since for the steamer to go in search of help was to condemn the little garrison of the fort to destruction.And now as the hours slowly crept by, with the heat and inaction growing more and more difficult to bear, every thought was directed to the envoy they had sent out, and they waited anxiously for Ali’s return, or for some messenger with tidings at his hands.Though the Malays refrained from attack so long as the occupants of the station kept within their lines, any attempt at quitting the fort at once drew fire. Consequently the supplies within had to suffice, and middy and ensign thought gloomily of the past, when sampans brought daily an abundance of delicious fruit, when flowers were abundant, and fish in plenty was supplied.Now it was bread or biscuit, and preserved meat either salt or tinned, and preserved vegetables, and so much soup that Bob Roberts said a man might just as well be living in a workhouse.That evening he made up his mind to try for some fish, and aided and abetted by Dick, a line was rigged up, and payed out over the steamer’s stern, the stream carrying down the baited hook, but only into a place where there was no likelihood of a fish being caught. So another line was attached, and another, and another—long sea-lines each of them, till Bob Roberts sat fishing with the end of a line in his hand and his bait about a quarter of a mile down the stream.To his great delight he found the plan to answer, for before long he felt a tug, and drew in a good-sized fish. This done, he rebaited, and tried again, sometimes catching, sometimes losing, a couple dropping off the hook just as they were raised up level with the deck.It was about an hour before sunset that Bob Roberts set Dick to work winding up the lines on the reels to dry, and then, having placed the brilliantly scaled fish in the basket, he obtained leave from the lieutenant, who looked longingly at the catch, and involuntarily made the noise with his lips customary with some people at the sight of anything nice.“What are you going to do with those, Roberts?” he said.“Take them to the ladies, sir.”“Ah! yes: of course, the ladies first. We ought to study the ladies. But do you know, Roberts, I’m not a ladies’ man, and I feel an intense desire to have one of those fish—broiled.”“Yes, sir, of course; but I’ll come back and catch some more.”“Yes, do,” said Lieutenant Johnson, gazing longingly at the fish. “There,” he cried hastily; “for goodness’ sake be off with them, Roberts, or I shall impound the lot and hand them over to the cook. You ought not to put such temptations in a weak man’s way.”“All right, sir,” said Bob, and he hurried over the side and made for the barracks, where, to his great delight, he met Rachel Linton, looking very pale and ill, coming away from the temporary hospital with her cousin.“I’ve brought you some fish, Miss Linton,” he said. “I thought they would be welcome just now, as there are no fresh provisions.”“Doubly welcome, Mr Roberts,” cried Miss Linton, with her face lighting up. “Oh! Mary, I am glad. Mr Roberts, I can never thank you enough.”Bob felt rather disgusted that the idol he had worshipped should be so fond of the good things of this life.“I have been longing for fresh fish, and fruit, and flowers, so, Mr Roberts,” she continued. “You cannot get me any fruit or flowers, I suppose?”“I could go and try for some,” said Bob, rather glumly, “but you mustn’t be surprised if I don’t come back.”“Oh, no, no; you must not run any risks,” cried Rachel Linton. “That would be madness, but I’d give anything for some fruit now.”“She’d better think about her father,” thought Bob, “instead of eating and drinking.”“Those poor wounded fellows do suffer so for want of change; but this fish will be delicious. Poor Parker will eat some, I know. If you can get any fruit for my hospital people, pray do so, Mr Roberts.”“That I will, Miss Linton,” he cried joyously.“And you’ll catch me some more fish for the poor fellows?”“Are you going to give all these to the wounded men, Miss Linton?” he said.“Yes; of course,” she replied.“Why she’s an angel,” thought Bob to himself, “and I was giving her the credit of being a regular pig.”“Messenger? For me?” exclaimed Captain Smithers, rising up as a soldier advanced.“Yes sir; it’s a Malay, and he says he has been sent by the young chief, Ali.”
To the surprise and gratification of the English party, the jungle-station remained unmolested for the next two days, giving them ample time to make such little additions to the defences as the officers thought needful. The coming of the steamer gave the occupants of the fort command of the water and a way of retreat in case of extremities; moreover, they had the chance of sharing the ship’s provisions. So that with the knowledge of their power of resistance a feeling of confidence began to exist, especially as it was evident that the Malays had been taught the danger of molesting the little party.
The enemy came and went from the island in large numbers, but kept entirely aloof, making no attempt to communicate; while their strange silence excited suspicion in Captain Smithers’ mind that some plot was hatching.
The lieutenant joined him in thinking that there was cause for suspicion, and more stringent watch was kept.
Old Dick regretted keenly that for reasons of economy the furnace fires could not be kept up, for he argued still that plenty of hot water was all that was needed to keep them safe. He had, however, to be content with the ordinary precautions, promising himself the extraordinary as soon as the fires were lit.
The ladies had full occupation in tending the wounded, an occupation which saved them from much thinking; for there were no tidings of the party, and now that so long a time had elapsed it became evident that their worst fears would be realised.
In fact the officers began to debate whether the hour had not arrived when they ought to retreat; but the idea was set aside, and once more they determined to hold the station till help should come, since for the steamer to go in search of help was to condemn the little garrison of the fort to destruction.
And now as the hours slowly crept by, with the heat and inaction growing more and more difficult to bear, every thought was directed to the envoy they had sent out, and they waited anxiously for Ali’s return, or for some messenger with tidings at his hands.
Though the Malays refrained from attack so long as the occupants of the station kept within their lines, any attempt at quitting the fort at once drew fire. Consequently the supplies within had to suffice, and middy and ensign thought gloomily of the past, when sampans brought daily an abundance of delicious fruit, when flowers were abundant, and fish in plenty was supplied.
Now it was bread or biscuit, and preserved meat either salt or tinned, and preserved vegetables, and so much soup that Bob Roberts said a man might just as well be living in a workhouse.
That evening he made up his mind to try for some fish, and aided and abetted by Dick, a line was rigged up, and payed out over the steamer’s stern, the stream carrying down the baited hook, but only into a place where there was no likelihood of a fish being caught. So another line was attached, and another, and another—long sea-lines each of them, till Bob Roberts sat fishing with the end of a line in his hand and his bait about a quarter of a mile down the stream.
To his great delight he found the plan to answer, for before long he felt a tug, and drew in a good-sized fish. This done, he rebaited, and tried again, sometimes catching, sometimes losing, a couple dropping off the hook just as they were raised up level with the deck.
It was about an hour before sunset that Bob Roberts set Dick to work winding up the lines on the reels to dry, and then, having placed the brilliantly scaled fish in the basket, he obtained leave from the lieutenant, who looked longingly at the catch, and involuntarily made the noise with his lips customary with some people at the sight of anything nice.
“What are you going to do with those, Roberts?” he said.
“Take them to the ladies, sir.”
“Ah! yes: of course, the ladies first. We ought to study the ladies. But do you know, Roberts, I’m not a ladies’ man, and I feel an intense desire to have one of those fish—broiled.”
“Yes, sir, of course; but I’ll come back and catch some more.”
“Yes, do,” said Lieutenant Johnson, gazing longingly at the fish. “There,” he cried hastily; “for goodness’ sake be off with them, Roberts, or I shall impound the lot and hand them over to the cook. You ought not to put such temptations in a weak man’s way.”
“All right, sir,” said Bob, and he hurried over the side and made for the barracks, where, to his great delight, he met Rachel Linton, looking very pale and ill, coming away from the temporary hospital with her cousin.
“I’ve brought you some fish, Miss Linton,” he said. “I thought they would be welcome just now, as there are no fresh provisions.”
“Doubly welcome, Mr Roberts,” cried Miss Linton, with her face lighting up. “Oh! Mary, I am glad. Mr Roberts, I can never thank you enough.”
Bob felt rather disgusted that the idol he had worshipped should be so fond of the good things of this life.
“I have been longing for fresh fish, and fruit, and flowers, so, Mr Roberts,” she continued. “You cannot get me any fruit or flowers, I suppose?”
“I could go and try for some,” said Bob, rather glumly, “but you mustn’t be surprised if I don’t come back.”
“Oh, no, no; you must not run any risks,” cried Rachel Linton. “That would be madness, but I’d give anything for some fruit now.”
“She’d better think about her father,” thought Bob, “instead of eating and drinking.”
“Those poor wounded fellows do suffer so for want of change; but this fish will be delicious. Poor Parker will eat some, I know. If you can get any fruit for my hospital people, pray do so, Mr Roberts.”
“That I will, Miss Linton,” he cried joyously.
“And you’ll catch me some more fish for the poor fellows?”
“Are you going to give all these to the wounded men, Miss Linton?” he said.
“Yes; of course,” she replied.
“Why she’s an angel,” thought Bob to himself, “and I was giving her the credit of being a regular pig.”
“Messenger? For me?” exclaimed Captain Smithers, rising up as a soldier advanced.
“Yes sir; it’s a Malay, and he says he has been sent by the young chief, Ali.”
Chapter Fifty One.Dealings with the Deep.There was no little excitement at this announcement, and Captain Smithers sent at once for Lieutenant Johnson from the steamer, while a file of soldiers went for the messenger who had asked for admission.The ladies were too much interested to think of leaving, so Mary Sinclair ran to fetch Mrs Major Sandars, and returned with her to see that a rough-looking Malay had been brought up to the group she had left.Captain Smithers waited a few moments, to allow of the coming of the lieutenant; and meanwhile they all gazed at the Malay, a wild, half-naked fellow, whose scraps of clothing were torn by contact with thorns, and being soaked with water clung to his copper-coloured skin.He was scratched and bleeding, and gazed sharply round from one to the other in a strange wild-eyed way, as if feeling that he was not safe.Just then the lieutenant came hurrying up, and the Malay, evidently supposing him to be the officer he sought, began to unfasten a knot in his sarong, from which he took a short piece of bamboo about the size of a man’s finger. One end of this was plugged with a piece of pith, and this he drew out, and then from inside, neatly rolled up and quite dry, a little piece of paper.“You Cap-tain Smit-ter?” said the Malay.“No, my man, that is the captain,” said the lieutenant, pointing. “Cap-tain Smit-ter. Ali Rajah send,” said the man, holding out the paper.“Did Ali send us this?” said the captain, eagerly.“Cap-tain Smit-ter, Ali Rajah send,” said the man again.“Where did you leave him?” said the captain.“Cap-tain Smit-ter, Ali Rajah send,” repeated the man, parrot fashion, showing plainly enough that he had been trained to use these words and no more.Captain Smithers unrolled the scrap of native paper to find written thereon,—“Found the party. Fighting for life in a stockade. Send help in steamer up right river.—Ali.”“Have you come straight from him?” exclaimed the captain, eagerly.“Cap-tain Smit-ter, Ali Rajah send,” said the man again.“Where is Wilson?” cried the captain, “or Gray? Ah, you are here, Gray. You have made some progress with the Malay tongue. See what this man knows.”Private Gray came forward, and by degrees, and with no little difficulty, learned from the Malay that the English party were in an old stockade upon a branch of the river, forty miles away, defending themselves against a strong body of the sultan’s forces.“Ask if they are well,” said the captain.“He says there are many ill, and many wounded, and that they have buried many under the palm-trees,” said Gray, in a low sad voice, “and that when the young chief, Ali, came upon them, they were at the last extremity from weakness and hunger.”Rachel Linton uttered a low wail, but on Mrs Major Sandars passing an arm round her, she made an effort and mastered her emotion, fixing her eyes on Adam Gray as, in a low, deep voice he continued the narrative after, at Captain Smithers’ wish, again questioning the Malay.“He says that after giving him the message to bear, the young chief, Ali, left him, saying that he was about to try and join the party in the old stockade, and fight with them to the end!”There was a mournful silence at this, and for a few moments no one spoke. Then Captain Smithers leaned towards Lieutenant Johnson.“Have you any questions to put?” he said.“Yes,” replied the lieutenant, and he turned round to their interpreter.“Tell me, Gray, what is your opinion of the messenger?”“At first, sir, I thought him genuine; but since then, there is something in his manner that makes me doubt the truth of his tale.”“And yet it seems feasible?”“Yes, sir, it does; and I confess I have little cause for doubting him; but still I do.”Lieutenant Johnson turned to Captain Smithers, and they went aside for a few minutes talking earnestly together, while all present watched eagerly for the next scene in the drama they were passing through.“Gray,” said Captain Smithers then, sharply, “ask the messenger if he knows where the old stockade is.”“He saysyes, sir, perfectly well.”“Ask him if he will guide the steamer there.”“Yes!” was the reply, “if the English officers would protect him from his people, and not let him be seen.”“Tell him,” said Captain Smithers, “that if he is faithful he will be handsomely paid; if he is treacherous, he will be hung to the yard-arm of the steamer, and his body thrown to the crocodiles.”Gray interpreted this to the Malay, who smiled, uncovered the hilt of his kris, drew it, took it by the blade, and knelt down before the officers, placing the point upright on the left shoulder close to his neck, then reaching out with his right hand, he motioned to Captain Smithers to strike the weapon down into his breast.“He says his life is yours, sir, and bids you kill him if he does not lead you to the stockade.”“One more question,” said Lieutenant Johnson. “Ask him if there is water enough up the right river?”Gray questioned the Malay, who nodded eagerly and then shook his head.“He says there is plenty of water, for the river is narrow and very deep, all but in one place, about a mile from the stockade, and of that he is not sure, he will not pledge himself to its being sufficiently deep; but all Rajah Gantang’s prahus have gone up and down in safety.”“That will do,” said the lieutenant.“Yes,” said Captain Smithers, “take him aside, give him some food, and guard him well.”It fell to the lot of Adam Gray to take charge of the Malay who ate voraciously of what was placed before him, and then smiling his satisfaction he prepared himself a piece of betel-nut, and lying down in the shade went off fast asleep, evidently wearied out.Meanwhile a short consultation was held, during which it was settled that at any risk the steamer must go to the assistance of the beleaguered party, Captain Smithers being on the alert to retire into the barracks when it became necessary.This place he would have to hold with stubborn determination, knowing that the steamer could not be long away, and that Lieutenant Johnson was going with the knowledge that those he left behind were in need of help.The fires were lit on the instant, and every effort made to get the steam up, but all was done as quietly as possible, so as not to take the attention of the Malays, and about ten o’clock all was ready for the start, when Adam Gray went and roused up the Malay.The man rose, shook himself, and then accompanied his guide without a word, climbing the side of the steamer, where everything was ready; the cables were cast loose, and at half-steam the great vessel moved softly up the river by the light of the stars, which just made their way visible.As far as they could see, the alarm of the departure had not been spread; and the steamer glided away so softly, and with so little noise, that there was the chance of her escaping the notice of the Malays, who might not find out their departure until morning.This would delay any attack that might be made for many hours; but all the same, Captain Smithers felt it better to at once evacuate the outer works, and two hours after the steamer had glided away, almost invisible to those who saw her go, the outer works were lying unguarded, and the whole of the force safely barricaded in the stronghold, with every sentry on the alert.Everything had been done in the quietest manner. There was neither noise nor loud order; the men caught the lightest whisper; and there was something weird and strange-looking in the silent figures moving here and there; but nothing like so weird of aspect as about a couple of dozen dark shadows that were creeping over the ground taking advantage of every bush or inequality of the ground to cover their movements till they reached the deserted earth-works and crouched there exultingly.An hour later the sky was overclouded; and in the darkness the Malays came crowding up by hundreds, evidently ready for an assault, while most ominous of all was the fact that numbers of them bore bundles of light wood, and some lumps of dammar ready to continue the task they had had to give up consequent upon the steamer’s return.
There was no little excitement at this announcement, and Captain Smithers sent at once for Lieutenant Johnson from the steamer, while a file of soldiers went for the messenger who had asked for admission.
The ladies were too much interested to think of leaving, so Mary Sinclair ran to fetch Mrs Major Sandars, and returned with her to see that a rough-looking Malay had been brought up to the group she had left.
Captain Smithers waited a few moments, to allow of the coming of the lieutenant; and meanwhile they all gazed at the Malay, a wild, half-naked fellow, whose scraps of clothing were torn by contact with thorns, and being soaked with water clung to his copper-coloured skin.
He was scratched and bleeding, and gazed sharply round from one to the other in a strange wild-eyed way, as if feeling that he was not safe.
Just then the lieutenant came hurrying up, and the Malay, evidently supposing him to be the officer he sought, began to unfasten a knot in his sarong, from which he took a short piece of bamboo about the size of a man’s finger. One end of this was plugged with a piece of pith, and this he drew out, and then from inside, neatly rolled up and quite dry, a little piece of paper.
“You Cap-tain Smit-ter?” said the Malay.
“No, my man, that is the captain,” said the lieutenant, pointing. “Cap-tain Smit-ter. Ali Rajah send,” said the man, holding out the paper.
“Did Ali send us this?” said the captain, eagerly.
“Cap-tain Smit-ter, Ali Rajah send,” said the man again.
“Where did you leave him?” said the captain.
“Cap-tain Smit-ter, Ali Rajah send,” repeated the man, parrot fashion, showing plainly enough that he had been trained to use these words and no more.
Captain Smithers unrolled the scrap of native paper to find written thereon,—
“Found the party. Fighting for life in a stockade. Send help in steamer up right river.—Ali.”
“Have you come straight from him?” exclaimed the captain, eagerly.
“Cap-tain Smit-ter, Ali Rajah send,” said the man again.
“Where is Wilson?” cried the captain, “or Gray? Ah, you are here, Gray. You have made some progress with the Malay tongue. See what this man knows.”
Private Gray came forward, and by degrees, and with no little difficulty, learned from the Malay that the English party were in an old stockade upon a branch of the river, forty miles away, defending themselves against a strong body of the sultan’s forces.
“Ask if they are well,” said the captain.
“He says there are many ill, and many wounded, and that they have buried many under the palm-trees,” said Gray, in a low sad voice, “and that when the young chief, Ali, came upon them, they were at the last extremity from weakness and hunger.”
Rachel Linton uttered a low wail, but on Mrs Major Sandars passing an arm round her, she made an effort and mastered her emotion, fixing her eyes on Adam Gray as, in a low, deep voice he continued the narrative after, at Captain Smithers’ wish, again questioning the Malay.
“He says that after giving him the message to bear, the young chief, Ali, left him, saying that he was about to try and join the party in the old stockade, and fight with them to the end!”
There was a mournful silence at this, and for a few moments no one spoke. Then Captain Smithers leaned towards Lieutenant Johnson.
“Have you any questions to put?” he said.
“Yes,” replied the lieutenant, and he turned round to their interpreter.
“Tell me, Gray, what is your opinion of the messenger?”
“At first, sir, I thought him genuine; but since then, there is something in his manner that makes me doubt the truth of his tale.”
“And yet it seems feasible?”
“Yes, sir, it does; and I confess I have little cause for doubting him; but still I do.”
Lieutenant Johnson turned to Captain Smithers, and they went aside for a few minutes talking earnestly together, while all present watched eagerly for the next scene in the drama they were passing through.
“Gray,” said Captain Smithers then, sharply, “ask the messenger if he knows where the old stockade is.”
“He saysyes, sir, perfectly well.”
“Ask him if he will guide the steamer there.”
“Yes!” was the reply, “if the English officers would protect him from his people, and not let him be seen.”
“Tell him,” said Captain Smithers, “that if he is faithful he will be handsomely paid; if he is treacherous, he will be hung to the yard-arm of the steamer, and his body thrown to the crocodiles.”
Gray interpreted this to the Malay, who smiled, uncovered the hilt of his kris, drew it, took it by the blade, and knelt down before the officers, placing the point upright on the left shoulder close to his neck, then reaching out with his right hand, he motioned to Captain Smithers to strike the weapon down into his breast.
“He says his life is yours, sir, and bids you kill him if he does not lead you to the stockade.”
“One more question,” said Lieutenant Johnson. “Ask him if there is water enough up the right river?”
Gray questioned the Malay, who nodded eagerly and then shook his head.
“He says there is plenty of water, for the river is narrow and very deep, all but in one place, about a mile from the stockade, and of that he is not sure, he will not pledge himself to its being sufficiently deep; but all Rajah Gantang’s prahus have gone up and down in safety.”
“That will do,” said the lieutenant.
“Yes,” said Captain Smithers, “take him aside, give him some food, and guard him well.”
It fell to the lot of Adam Gray to take charge of the Malay who ate voraciously of what was placed before him, and then smiling his satisfaction he prepared himself a piece of betel-nut, and lying down in the shade went off fast asleep, evidently wearied out.
Meanwhile a short consultation was held, during which it was settled that at any risk the steamer must go to the assistance of the beleaguered party, Captain Smithers being on the alert to retire into the barracks when it became necessary.
This place he would have to hold with stubborn determination, knowing that the steamer could not be long away, and that Lieutenant Johnson was going with the knowledge that those he left behind were in need of help.
The fires were lit on the instant, and every effort made to get the steam up, but all was done as quietly as possible, so as not to take the attention of the Malays, and about ten o’clock all was ready for the start, when Adam Gray went and roused up the Malay.
The man rose, shook himself, and then accompanied his guide without a word, climbing the side of the steamer, where everything was ready; the cables were cast loose, and at half-steam the great vessel moved softly up the river by the light of the stars, which just made their way visible.
As far as they could see, the alarm of the departure had not been spread; and the steamer glided away so softly, and with so little noise, that there was the chance of her escaping the notice of the Malays, who might not find out their departure until morning.
This would delay any attack that might be made for many hours; but all the same, Captain Smithers felt it better to at once evacuate the outer works, and two hours after the steamer had glided away, almost invisible to those who saw her go, the outer works were lying unguarded, and the whole of the force safely barricaded in the stronghold, with every sentry on the alert.
Everything had been done in the quietest manner. There was neither noise nor loud order; the men caught the lightest whisper; and there was something weird and strange-looking in the silent figures moving here and there; but nothing like so weird of aspect as about a couple of dozen dark shadows that were creeping over the ground taking advantage of every bush or inequality of the ground to cover their movements till they reached the deserted earth-works and crouched there exultingly.
An hour later the sky was overclouded; and in the darkness the Malays came crowding up by hundreds, evidently ready for an assault, while most ominous of all was the fact that numbers of them bore bundles of light wood, and some lumps of dammar ready to continue the task they had had to give up consequent upon the steamer’s return.
Chapter Fifty Two.How the Steamer went up the Right Arm of the River.A night journey on a river when the stars give but little light and the banks are dense jungle overhanging the water’s edge, is one of no little difficulty. Certainly the crew of the steamer had upon their side the fact, that the stream, though swift, was deep, and its bottom mud. There were no rocks and cataracts to encounter in its lower course; and even if they did run aground there was but little risk to the vessel. But all the same the most constant watchfulness was needed, and Lieutenant Johnson himself joined the look-out at the bows, communicating by a chain of his men with the engine-room and man at the wheel.For some distance after leaving the island they proceeded very slowly, little more than mastering the stream; but as soon as they felt that they were beyond hearing the speed was increased, and for some miles—through which the course of the river was well-known—the “Startler” proceeded at a pretty good rate, so that by morning half the journey was accomplished, and they were abreast of the stockade they had attacked and destroyed.About a couple of miles past this the course of the right river opened out, one that a navigator strange to the river would have hesitated to take, for it was narrow at the mouth, overgrown with trees, and seemed to form a chain of lakes, that were one blaze of colour with the blossom of the lotus.On the other hand, what seemed the regular course of the river ran broad and clear, and apparently without obstruction of any kind.The Malay, who was leaning over the bulwark with his mouth distended with betel, pointed one brown arm towards the narrow branch, and the steamer’s engines were slackened and nearly stopped while a boat was lowered, and the crew rowed some little distance along the winding, sluggish stream, sounding every few yards, to find the river extremely deep with muddy bottom; and as it seemed to wind right on precisely the same in character, they returned and reported the result to the lieutenant, who at once gave orders, and the steamer entered the narrow, winding way.To all appearance they might have been the first visitors to those regions, so haunted was the strangely beautiful scene by wild creatures. Birds in abundance fled at their approach. Now it was a white eagle, then a vividly plumaged kingfisher, or a kind of black, racket-tailed daw with glossy plumage. Parrots of a diminutive size and dazzling green plumage flitted before them; and from time to time the lotus leaves were agitated by a shoal of fish, that alarmed by the wash of the steamer rushed away.Every now and then, too, Bob Roberts, who was feasting on what passed like a glorious panorama before him, had his adventure with Ali in the shooting-trip brought vividly to mind, for some huge reptile or another shuffled into the slow stream, while others lay sluggishly basking, and ill-disposed to move.Their progress was slow, for the screw-propeller was more than once fouled by the thick weed through which they ploughed their way. So dense was it that at times it gathered in large cables, stretching from bank to bank, and literally barring further progress, till the steamer was backed and driven at full speed against the obstruction, which divided and swept off in hillocks to starboard and to port.Then a more open stretch of water would be gained, widening quite into a lake, and framed in glorious tropical verdure; large pools would be quite free from vegetable growth, and so clear that the bright scales of the fish could be seen flashing far below. Then the river seemed to wind its way through dense growths of lily and other water plants, amidst which water-fowl in endless numbers disported themselves, but fled away at the sight of the steamer, panting onward through this wilderness of beauty.For in spite of the anxiety felt by all, and their eagerness to reach the spot where their friends were in peril, it was impossible to help gazing with wonder and admiration at the loveliness of all around. Where the stream narrowed, the great trees growing to the water’s edge formed huge walls of verdure, in parts a hundred—two hundred feet high; and over and amidst these wreathed and twined the beautiful creepers, filling up every gap with leaves of the most delicious, tender green. Then a tree would be passed one mass of white and tinted blossoms, another of scarlet, and again another of rich crimson, while in every damp, sun-flecked opening wondrous orchids could be seen carpeting the earth with their strange forms and glowing colours. Pitcher-plants too, some of huge size, dotted the ground every here and there where the steamer passed close to the shore—so close at times that the ends of the yards brushed the trees; and yet the vessel took no harm, for the deep water ran in places to the banks, and though often half covered with weedy growth, the river was canal-like in its deeper parts, where the sluggish stream steadily flowed along to join its more rapid brother miles below.For some time now Lieutenant Johnson had been bitterly regretting that he had not insisted upon bringing Private Gray, so as to have an interpreter, for his own knowledge of the Malay tongue was almostnil. And yet he was obliged to own that it would have been unjust to rob them at the station of part of their strength, when at any moment they might want it all.Bob Roberts was the better Malay scholar of the two, but his vocabulary only extended to asking for a durian, Good morning! How are you? and the favourite Malay proverbial saying,—“Apa boleh booat”—It was to be, or It couldn’t be helped.They had been progressing now for hours, and the heat was insufferable—a heavy, moist heat, in that narrow way, shut in between two walls of verdure, and yet there seemed to be no signs of their journey being nearly ended. Under the circumstances Bob Roberts was set to try and get some information out of their guide, whom he tried with “Good morning,” in the Malay tongue; and then, after a civil answer to his remark, plunged at once into plain English with,—“How much farther is it?”The Malay looked hard in his eyes, and Bob repeated the question.The Malay seemed to divine what he meant, for he raised one bare brown arm and pointed forward along the course of the river.It was a mute but conclusive reply, telling the middy plainly enough that they had farther to go, and once more the attention of all was taken up by the navigation of the narrow winding channel.Still there was no fault to be found with Ali’s message, for the water was deep, and though the steamer seemed at times to be running right into the bank, there was always room to turn what looked to be an ugly curve, and onward they went through the dense jungle.On either side the primeval forest seemed to stretch away, and where there were changes of a more park-like character, so rare was the sight of a human being there that the shy pea-fowl, all metallic plumage and glorious eyes, could be seen gazing at the steamer before taking flight. There were deer too seen occasionally, and had this been a pleasure-trip the sportsman would have had ample use for rifle or gun.But this was no pleasure-trip, for the deck was cleared for action, and the men were at their quarters, ready to send shot or shell hurtling through the jungle whenever there should be a reason for such a step.Another hour, and another, and still the Malay guide pointed before him, gesticulating a little sometimes as if bidding them hasten onwards.The speed was increased at such times, though it was risky, for the narrowness of the course, and the size of the steamer, rendered the greatest care necessary to avoid running her bows in among the trees.Lieutenant Johnson stamped impatiently at last as the sun was descending behind the trees, and still the Malay pointed onwards.“It is enough to make one think it a wild goose chase!” he exclaimed. “We have made a grievous mistake in not having an interpreter. Roberts, you ought to be able to speak the Malay tongue.”“Yes, sir,” said Bob, “I ought!” And then to himself, “So ought you!”Another hour and they were passing through a denser part than ever; so close were they that the large drooping boughs of some of the trees cracked and rustled and snapped as they passed by to get to what seemed to be quite a lagoon shining clear and silvery, as seen by those on board the steamer through quite a tunnel of overhanging branches.“We ought to be able to hear firing by this time if it is going on at the stockade,” said the lieutenant. “What a place to bring Her Majesty’s ship into! If I did not know that those poor fellows were anxiously expecting help, not a fathom further would I take the steamer than into yon open water to-night! Here! fetch that Malay fellow here, and let’s see if we cannot get something out of him!”Bob Roberts went forward to where the Malay stood leaning over the bulwarks gazing at the trees on either side—at least he went to where the Malay did stand gazing at the trees, but now to Bob’s astonishment the man was not there!“Where’s the Malay guide?” he said sharply to Dick, who was nearest to him.“Well, sir, if you call that there chap a guide,” said Dick, “I’ve done.”“I say where’s the Malay guide?” said Bob, angrily.“Haven’t seen him, sir,” said Dick, touching his cap.“But he was standing here not ten minutes ago, just before we brushed against those trees!” exclaimed the young officer.“Well yes, sir, I remember as he was,” said old Dick, and several of the sailors were ready to affirm that they saw him not five minutes before.A look round the deck showed that he was not there, and Bob stood looking puzzled; for the man had evidently looked upon himself almost as a prisoner, and not free to go about; he had consequently stood leaning against the port bulwark all the time, except when he had squatted on the deck to partake of the food supplied to him.“Couldn’t have been knocked overboard by the boughs, could he, sir?” said Dick.“Impossible!” exclaimed the middy; and he hurried off to report the fact that the Malay was missing.“Are you sure?” exclaimed the lieutenant sharply.“Certain, sir! He’s nowhere on deck!”“I thought as much!” cried the lieutenant angrily. “Good heavens, Roberts! that we could have been such idiots! Gray was right!”“I do not understand you, sir.”“Understand? It’s plain enough! That man, Private Gray, said he suspected the fellow, and yet we allowed him to gull us with his plausible story. Here, look sharp there!” he cried, as the steamer stood out now free of the tunnel-like canal through which she had passed, and was now approaching the centre of a tolerably broad lagoon.The lieutenant gave his command in short, sharp, decisive tones, and a minute later a little anchor fell with a splash into the water, and the steamer swung in the just perceptible stream.“I dare not attempt the journey back to-night, Roberts,” he said. “We should be aground in the thick darkness before we had gone a mile.”“But won’t you go forward, sir? We must be near the stockade!” exclaimed Bob.“If we go on till the river becomes a ditch, we shall find no stockade here, Roberts!” cried the lieutenant. “Why should there be one? There is neither campong nor sampan upon the river, and it is evident that there is no trade. No, Roberts, we have been tricked—cheated, and we must get back at full speed as soon as day begins to break. I have been uncomfortable for hours now, as I felt that our poor friends could never have come through such a forest as this. It is only passable for beasts!”“But the Malay and his message?”“The Malay is as great a cheat as the old fruit-seller; and that message was never written by young Ali, unless he, too, is an enemy!”“My life upon it, he is not,” cried Bob.“Then either he has been killed, or our plans were overheard, or betrayed, or something or another! That fellow—I see it all now it is too late—has quietly led us up here, awaiting his chance, and it came when those big boughs swept the side. He swung himself into one of the trees, and is by this time on his way back to his friends.”“But the jungle is not passable!” said Bob.“Then he will make a bamboo raft and get down the river. Oh, that we could be such fools!”Bob Roberts stood in the gathering darkness staring at his superior officer, and trying hard to believe that the Malay might have been swept over by accident; but by degrees he felt his mind veering round to the lieutenant’s ideas.The next minute orders were being given respecting the watch on deck, every light was extinguished, and extra care taken lest they should have been led into a trap and attempts be made to board the steamer during the night. But as the hours glided on, all they heard was the distant roar of some beast of prey, or an occasional splash in the water—sounds that had a strange attraction for Bob Roberts, as, with no thought of going to his cot, he leaned against the bulwark watching the fire-flies amid the trees, and mournfully wondered how they were getting on at the station, and what had become of Ali, shuddering again and again as the lieutenant’s ominous words recurred to his mind.
A night journey on a river when the stars give but little light and the banks are dense jungle overhanging the water’s edge, is one of no little difficulty. Certainly the crew of the steamer had upon their side the fact, that the stream, though swift, was deep, and its bottom mud. There were no rocks and cataracts to encounter in its lower course; and even if they did run aground there was but little risk to the vessel. But all the same the most constant watchfulness was needed, and Lieutenant Johnson himself joined the look-out at the bows, communicating by a chain of his men with the engine-room and man at the wheel.
For some distance after leaving the island they proceeded very slowly, little more than mastering the stream; but as soon as they felt that they were beyond hearing the speed was increased, and for some miles—through which the course of the river was well-known—the “Startler” proceeded at a pretty good rate, so that by morning half the journey was accomplished, and they were abreast of the stockade they had attacked and destroyed.
About a couple of miles past this the course of the right river opened out, one that a navigator strange to the river would have hesitated to take, for it was narrow at the mouth, overgrown with trees, and seemed to form a chain of lakes, that were one blaze of colour with the blossom of the lotus.
On the other hand, what seemed the regular course of the river ran broad and clear, and apparently without obstruction of any kind.
The Malay, who was leaning over the bulwark with his mouth distended with betel, pointed one brown arm towards the narrow branch, and the steamer’s engines were slackened and nearly stopped while a boat was lowered, and the crew rowed some little distance along the winding, sluggish stream, sounding every few yards, to find the river extremely deep with muddy bottom; and as it seemed to wind right on precisely the same in character, they returned and reported the result to the lieutenant, who at once gave orders, and the steamer entered the narrow, winding way.
To all appearance they might have been the first visitors to those regions, so haunted was the strangely beautiful scene by wild creatures. Birds in abundance fled at their approach. Now it was a white eagle, then a vividly plumaged kingfisher, or a kind of black, racket-tailed daw with glossy plumage. Parrots of a diminutive size and dazzling green plumage flitted before them; and from time to time the lotus leaves were agitated by a shoal of fish, that alarmed by the wash of the steamer rushed away.
Every now and then, too, Bob Roberts, who was feasting on what passed like a glorious panorama before him, had his adventure with Ali in the shooting-trip brought vividly to mind, for some huge reptile or another shuffled into the slow stream, while others lay sluggishly basking, and ill-disposed to move.
Their progress was slow, for the screw-propeller was more than once fouled by the thick weed through which they ploughed their way. So dense was it that at times it gathered in large cables, stretching from bank to bank, and literally barring further progress, till the steamer was backed and driven at full speed against the obstruction, which divided and swept off in hillocks to starboard and to port.
Then a more open stretch of water would be gained, widening quite into a lake, and framed in glorious tropical verdure; large pools would be quite free from vegetable growth, and so clear that the bright scales of the fish could be seen flashing far below. Then the river seemed to wind its way through dense growths of lily and other water plants, amidst which water-fowl in endless numbers disported themselves, but fled away at the sight of the steamer, panting onward through this wilderness of beauty.
For in spite of the anxiety felt by all, and their eagerness to reach the spot where their friends were in peril, it was impossible to help gazing with wonder and admiration at the loveliness of all around. Where the stream narrowed, the great trees growing to the water’s edge formed huge walls of verdure, in parts a hundred—two hundred feet high; and over and amidst these wreathed and twined the beautiful creepers, filling up every gap with leaves of the most delicious, tender green. Then a tree would be passed one mass of white and tinted blossoms, another of scarlet, and again another of rich crimson, while in every damp, sun-flecked opening wondrous orchids could be seen carpeting the earth with their strange forms and glowing colours. Pitcher-plants too, some of huge size, dotted the ground every here and there where the steamer passed close to the shore—so close at times that the ends of the yards brushed the trees; and yet the vessel took no harm, for the deep water ran in places to the banks, and though often half covered with weedy growth, the river was canal-like in its deeper parts, where the sluggish stream steadily flowed along to join its more rapid brother miles below.
For some time now Lieutenant Johnson had been bitterly regretting that he had not insisted upon bringing Private Gray, so as to have an interpreter, for his own knowledge of the Malay tongue was almostnil. And yet he was obliged to own that it would have been unjust to rob them at the station of part of their strength, when at any moment they might want it all.
Bob Roberts was the better Malay scholar of the two, but his vocabulary only extended to asking for a durian, Good morning! How are you? and the favourite Malay proverbial saying,—“Apa boleh booat”—It was to be, or It couldn’t be helped.
They had been progressing now for hours, and the heat was insufferable—a heavy, moist heat, in that narrow way, shut in between two walls of verdure, and yet there seemed to be no signs of their journey being nearly ended. Under the circumstances Bob Roberts was set to try and get some information out of their guide, whom he tried with “Good morning,” in the Malay tongue; and then, after a civil answer to his remark, plunged at once into plain English with,—
“How much farther is it?”
The Malay looked hard in his eyes, and Bob repeated the question.
The Malay seemed to divine what he meant, for he raised one bare brown arm and pointed forward along the course of the river.
It was a mute but conclusive reply, telling the middy plainly enough that they had farther to go, and once more the attention of all was taken up by the navigation of the narrow winding channel.
Still there was no fault to be found with Ali’s message, for the water was deep, and though the steamer seemed at times to be running right into the bank, there was always room to turn what looked to be an ugly curve, and onward they went through the dense jungle.
On either side the primeval forest seemed to stretch away, and where there were changes of a more park-like character, so rare was the sight of a human being there that the shy pea-fowl, all metallic plumage and glorious eyes, could be seen gazing at the steamer before taking flight. There were deer too seen occasionally, and had this been a pleasure-trip the sportsman would have had ample use for rifle or gun.
But this was no pleasure-trip, for the deck was cleared for action, and the men were at their quarters, ready to send shot or shell hurtling through the jungle whenever there should be a reason for such a step.
Another hour, and another, and still the Malay guide pointed before him, gesticulating a little sometimes as if bidding them hasten onwards.
The speed was increased at such times, though it was risky, for the narrowness of the course, and the size of the steamer, rendered the greatest care necessary to avoid running her bows in among the trees.
Lieutenant Johnson stamped impatiently at last as the sun was descending behind the trees, and still the Malay pointed onwards.
“It is enough to make one think it a wild goose chase!” he exclaimed. “We have made a grievous mistake in not having an interpreter. Roberts, you ought to be able to speak the Malay tongue.”
“Yes, sir,” said Bob, “I ought!” And then to himself, “So ought you!”
Another hour and they were passing through a denser part than ever; so close were they that the large drooping boughs of some of the trees cracked and rustled and snapped as they passed by to get to what seemed to be quite a lagoon shining clear and silvery, as seen by those on board the steamer through quite a tunnel of overhanging branches.
“We ought to be able to hear firing by this time if it is going on at the stockade,” said the lieutenant. “What a place to bring Her Majesty’s ship into! If I did not know that those poor fellows were anxiously expecting help, not a fathom further would I take the steamer than into yon open water to-night! Here! fetch that Malay fellow here, and let’s see if we cannot get something out of him!”
Bob Roberts went forward to where the Malay stood leaning over the bulwarks gazing at the trees on either side—at least he went to where the Malay did stand gazing at the trees, but now to Bob’s astonishment the man was not there!
“Where’s the Malay guide?” he said sharply to Dick, who was nearest to him.
“Well, sir, if you call that there chap a guide,” said Dick, “I’ve done.”
“I say where’s the Malay guide?” said Bob, angrily.
“Haven’t seen him, sir,” said Dick, touching his cap.
“But he was standing here not ten minutes ago, just before we brushed against those trees!” exclaimed the young officer.
“Well yes, sir, I remember as he was,” said old Dick, and several of the sailors were ready to affirm that they saw him not five minutes before.
A look round the deck showed that he was not there, and Bob stood looking puzzled; for the man had evidently looked upon himself almost as a prisoner, and not free to go about; he had consequently stood leaning against the port bulwark all the time, except when he had squatted on the deck to partake of the food supplied to him.
“Couldn’t have been knocked overboard by the boughs, could he, sir?” said Dick.
“Impossible!” exclaimed the middy; and he hurried off to report the fact that the Malay was missing.
“Are you sure?” exclaimed the lieutenant sharply.
“Certain, sir! He’s nowhere on deck!”
“I thought as much!” cried the lieutenant angrily. “Good heavens, Roberts! that we could have been such idiots! Gray was right!”
“I do not understand you, sir.”
“Understand? It’s plain enough! That man, Private Gray, said he suspected the fellow, and yet we allowed him to gull us with his plausible story. Here, look sharp there!” he cried, as the steamer stood out now free of the tunnel-like canal through which she had passed, and was now approaching the centre of a tolerably broad lagoon.
The lieutenant gave his command in short, sharp, decisive tones, and a minute later a little anchor fell with a splash into the water, and the steamer swung in the just perceptible stream.
“I dare not attempt the journey back to-night, Roberts,” he said. “We should be aground in the thick darkness before we had gone a mile.”
“But won’t you go forward, sir? We must be near the stockade!” exclaimed Bob.
“If we go on till the river becomes a ditch, we shall find no stockade here, Roberts!” cried the lieutenant. “Why should there be one? There is neither campong nor sampan upon the river, and it is evident that there is no trade. No, Roberts, we have been tricked—cheated, and we must get back at full speed as soon as day begins to break. I have been uncomfortable for hours now, as I felt that our poor friends could never have come through such a forest as this. It is only passable for beasts!”
“But the Malay and his message?”
“The Malay is as great a cheat as the old fruit-seller; and that message was never written by young Ali, unless he, too, is an enemy!”
“My life upon it, he is not,” cried Bob.
“Then either he has been killed, or our plans were overheard, or betrayed, or something or another! That fellow—I see it all now it is too late—has quietly led us up here, awaiting his chance, and it came when those big boughs swept the side. He swung himself into one of the trees, and is by this time on his way back to his friends.”
“But the jungle is not passable!” said Bob.
“Then he will make a bamboo raft and get down the river. Oh, that we could be such fools!”
Bob Roberts stood in the gathering darkness staring at his superior officer, and trying hard to believe that the Malay might have been swept over by accident; but by degrees he felt his mind veering round to the lieutenant’s ideas.
The next minute orders were being given respecting the watch on deck, every light was extinguished, and extra care taken lest they should have been led into a trap and attempts be made to board the steamer during the night. But as the hours glided on, all they heard was the distant roar of some beast of prey, or an occasional splash in the water—sounds that had a strange attraction for Bob Roberts, as, with no thought of going to his cot, he leaned against the bulwark watching the fire-flies amid the trees, and mournfully wondered how they were getting on at the station, and what had become of Ali, shuddering again and again as the lieutenant’s ominous words recurred to his mind.