Chapter Thirty.

Chapter Thirty.How Private Gray proved Suspicious.Adam Gray left the men in the mess-room that night, chatting about the coming tiger-hunt, and wondering who would be selected to accompany the expedition. He could not help thinking, as he shouldered his rifle, and was marched off by a sergeant with half-a-dozen more, to relieve guard, that he should like to be one of the party himself. In happy bygone days he had been fond of sport, and in a trip to North America were well-remembered perils and pleasant adventures. And now this talk of the tiger-hunt had roused in him a strong interest, and set him recalling days when he was very different to what he was now.“It’s no good to sigh,” he said to himself, and the measured tramp, tramp of the marching men sounded solemn and strange in the darkness, rousing him once more to a sense of his position.“If I’m to go, I go,” he said bitterly. “That will be as my superiors please; and if I do go, it will not be as a hunter.”In spite of himself; however, as soon as guard had been relieved, and he was left in charge of a post not far from Dullah’s hut, his thoughts went back to his early career, and he grew at times quite excited as he compared it with the life he was living now.Then his thoughts wandered to the residency, and from thence back to the day when he was bitten by the sea snake, and lay there upon the deck tended by Miss Linton.These thoughts agitated him, so that he set off pacing briskly up and down for a couple of hours, and then, his brain calmed by the exercise, he stood still under the shadow of a great palm, with whose trunk, as he stood back close to it, his form so assimilated in the darkness that at a couple of yards distance he was invisible.His post was close to the river, so close that he walked upon the very edge of the bank, which was in places undermined by the swift current. This post had been cleared from the thick jungle. It was but a narrow piece, some two yards wide, and forty long, and this it was his duty to pace during his long watch, to guard that side of the island from a landing foe.Midnight had passed, and all was very still. There was a splash from time to time in the stream, telling of the movement of some reptile or great fish, and now and then, from the far-distant parts of the jungle across the water, he could hear the cry of some wild beast. Now and then he watched the fire-flies scintillating amidst the leaves, and thought of how different life was out in this far-off tropic land to that in dear old England.He had been thinking quite an hour without stirring; but though his memory strayed here and there, his eyes were watchful, and he scanned from time to time the broad smooth surface of the stream in search of passing boats.At last he fancied he detected something dark moving along, but it went by so smoothly that it might have been the trunk of some tree, or even the back of a great crocodile, for there was no splash of oars.He had almost forgotten the incident, when he started slightly and listened, thinking he could hear a whispering, and this was repeated.He listened intently, but though he felt sure that he could hear voices, still that need not mean danger, for sound passes so easily across the water, that the noise might have come from down lower in the island, or even from the shore across the river.The whispering ceased, and then he listened in vain for a time, and at last he was just thinking of pacing up and down once more, when certainly there was a faint splash, and on looking in the direction he could see on the dark water what seemed like a dim shadow gliding along.It might have been a boat or the shadow of a boat, he could not be sure. In fact, there were moments when he doubted whether it was not some ocular illusion brought about by too intently gazing through the gloom.And there he stood, hesitating as to whether he should fire and give the alarm.But the next moment he reasonably enough asked himself why he should do so, for there was nothing alarming in the fact of a tiny sampan gliding over the river. It might be only a fisherman on his way to some favourite spot, or perhaps one of the Malays bound up the river, or possibly after all a mere deception.There seemed to be nothing to merit the alarm being raised, and he stood watching once more the spot where the boat had disappeared. Still he did not resume his march up and down, but recalled the night of the attack, and began to consider how easy it would be for a crafty enemy to land and take them by surprise some gloomy night. Dark-skinned, and lithe of action as cats, they could easily surprise and kris the sentries. In his own case, for instance, what would be easier than for an enemy to lurk on the edge of the thick jungly patch by which the path ran, and there stab him as he passed?“It would be very easy,” he thought. “Yes; and if I stand here much longer I shall begin to think that I am doing so because I dare not walk beside that dark piece of wood. Still I dare do it, and I will.”As if out of bravado, he immediately began to pace his allotted post once more, and he had hardly gone half-way when a sharp sound upon his left made him bring his piece down to the present, and wait with bayonet fixed what he looked upon as a certain attack.Again he hesitated about firing and giving the alarm, for fear of incurring ridicule and perhaps reprimand. He knew in his heart that he was nervous and excitable, being troubled lest any ill should befall the occupants of the residency, and being in such an excited state made him ready to imagine everything he saw to mean danger.So he stood there, ready to repel any attack made upon him, and as he remained upon his guard the rustling noise increased, and he momentarily expected to see the leaves parted and some dark figure rush out; but still he was kept in suspense, for nothing appeared.At last he came to the conclusion that it was some restless bird or animal disturbed by his presence, and told himself that the noise made was magnified by his own fancies; and, rather glad that he had not given the alarm, he continued to march up and down, passing to and fro in close proximity to a dark Malay, whose hand clasped a wavy, dull-bladed kris, that the holder seemed waiting to thrust into his chest the moment an opportunity occurred, or so soon as the sentry should have given the alarm.At last the weary watch came to an end, for the tramp of the relief was heard, and Sergeant Lund marched up his little party of men, heard Gray’s report of the rustling noise, and the dark shadow on the river; said “Humph!” in a gruff way; a fresh man was placed on sentry, and Adam Gray was marched back with the other tired men who were picked up on the round into the little fort.

Adam Gray left the men in the mess-room that night, chatting about the coming tiger-hunt, and wondering who would be selected to accompany the expedition. He could not help thinking, as he shouldered his rifle, and was marched off by a sergeant with half-a-dozen more, to relieve guard, that he should like to be one of the party himself. In happy bygone days he had been fond of sport, and in a trip to North America were well-remembered perils and pleasant adventures. And now this talk of the tiger-hunt had roused in him a strong interest, and set him recalling days when he was very different to what he was now.

“It’s no good to sigh,” he said to himself, and the measured tramp, tramp of the marching men sounded solemn and strange in the darkness, rousing him once more to a sense of his position.

“If I’m to go, I go,” he said bitterly. “That will be as my superiors please; and if I do go, it will not be as a hunter.”

In spite of himself; however, as soon as guard had been relieved, and he was left in charge of a post not far from Dullah’s hut, his thoughts went back to his early career, and he grew at times quite excited as he compared it with the life he was living now.

Then his thoughts wandered to the residency, and from thence back to the day when he was bitten by the sea snake, and lay there upon the deck tended by Miss Linton.

These thoughts agitated him, so that he set off pacing briskly up and down for a couple of hours, and then, his brain calmed by the exercise, he stood still under the shadow of a great palm, with whose trunk, as he stood back close to it, his form so assimilated in the darkness that at a couple of yards distance he was invisible.

His post was close to the river, so close that he walked upon the very edge of the bank, which was in places undermined by the swift current. This post had been cleared from the thick jungle. It was but a narrow piece, some two yards wide, and forty long, and this it was his duty to pace during his long watch, to guard that side of the island from a landing foe.

Midnight had passed, and all was very still. There was a splash from time to time in the stream, telling of the movement of some reptile or great fish, and now and then, from the far-distant parts of the jungle across the water, he could hear the cry of some wild beast. Now and then he watched the fire-flies scintillating amidst the leaves, and thought of how different life was out in this far-off tropic land to that in dear old England.

He had been thinking quite an hour without stirring; but though his memory strayed here and there, his eyes were watchful, and he scanned from time to time the broad smooth surface of the stream in search of passing boats.

At last he fancied he detected something dark moving along, but it went by so smoothly that it might have been the trunk of some tree, or even the back of a great crocodile, for there was no splash of oars.

He had almost forgotten the incident, when he started slightly and listened, thinking he could hear a whispering, and this was repeated.

He listened intently, but though he felt sure that he could hear voices, still that need not mean danger, for sound passes so easily across the water, that the noise might have come from down lower in the island, or even from the shore across the river.

The whispering ceased, and then he listened in vain for a time, and at last he was just thinking of pacing up and down once more, when certainly there was a faint splash, and on looking in the direction he could see on the dark water what seemed like a dim shadow gliding along.

It might have been a boat or the shadow of a boat, he could not be sure. In fact, there were moments when he doubted whether it was not some ocular illusion brought about by too intently gazing through the gloom.

And there he stood, hesitating as to whether he should fire and give the alarm.

But the next moment he reasonably enough asked himself why he should do so, for there was nothing alarming in the fact of a tiny sampan gliding over the river. It might be only a fisherman on his way to some favourite spot, or perhaps one of the Malays bound up the river, or possibly after all a mere deception.

There seemed to be nothing to merit the alarm being raised, and he stood watching once more the spot where the boat had disappeared. Still he did not resume his march up and down, but recalled the night of the attack, and began to consider how easy it would be for a crafty enemy to land and take them by surprise some gloomy night. Dark-skinned, and lithe of action as cats, they could easily surprise and kris the sentries. In his own case, for instance, what would be easier than for an enemy to lurk on the edge of the thick jungly patch by which the path ran, and there stab him as he passed?

“It would be very easy,” he thought. “Yes; and if I stand here much longer I shall begin to think that I am doing so because I dare not walk beside that dark piece of wood. Still I dare do it, and I will.”

As if out of bravado, he immediately began to pace his allotted post once more, and he had hardly gone half-way when a sharp sound upon his left made him bring his piece down to the present, and wait with bayonet fixed what he looked upon as a certain attack.

Again he hesitated about firing and giving the alarm, for fear of incurring ridicule and perhaps reprimand. He knew in his heart that he was nervous and excitable, being troubled lest any ill should befall the occupants of the residency, and being in such an excited state made him ready to imagine everything he saw to mean danger.

So he stood there, ready to repel any attack made upon him, and as he remained upon his guard the rustling noise increased, and he momentarily expected to see the leaves parted and some dark figure rush out; but still he was kept in suspense, for nothing appeared.

At last he came to the conclusion that it was some restless bird or animal disturbed by his presence, and told himself that the noise made was magnified by his own fancies; and, rather glad that he had not given the alarm, he continued to march up and down, passing to and fro in close proximity to a dark Malay, whose hand clasped a wavy, dull-bladed kris, that the holder seemed waiting to thrust into his chest the moment an opportunity occurred, or so soon as the sentry should have given the alarm.

At last the weary watch came to an end, for the tramp of the relief was heard, and Sergeant Lund marched up his little party of men, heard Gray’s report of the rustling noise, and the dark shadow on the river; said “Humph!” in a gruff way; a fresh man was placed on sentry, and Adam Gray was marched back with the other tired men who were picked up on the round into the little fort.

Chapter Thirty One.How Some could go and Some must stay.The day of the tiger-hunt was at last close at hand. A vast deal of communication and counter communication had taken place with the sultan, whose people were making great preparations for the event.The sultan was constantly sending messengers, and asking that stores might be given him with plenty of ammunition. Not, though, in any mean begging spirit, for whenever a couple of his chiefs came with some request they were accompanied by a train of followers bearing presents—food, supplies of the finest rice, sugar-cane, and fruit; buffaloes and poultry; slabs of tin, little bags of gold dust, specimens of the native work; an abundance, in short, of useful and valuable things, all of which were accepted; though there was a grim feeling in the mind of Mr Linton that pretty well everything had been taken by force from some of the sultan’s miserable subjects.Still the policy was, to be on the best of terms with the sultan, and to hope to introduce reforms in his rule by degrees. The resident took the old school copy-book moral into consideration, that example was better than precept, and knowing full well that any sweeping code of rules and regulations would produce distaste, certain hatred, and perhaps a rising against the English rule, he determined to introduce little improvements by degrees, each to be, he hoped, tiny seeds from which would grow grand and substantial trees.The tiger-hunt was being prepared for evidently with childlike delight, and instead of its being a few hours’ expedition, it proved that it was to be an affair of a week. Tents were to be taken, huts to be formed, and quite a large district swept of the dangerous beasts. For as the sultan informed the English officers, the tigers had been unmolested for quite two years, and saving one or two taken in pitfalls, they had escaped almost scot free. The consequence of this was, that several poor Malays had been carried off from their rice-fields, and at least a dozen unfortunate Chinamen from the neighbourhood of some tin mines a few miles away.“I never meant to enter into such an extensive affair, gentlemen,” said the resident to Major Sandars and Captain Horton after dinner one day, when they had all been entertained at the mess-room. “I almost think we ought to draw back before it is too late.”“Well, I don’t know,” said Major Sandars. “It will please the sultan if we take a lot of men, and this is rather a stagnating life. I frankly tell you I should be very glad of the outing, and I am sure it would do good to the men.”“I quite agree with you, Sandars,” said Captain Horton; and Bob Roberts and Tom Long, who were opposite one another at the bottom of the table, exchanged glances. “I want a change, and I should be glad to give my lads a turn up the country. Drill’s all very well, but it gets wearisome. What do you say, Smithers?”“I must confess to being eager to go,” was the reply. “It seems to me the only gentleman who does not care for the trip is Mr Linton.”“My dear fellow, you never made a greater mistake in your life,” said Mr Linton, laughing. “Nothing would please me better than to be off for a couple of months, with a brace of good rifles, and an elephant, with plenty of beaters. I could even manage to exist for three months without reading a report, or writing a despatch.”Here there was a hearty laugh, and Mr Linton went on,—“There is one voice silent—the most important one, it seems to me. Come, doctor, what do you say? may we all go up the country and live in tents?”“Hah!” said Doctor Bolter, “now you have me on the hip. I want to go myself; horribly.”“Ha, ha, ha, ha!” laughed every one in chorus.“I want to see those black monkeys like our friend Mr Bob Roberts has for a pet. I say I want to see them in their native state. I want to get a specimen of the pink rhinoceros, and some of theLongicorns.Nymphalis Calydoniais to be found here, and I must shoot a few specimens ofCymbirhynchus Macrorhynchus, besides supplying myhortus siccuswith a complete series ofNepenthes.”“For goodness’ sake, doctor, don’t go on like that,” cried Captain Horton. “If you want to be cheerful to that extent, give us a recitation in pure Malay.”“Ah, you may all laugh,” said the doctor; “but I’m not ashamed of being a modest naturalist.”“Modest!” said Major Sandars. “Do you call that modest, to talk big like that? But come, tell us, may we go safely?”“That’s what I can’t quite settle,” said the doctor. “I don’t know what to say to you. A week’s hunting picnic would be very nice.”“Splendid,” said everybody.“And you’d have a good supply of tents? I can’t have my men sleeping in the open air.”“Abundance of everything,” said Major Sandars. “Regular commissariat stores—mess tent, and the rest of it.”“Stop a minute,” said the doctor, “not so fast. You see, what I’m afraid of is fever.”“We all are,” said Captain Horton. “Never mind, take a barrel and keep a strong solution of quinine always on tap for us. Now then, may we go? You see if it was on duty we shouldn’t study a moment, but as it’s a case of pleasuring—”“And keeping up good relations with the sultan,” said the resident.“And freeing the country from a pest,” said Captain Horton.“Tigers are pests enough,” said the doctor, “but intermittent or jungle fever is to my mind the pest of the country.”“Yes, of course, doctor,” said the resident; “but what do you think, may we go?”The doctor sat tapping the table with a dessert knife.“Will you all promise me faithfully not to drink a drop of water that has not been filtered?” he said.“Yes, yes, yes,” came from all down the table.“I’ll promise, doctor, not to drink any water at all,” said Bob Roberts in a low voice, that was heard, though, by the doctor.“It strikes me, young gentleman, that you won’t get anything stronger,” he said. “Well, gentlemen, if you’ll all promise to abide by my rules, I’ll sayyes; you may go.”A long quiet conversation was afterwards held, and finally it was decided that quite half the men should go, and on the eve of the expedition the final preparations had been made, tents and stores had been sent ashore ready for a start at daybreak.The river had been scoured by the corvette’s boats, and no trace of Rajah Gantang’s prahus found; in fact, nothing had been heard of him or them for many days; and all being esteemed satisfactory and safe on that score, what remained to do was to settle who should stay and protect the residency and the corvette, and who should go.As far as the men were concerned, this was soon settled; for the order was given to fall in, and they were soon ranged in line, every man anxious in the extreme as to his fate. The next order was for the even numbered to take two paces back, and the next for the rear-rank men to fall out; they were the lucky ones, and in a high state of delight.With the officers it was more difficult. However, that was soon settled. Captain Horton said that he should go; and gave the corvette in charge of Lieutenant Johnson. Major Sandars followed his example by appointing Captain Smithers to the task of taking command of the fort; and to his great disgust Tom Long found that he was not to be of the select.The resident had not intended to go, but so pressing a request that he would come had arrived from the sultan, that he felt bound to make one of the party. On the eve of the start the principal talk was of the qualities and powers of the various rifles and shot guns that had been brought out to be cleaned and oiled.Tom Long was solacing himself out in the open air with a strong rank cigar that had been given him by a brother officer, and very poorly it made him feel. But he put that all down to the major’s account for depriving him of his treat.“I’ll be even with him, though,” he said, breaking out into the habit of talking aloud. “I won’t forget it.”The night was very dark and starless, and he stood leaning up against a tree, when he heard the splash of oars from the landing-place, a short sharp order, and then the rattling of a ring-bolt.“Some one from the steamer, I suppose,” he growled. “Gun borrowing, I’ll be bound. They don’t have mine, whoever wants it.”“Here you, sir,” said a familiar voice, as a figure came up through the darkness. “Where’s Major Sandars—at the officers’ quarters or the residency? Do you hear? Why don’t you speak?”“That path leads to the officers’ quarters, Mr Robert Roberts, and the other leads, as you well know, to the residency. Now go and find out for yourself, and don’t air your salt-junk bluster on shore.”“Salt-junk bluster be bothered,” said Bob sharply. “How the dickens was I to know it was you standing stuck-up against that tree like two tent poles in a roll of canvass? Here, I’ve come from the skipper to see if the major’s got any spare leggings, for fear of the noble captain getting any thorns in his legs.”“Hang the captain!” growled Tom.“Hang the major, then!” said Bob sharply.“You may hang them both, if you like,” said Tom.“I should like to kris them all over, till they looked like skewered chickens ready for the spit,” said Bob. “I say, ain’t it an awful shame?”“Shame, yes,” said Tom Long, slightly mollified by his companion’s sympathy. “I don’t see why one of us two should be left out of the party. It isn’t much pleasure we get.”“No,” said Bob sharply; “but I think if one of us was to go it ought to have been this young person.”“Well, but you are going, aren’t you?” said Tom Long.“Not I,” said Bob. “I’m second officer on board HMS ‘Startler’ till they come back, that’s all.”“But, my dear Bob, I thought you were going. Old Dick, who was ashore an hour ago, told me you were.”“Then old Dick told you a cram,” said Bob. “He said you were going, though.”“I’ll kick old Dick first time I see him,” cried Tom Long. “I’m not going. Smithers and I are to be in charge of the fort.”“You are not going?” cried Bob incredulously.“No!”“Oh, I am glad.”“Thanky,” said Tom.“No, I don’t mean that,” said Bob. “I mean I’m glad I’m not going, now you are not.”“I say, Bob, do you mean that?” said Tom Long excitedly, and dropping all his stiffness.“Of course I do,” said Bob. “What’s the fun of going without a friend?”“Bob, you’re a regular little brick,” said Tom Long. “Shake hands. ’Pon my word I shall end by liking you.”Bob shook hands, and laughed.“Oh, I say, though,” he exclaimed. “Poor old Ali! Won’t he be cut up, just?”“Yes, he won’t like it,” said Tom Long thoughtfully. “And he was to have a big elephant all ready for us.”“Yes,” said Bob. “But I say, I wonder we haven’t heard from him since that day he was here.”“Yes, he might have sent a message of some kind.”“He’s been up the country with a butterfly net to catch an elephant for us,” said Bob, laughing.“And now he’ll have it all to himself,” said Tom.“I’ll bet half a rupee that he don’t,” said Bob.“Oh, yes, he will,” said Tom. “I rather like him, though. He isn’t a bad sort of nigger.”“Don’t call the fellowsniggers,” said Bob impatiently; “they don’t like it.”“Then they mustn’t call usgiaoursanddogs,” said Tom impatiently.“Look here,” cried Bob, “I must go on after these leggings for the skipper; but, I say, Tom, as I said before, I’ll bet half a rupee that Ali don’t go to the hunt when he finds we are to stay.”“Stuff!”“Well, it may be stuff; but you see if he don’t stop behind, and, as soon as they are all off, come across here.”“I wish he would,” said Tom. “It’ll be dull enough.”“If he does, we’ll have a good turn at the fish,” said Bob. “Good night, if I don’t see you again.”“I say,” said Bob, turning round and speaking out of the darkness.“Well?”“I don’t wish ’em any harm; but I hope they won’t see a blessed tiger all the time they’re away.”“So do I,” said Tom. “Good night!”“Good night!” And Bob found the major; borrowed the pair of canvas leggings, with which he returned to the boat, and was rowed back to the corvette, where he had the pleasure of going over the captain’s shooting gear, and helping him to fill his cartridge cases, and the like.“You’ll have to go on a trip yourself Roberts, by-and-by,” said the captain.“Thank-ye, sir,” said Bob. “When, sir, please?”“When the soreness about rescuing those slave girls has worn off, Master Bob Roberts,” said the captain, smiling. “I can’t afford to have one of my most promising young officers krissed.”“All soft soap and flam,” said Bob to himself, as he went out on deck. “Promising officer, indeed. Well, he’s a promising officer, and I’ll keep him to his promise, too; and old Ali, and Tom, and I will have another day to ourselves.”

The day of the tiger-hunt was at last close at hand. A vast deal of communication and counter communication had taken place with the sultan, whose people were making great preparations for the event.

The sultan was constantly sending messengers, and asking that stores might be given him with plenty of ammunition. Not, though, in any mean begging spirit, for whenever a couple of his chiefs came with some request they were accompanied by a train of followers bearing presents—food, supplies of the finest rice, sugar-cane, and fruit; buffaloes and poultry; slabs of tin, little bags of gold dust, specimens of the native work; an abundance, in short, of useful and valuable things, all of which were accepted; though there was a grim feeling in the mind of Mr Linton that pretty well everything had been taken by force from some of the sultan’s miserable subjects.

Still the policy was, to be on the best of terms with the sultan, and to hope to introduce reforms in his rule by degrees. The resident took the old school copy-book moral into consideration, that example was better than precept, and knowing full well that any sweeping code of rules and regulations would produce distaste, certain hatred, and perhaps a rising against the English rule, he determined to introduce little improvements by degrees, each to be, he hoped, tiny seeds from which would grow grand and substantial trees.

The tiger-hunt was being prepared for evidently with childlike delight, and instead of its being a few hours’ expedition, it proved that it was to be an affair of a week. Tents were to be taken, huts to be formed, and quite a large district swept of the dangerous beasts. For as the sultan informed the English officers, the tigers had been unmolested for quite two years, and saving one or two taken in pitfalls, they had escaped almost scot free. The consequence of this was, that several poor Malays had been carried off from their rice-fields, and at least a dozen unfortunate Chinamen from the neighbourhood of some tin mines a few miles away.

“I never meant to enter into such an extensive affair, gentlemen,” said the resident to Major Sandars and Captain Horton after dinner one day, when they had all been entertained at the mess-room. “I almost think we ought to draw back before it is too late.”

“Well, I don’t know,” said Major Sandars. “It will please the sultan if we take a lot of men, and this is rather a stagnating life. I frankly tell you I should be very glad of the outing, and I am sure it would do good to the men.”

“I quite agree with you, Sandars,” said Captain Horton; and Bob Roberts and Tom Long, who were opposite one another at the bottom of the table, exchanged glances. “I want a change, and I should be glad to give my lads a turn up the country. Drill’s all very well, but it gets wearisome. What do you say, Smithers?”

“I must confess to being eager to go,” was the reply. “It seems to me the only gentleman who does not care for the trip is Mr Linton.”

“My dear fellow, you never made a greater mistake in your life,” said Mr Linton, laughing. “Nothing would please me better than to be off for a couple of months, with a brace of good rifles, and an elephant, with plenty of beaters. I could even manage to exist for three months without reading a report, or writing a despatch.”

Here there was a hearty laugh, and Mr Linton went on,—“There is one voice silent—the most important one, it seems to me. Come, doctor, what do you say? may we all go up the country and live in tents?”

“Hah!” said Doctor Bolter, “now you have me on the hip. I want to go myself; horribly.”

“Ha, ha, ha, ha!” laughed every one in chorus.

“I want to see those black monkeys like our friend Mr Bob Roberts has for a pet. I say I want to see them in their native state. I want to get a specimen of the pink rhinoceros, and some of theLongicorns.Nymphalis Calydoniais to be found here, and I must shoot a few specimens ofCymbirhynchus Macrorhynchus, besides supplying myhortus siccuswith a complete series ofNepenthes.”

“For goodness’ sake, doctor, don’t go on like that,” cried Captain Horton. “If you want to be cheerful to that extent, give us a recitation in pure Malay.”

“Ah, you may all laugh,” said the doctor; “but I’m not ashamed of being a modest naturalist.”

“Modest!” said Major Sandars. “Do you call that modest, to talk big like that? But come, tell us, may we go safely?”

“That’s what I can’t quite settle,” said the doctor. “I don’t know what to say to you. A week’s hunting picnic would be very nice.”

“Splendid,” said everybody.

“And you’d have a good supply of tents? I can’t have my men sleeping in the open air.”

“Abundance of everything,” said Major Sandars. “Regular commissariat stores—mess tent, and the rest of it.”

“Stop a minute,” said the doctor, “not so fast. You see, what I’m afraid of is fever.”

“We all are,” said Captain Horton. “Never mind, take a barrel and keep a strong solution of quinine always on tap for us. Now then, may we go? You see if it was on duty we shouldn’t study a moment, but as it’s a case of pleasuring—”

“And keeping up good relations with the sultan,” said the resident.

“And freeing the country from a pest,” said Captain Horton.

“Tigers are pests enough,” said the doctor, “but intermittent or jungle fever is to my mind the pest of the country.”

“Yes, of course, doctor,” said the resident; “but what do you think, may we go?”

The doctor sat tapping the table with a dessert knife.

“Will you all promise me faithfully not to drink a drop of water that has not been filtered?” he said.

“Yes, yes, yes,” came from all down the table.

“I’ll promise, doctor, not to drink any water at all,” said Bob Roberts in a low voice, that was heard, though, by the doctor.

“It strikes me, young gentleman, that you won’t get anything stronger,” he said. “Well, gentlemen, if you’ll all promise to abide by my rules, I’ll sayyes; you may go.”

A long quiet conversation was afterwards held, and finally it was decided that quite half the men should go, and on the eve of the expedition the final preparations had been made, tents and stores had been sent ashore ready for a start at daybreak.

The river had been scoured by the corvette’s boats, and no trace of Rajah Gantang’s prahus found; in fact, nothing had been heard of him or them for many days; and all being esteemed satisfactory and safe on that score, what remained to do was to settle who should stay and protect the residency and the corvette, and who should go.

As far as the men were concerned, this was soon settled; for the order was given to fall in, and they were soon ranged in line, every man anxious in the extreme as to his fate. The next order was for the even numbered to take two paces back, and the next for the rear-rank men to fall out; they were the lucky ones, and in a high state of delight.

With the officers it was more difficult. However, that was soon settled. Captain Horton said that he should go; and gave the corvette in charge of Lieutenant Johnson. Major Sandars followed his example by appointing Captain Smithers to the task of taking command of the fort; and to his great disgust Tom Long found that he was not to be of the select.

The resident had not intended to go, but so pressing a request that he would come had arrived from the sultan, that he felt bound to make one of the party. On the eve of the start the principal talk was of the qualities and powers of the various rifles and shot guns that had been brought out to be cleaned and oiled.

Tom Long was solacing himself out in the open air with a strong rank cigar that had been given him by a brother officer, and very poorly it made him feel. But he put that all down to the major’s account for depriving him of his treat.

“I’ll be even with him, though,” he said, breaking out into the habit of talking aloud. “I won’t forget it.”

The night was very dark and starless, and he stood leaning up against a tree, when he heard the splash of oars from the landing-place, a short sharp order, and then the rattling of a ring-bolt.

“Some one from the steamer, I suppose,” he growled. “Gun borrowing, I’ll be bound. They don’t have mine, whoever wants it.”

“Here you, sir,” said a familiar voice, as a figure came up through the darkness. “Where’s Major Sandars—at the officers’ quarters or the residency? Do you hear? Why don’t you speak?”

“That path leads to the officers’ quarters, Mr Robert Roberts, and the other leads, as you well know, to the residency. Now go and find out for yourself, and don’t air your salt-junk bluster on shore.”

“Salt-junk bluster be bothered,” said Bob sharply. “How the dickens was I to know it was you standing stuck-up against that tree like two tent poles in a roll of canvass? Here, I’ve come from the skipper to see if the major’s got any spare leggings, for fear of the noble captain getting any thorns in his legs.”

“Hang the captain!” growled Tom.

“Hang the major, then!” said Bob sharply.

“You may hang them both, if you like,” said Tom.

“I should like to kris them all over, till they looked like skewered chickens ready for the spit,” said Bob. “I say, ain’t it an awful shame?”

“Shame, yes,” said Tom Long, slightly mollified by his companion’s sympathy. “I don’t see why one of us two should be left out of the party. It isn’t much pleasure we get.”

“No,” said Bob sharply; “but I think if one of us was to go it ought to have been this young person.”

“Well, but you are going, aren’t you?” said Tom Long.

“Not I,” said Bob. “I’m second officer on board HMS ‘Startler’ till they come back, that’s all.”

“But, my dear Bob, I thought you were going. Old Dick, who was ashore an hour ago, told me you were.”

“Then old Dick told you a cram,” said Bob. “He said you were going, though.”

“I’ll kick old Dick first time I see him,” cried Tom Long. “I’m not going. Smithers and I are to be in charge of the fort.”

“You are not going?” cried Bob incredulously.

“No!”

“Oh, I am glad.”

“Thanky,” said Tom.

“No, I don’t mean that,” said Bob. “I mean I’m glad I’m not going, now you are not.”

“I say, Bob, do you mean that?” said Tom Long excitedly, and dropping all his stiffness.

“Of course I do,” said Bob. “What’s the fun of going without a friend?”

“Bob, you’re a regular little brick,” said Tom Long. “Shake hands. ’Pon my word I shall end by liking you.”

Bob shook hands, and laughed.

“Oh, I say, though,” he exclaimed. “Poor old Ali! Won’t he be cut up, just?”

“Yes, he won’t like it,” said Tom Long thoughtfully. “And he was to have a big elephant all ready for us.”

“Yes,” said Bob. “But I say, I wonder we haven’t heard from him since that day he was here.”

“Yes, he might have sent a message of some kind.”

“He’s been up the country with a butterfly net to catch an elephant for us,” said Bob, laughing.

“And now he’ll have it all to himself,” said Tom.

“I’ll bet half a rupee that he don’t,” said Bob.

“Oh, yes, he will,” said Tom. “I rather like him, though. He isn’t a bad sort of nigger.”

“Don’t call the fellowsniggers,” said Bob impatiently; “they don’t like it.”

“Then they mustn’t call usgiaoursanddogs,” said Tom impatiently.

“Look here,” cried Bob, “I must go on after these leggings for the skipper; but, I say, Tom, as I said before, I’ll bet half a rupee that Ali don’t go to the hunt when he finds we are to stay.”

“Stuff!”

“Well, it may be stuff; but you see if he don’t stop behind, and, as soon as they are all off, come across here.”

“I wish he would,” said Tom. “It’ll be dull enough.”

“If he does, we’ll have a good turn at the fish,” said Bob. “Good night, if I don’t see you again.”

“I say,” said Bob, turning round and speaking out of the darkness.

“Well?”

“I don’t wish ’em any harm; but I hope they won’t see a blessed tiger all the time they’re away.”

“So do I,” said Tom. “Good night!”

“Good night!” And Bob found the major; borrowed the pair of canvas leggings, with which he returned to the boat, and was rowed back to the corvette, where he had the pleasure of going over the captain’s shooting gear, and helping him to fill his cartridge cases, and the like.

“You’ll have to go on a trip yourself Roberts, by-and-by,” said the captain.

“Thank-ye, sir,” said Bob. “When, sir, please?”

“When the soreness about rescuing those slave girls has worn off, Master Bob Roberts,” said the captain, smiling. “I can’t afford to have one of my most promising young officers krissed.”

“All soft soap and flam,” said Bob to himself, as he went out on deck. “Promising officer, indeed. Well, he’s a promising officer, and I’ll keep him to his promise, too; and old Ali, and Tom, and I will have another day to ourselves.”

Chapter Thirty Two.How Mr Linton believed in a Precipice.It was a grand sight, and a stranger to the scene might have imagined that a little army was about to set off for the conquest of some petty king, instead of to attack the striped tiger in his stronghold.The two parties from the steamer and the island were ashore before daybreak, to find an imposing gathering of the sultan’s people coming down to meet them. There were over thirty elephants, large and small, with their attendants, and the beasts were furnished with showy cloths under their rattan basket howdahs.The sultan was there in English dress; and his chiefs made a gaudy muster, wearing showy silken sarongs and bajus, as if it were to be a review day instead of a hunting trip, while the following, to the extent of several hundreds, were all armed with spear and kris. Here and there a showily clad Malay was seen to be armed with a gun or rifle, but for the most part their means of offence were confined to the native weapons.The meeting was most cordial; but the sultan and his followers seemed somewhat taken aback to see the various officers in rough sporting costume, and the soldiers and sailors in anything but stiff, ordinary trim.One thing, however, had been rigidly adhered to. Every man was well-armed, and carried a good supply of ball cartridge.The sun was shining brightly, when at last the hunting-party was duly marshalled, and moved off right through the jungle by a well-beaten path, one which took them straight away from the river; and very effective the procession looked, with the great lumbering elephants moving so silently along, the gaily-dressed Malays forming bright patches of colour amidst the clean white duck frocks and trousers of the sailors, and the dull grey of the soldiers’ linen tunics. There was, of course, fraternisation, and a disposition on the part of the Malays to freely mix with the Englishmen then; but the order had been that a certain amount of formation was to be maintained, so that, if necessary, the men might be ready to gather at any time round their officers. Not that any difficulty was apprehended, but it was felt to be better to keep up discipline, even when only engaged upon a shooting-trip, though every act that might be interpreted by the Malays into a want of confidence was carefully avoided.The morning was sufficiently young as yet to enable a good march to be made without difficulty; but as the sun began to make his power felt wherever there was an opening amidst the trees, a halt was called in a beautiful park-like patch of ground, with huge spreading trees sufficient to shelter double their number. Here a capital lunch was served by the sultan’s cooks, one that no doubt an Englishchefwould have looked upon with contempt, but which, after a long morning tramp through the steaming heat of the jungle, was delightful.Every one was in excellent spirits, the sultan having set aside a great deal of his formality, and smiling apparently with pleasure as he gazed around at the gratified countenances of his guests.Then followed a siesta while the sun was at its greatest height, Doctor Bolter impressing upon all the officers that a quiet rest during the heat of the day was the one thing needful to make them bear the exertion of the journey; and then, as soon as he saw every one following his advice, he arranged his puggaree around his pith helmet, put some cartridges in his pocket, and went off into the jungle to shoot specimens, with no little success.Ten miles were got over that evening, and then camp was pitched on the edge of an opening, close by a curious rounded mountain, which towered up in front of the setting sun, looking massive and grand with its smooth outline thrown up, as it were, against the saffron sky.The scene was lovely in the extreme, and every touch given by the hunting-party seemed to add thereto, for white tents sprang up like magic against the dark green foliage; fires began to twinkle here and there; the large mess tent, that had been carried by one of the elephants, was well lit with lamps; and a white cloth spread with ample provisions and no few luxuries, ornamented by the freshly-cut flowers which grew in profusion, as if waiting to be cut by the servants, added no little to the brightness of the interior.Outside all was apparently picturesque confusion, though in reality everything was in due order, from the men’s tents to the ranging of the elephants, who, relieved of their loads, were quietly lifting up great bunches of grass and tucking them into their capacious jaws. Over all rose a loud hum of many voices, and soon to this was added the click of knives and forks from the English mess and the rattle of plates. Amongst the Malays great leaves did duty for the latter, and all was quieter.Later on, watch was set, the sultan and his officers smiling gravely at the precautions taken by the English, assuming though that it was against the wild beasts of the jungle, and hastening to assure all concerned that they need have no fear, for no tiger would approach so busy a camp, especially as there were fires burning, which would be kept up all night.“Let them think it’s the tigers, and that we are afraid of them, if they like,” said the doctor; “but I wouldn’t slacken discipline in the slightest degree. Keep everything going just as if we were going through an enemy’s country.”“I support that motion,” said the resident quietly.“But why?” said Captain Horton. “Surely we may relax a little now.”“No, Doctor Bolter is right,” said the major, nodding. “It’s a nuisance, Horton, of course, but you would not let your ship go without a good watch being set?”“Well—no,” said the captain thoughtfully, “I suppose not. We should keep that up even if we were in dock. Thank goodness, though! I have not any watch to keep to-night, for I’m tired as a dog.”“It has been a tiring day,” said Major Sandars. “I wonder how Smithers is getting on. I hope he’s taking care of the ladies.”“Yes,” said Mr Linton gravely, “I hope he is taking care of the ladies.”“They’re in good hands,” said Captain Horton. “Johnson is a sternish fellow, and,” he added laughing, “if any dangerous parties go near the island, Mr Midshipman Roberts will blow them right out of the water.”“Yes,” said Major Sandars, indulging in a low chuckle, “he and Mr Ensign Long between them would be a match for all the rajahs on the river.”Mr Linton was the only one who did not smile, for just then, like a foreboding cloud, the dark thought came across his mind that it would be very, very terrible if advantage were taken by the Malays of the absence of so large a portion of the force; and try how he would to sleep that night, the thought kept intruding, that after all they were doing wrong in trusting themselves with the Malay sultan, who might, under his assumption of hospitality, be hatching some nefarious scheme against them all.Through the thin canvas walls of the tent he could hear the low breathing of some of his friends, the snort of some elephant, and close by him there was the monotonous hum of the mosquitoes, trying hard to find a way through the fine gauze of the net; now and then came too an impatient muttering of a sleeper, or the distant cry of some creature in the jungle.The only solacing thing he heard in the heat of those weary sleepless hours was the steady beat of some sentry’s pace, and the click of his arms as he changed his piece from shoulder to shoulder.He was the only unquiet one, for the others fell asleep almost on the instant, and several of them gave loud signs of their peaceful occupation.At last Mr Linton could bear it no longer, and rising, he went softly to the tent door and peeped out, to pause there, wondering at the beauty of the scene, as the moon was just peering down over the jungle trees, and filling the camp with silvery light and black shadows. What was that glint of some arm?He smiled at his uneasiness directly after, for there was the sharp steady beat of feet, a sergeant’s guard came out of the black shadow, and he saw them relieve sentry, the glint he had seen being the moonbeams playing upon the soldier’s piece.He went back and lay down once more, feeling relieved, and falling off into a restful sleep, little thinking how that deadly peril was indeed hovering round the island he had left, and that he and his companions were going to march on and on, not to encounter tigers alone, but men even more cruel in their nature, and quite as free from remorse when dealing with those whom they looked upon as dogs.

It was a grand sight, and a stranger to the scene might have imagined that a little army was about to set off for the conquest of some petty king, instead of to attack the striped tiger in his stronghold.

The two parties from the steamer and the island were ashore before daybreak, to find an imposing gathering of the sultan’s people coming down to meet them. There were over thirty elephants, large and small, with their attendants, and the beasts were furnished with showy cloths under their rattan basket howdahs.

The sultan was there in English dress; and his chiefs made a gaudy muster, wearing showy silken sarongs and bajus, as if it were to be a review day instead of a hunting trip, while the following, to the extent of several hundreds, were all armed with spear and kris. Here and there a showily clad Malay was seen to be armed with a gun or rifle, but for the most part their means of offence were confined to the native weapons.

The meeting was most cordial; but the sultan and his followers seemed somewhat taken aback to see the various officers in rough sporting costume, and the soldiers and sailors in anything but stiff, ordinary trim.

One thing, however, had been rigidly adhered to. Every man was well-armed, and carried a good supply of ball cartridge.

The sun was shining brightly, when at last the hunting-party was duly marshalled, and moved off right through the jungle by a well-beaten path, one which took them straight away from the river; and very effective the procession looked, with the great lumbering elephants moving so silently along, the gaily-dressed Malays forming bright patches of colour amidst the clean white duck frocks and trousers of the sailors, and the dull grey of the soldiers’ linen tunics. There was, of course, fraternisation, and a disposition on the part of the Malays to freely mix with the Englishmen then; but the order had been that a certain amount of formation was to be maintained, so that, if necessary, the men might be ready to gather at any time round their officers. Not that any difficulty was apprehended, but it was felt to be better to keep up discipline, even when only engaged upon a shooting-trip, though every act that might be interpreted by the Malays into a want of confidence was carefully avoided.

The morning was sufficiently young as yet to enable a good march to be made without difficulty; but as the sun began to make his power felt wherever there was an opening amidst the trees, a halt was called in a beautiful park-like patch of ground, with huge spreading trees sufficient to shelter double their number. Here a capital lunch was served by the sultan’s cooks, one that no doubt an Englishchefwould have looked upon with contempt, but which, after a long morning tramp through the steaming heat of the jungle, was delightful.

Every one was in excellent spirits, the sultan having set aside a great deal of his formality, and smiling apparently with pleasure as he gazed around at the gratified countenances of his guests.

Then followed a siesta while the sun was at its greatest height, Doctor Bolter impressing upon all the officers that a quiet rest during the heat of the day was the one thing needful to make them bear the exertion of the journey; and then, as soon as he saw every one following his advice, he arranged his puggaree around his pith helmet, put some cartridges in his pocket, and went off into the jungle to shoot specimens, with no little success.

Ten miles were got over that evening, and then camp was pitched on the edge of an opening, close by a curious rounded mountain, which towered up in front of the setting sun, looking massive and grand with its smooth outline thrown up, as it were, against the saffron sky.

The scene was lovely in the extreme, and every touch given by the hunting-party seemed to add thereto, for white tents sprang up like magic against the dark green foliage; fires began to twinkle here and there; the large mess tent, that had been carried by one of the elephants, was well lit with lamps; and a white cloth spread with ample provisions and no few luxuries, ornamented by the freshly-cut flowers which grew in profusion, as if waiting to be cut by the servants, added no little to the brightness of the interior.

Outside all was apparently picturesque confusion, though in reality everything was in due order, from the men’s tents to the ranging of the elephants, who, relieved of their loads, were quietly lifting up great bunches of grass and tucking them into their capacious jaws. Over all rose a loud hum of many voices, and soon to this was added the click of knives and forks from the English mess and the rattle of plates. Amongst the Malays great leaves did duty for the latter, and all was quieter.

Later on, watch was set, the sultan and his officers smiling gravely at the precautions taken by the English, assuming though that it was against the wild beasts of the jungle, and hastening to assure all concerned that they need have no fear, for no tiger would approach so busy a camp, especially as there were fires burning, which would be kept up all night.

“Let them think it’s the tigers, and that we are afraid of them, if they like,” said the doctor; “but I wouldn’t slacken discipline in the slightest degree. Keep everything going just as if we were going through an enemy’s country.”

“I support that motion,” said the resident quietly.

“But why?” said Captain Horton. “Surely we may relax a little now.”

“No, Doctor Bolter is right,” said the major, nodding. “It’s a nuisance, Horton, of course, but you would not let your ship go without a good watch being set?”

“Well—no,” said the captain thoughtfully, “I suppose not. We should keep that up even if we were in dock. Thank goodness, though! I have not any watch to keep to-night, for I’m tired as a dog.”

“It has been a tiring day,” said Major Sandars. “I wonder how Smithers is getting on. I hope he’s taking care of the ladies.”

“Yes,” said Mr Linton gravely, “I hope he is taking care of the ladies.”

“They’re in good hands,” said Captain Horton. “Johnson is a sternish fellow, and,” he added laughing, “if any dangerous parties go near the island, Mr Midshipman Roberts will blow them right out of the water.”

“Yes,” said Major Sandars, indulging in a low chuckle, “he and Mr Ensign Long between them would be a match for all the rajahs on the river.”

Mr Linton was the only one who did not smile, for just then, like a foreboding cloud, the dark thought came across his mind that it would be very, very terrible if advantage were taken by the Malays of the absence of so large a portion of the force; and try how he would to sleep that night, the thought kept intruding, that after all they were doing wrong in trusting themselves with the Malay sultan, who might, under his assumption of hospitality, be hatching some nefarious scheme against them all.

Through the thin canvas walls of the tent he could hear the low breathing of some of his friends, the snort of some elephant, and close by him there was the monotonous hum of the mosquitoes, trying hard to find a way through the fine gauze of the net; now and then came too an impatient muttering of a sleeper, or the distant cry of some creature in the jungle.

The only solacing thing he heard in the heat of those weary sleepless hours was the steady beat of some sentry’s pace, and the click of his arms as he changed his piece from shoulder to shoulder.

He was the only unquiet one, for the others fell asleep almost on the instant, and several of them gave loud signs of their peaceful occupation.

At last Mr Linton could bear it no longer, and rising, he went softly to the tent door and peeped out, to pause there, wondering at the beauty of the scene, as the moon was just peering down over the jungle trees, and filling the camp with silvery light and black shadows. What was that glint of some arm?

He smiled at his uneasiness directly after, for there was the sharp steady beat of feet, a sergeant’s guard came out of the black shadow, and he saw them relieve sentry, the glint he had seen being the moonbeams playing upon the soldier’s piece.

He went back and lay down once more, feeling relieved, and falling off into a restful sleep, little thinking how that deadly peril was indeed hovering round the island he had left, and that he and his companions were going to march on and on, not to encounter tigers alone, but men even more cruel in their nature, and quite as free from remorse when dealing with those whom they looked upon as dogs.

Chapter Thirty Three.Private Gray has his Orders.The men on the corvette, with those who rowed back the empty boats, gave a loud cheer, which was answered from the island, as the hunting-party moved off in procession.“Give them another, my lads,” cried Bob Roberts excitedly; and the sailors, with whom he was a special favourite, responded heartily.“Just another, my lads, to show them we are not a bit envious,” cried Bob; and then another prolonged “Hurrah!” went up in the morning skies, the middy shouting with the best of them; and it was amusing to see Bob’s calm, consequential ways as he stood there, completely ignoring Lieutenant Johnson, and taking upon himself the full command of the ship.He glanced up aloft, and his look threatened an order to man the yards, when the lieutenant interfered.“I think that will do, Mr Roberts,” he said quietly, and Bob was taken rather aback.“Yes, of course, sir,” he said, “but the men are already loaded with a cheer, hadn’t they better let it off?”Lieutenant Johnson gazed full in the lad’s face, half sternly, half amused at his quaint idea, and then nodded. Then there was another stentorian cheer, and what seemed like its echo from the island, when Bob smiled his satisfaction, strutting about the quarter-deck as he exclaimed,—“We can beat the soldiers hollow at cheering, sir, can’t we?”“Yes, Mr Roberts,” said the lieutenant quietly; and then to the warrant officer near him, “Pipe down to breakfast, Mr Law; the men must want it.”“I know one man who wants his,” said Bob, half aloud; and then he stared wistfully after the tail of the departing expedition, as the sun glinted on the spears, and a very dismal sensation of disappointment came over him.“You’ll make a good officer some day, Roberts,” said the lieutenant, and Bob started, for he did not know he was so near.“Thank you, sir—for the compliment,” said Bob.“But at present, my lad, you do imitate the bantam cock to such an extent that it irritates grown men.”“Do I, sir?” said Bob.“You do indeed, my lad,” said the lieutenant kindly.“But I don’t want to, sir, for nothing worries me more than to see Ensign Long coming all that strut and show off.”“Well, we won’t quarrel about it, Roberts,” said Lieutenant Johnson kindly. “You’ll grow out of it in time. As it is, I’m captain for a few days, and you are my first lieutenant. So first lieutenant,” he continued, clapping the lad on the shoulder, “come down and breakfast with me in the cabin, and we’ll talk matters over.”Bob flushed with pleasure, and if the lieutenant had asked him to jump overboard just then, or stand on his head on the main truck, Bob would have tried to oblige him.As it was, however, he followed his officer into the cabin, and made a hearty breakfast.“I tell you what,” said the lieutenant, who was a very quiet stern young officer—and he stopped short.“Yes, captain,” said Bob.Lieutenant Johnson smiled.“I tell you what,” he said again, “nothing would give me greater pleasure than for Mr Rajah Gantang to bring down his prahus some time to-day, Lieutenant Roberts. I could blow that fellow out of the water with the greatest pleasure in life.”“Captain Johnson,” said Bob, solemnly, “I could blow him in again with greater pleasure, for I haven’t forgotten my swim for life.”“You feel quite a spite against him then, Roberts?”“Spite’s nothing to it,” said Bob. “Didn’t he and his people force me, a harmless, unoffending young fellow—”“As ever contrived to board a prahu,” said the lieutenant.“Ah, well, that wasn’t my doing,” said Bob. “I was ordered to do my duty, and tried to do it. That was no reason why those chicory-brown rascals should cause me to be pitched into the river to the tender mercies of the crocodiles, who, I believe, shed tears because they couldn’t catch me.”“Well, Roberts,” said the lieutenant, “you need not make yourself uncomfortable, nor set up the bantam cock hackles round your neck, and you need not go to the grindstone to sharpen your spurs, for we shall not have the luck to see anything of the rajah, who by this time knows that it is his best policy to keep out of the way. Will you take any more breakfast?”“No, thank you, sir,” said Bob, rising, for this was a hint to go about his business; and he went on deck.“Mornin’, sir,” said old Dick, pulling at his forelock, and giving one leg a kick out behind.“Morning, Dick. Don’t you wish you were along with the hunting-party?”Old Dick walked to the side, sprinkled the water with a little tobacco juice, and came back.“That’s the same colour as them Malay chaps, sir,” he said, “nasty dirty beggars.”“Dirty, Dick? Why they are always bathing and swimming.”“Yes,” said Dick in a tone of disgust, “but they never use no soap.”“Well, what of that?” said Bob. “You don’t suppose that makes any difference?”“Makes no difference?” said the old sailor; “why it makes all the difference, sir. When I was a young ’un, my old mother used to lather the yaller soap over my young head till it looked like a yeast tub in a baker’s cellar. Lor’ a mussy! the way she used to shove the soap in my eyes and ears and work her fingers round in ’em, was a startler. She’d wash, and scrub, and rasp away, and then swab me dry with a rough towel—and it was a rough ’un, mind yer—till I shone again. Why, I was as white as a lily where I wasn’t pink; and a young lady as come to stay at the squire’s, down in our parts, blessed if she didn’t put me in a picter she was painting, and call me a village beauty. It’s the soap as does it, and a rale love of cleanliness. Bah, look at ’em! They’re just about the colour o’ gingerbread; while look at me!”Bob looked at the old fellow searchingly, to see if he was joking, and then finding that he was perfectly sincere, the middy burst into a hearty roar of laughter.For long years of exposure to sun and storm had burned and stained Dick into a mahogany brown, warmed up with red of the richest crimson. In fact, a Malay had rather the advantage of him in point of colour.“Ah, you may laugh,” he growled. “I dessay, sir, you thinks it’s werry funny; but if you was to go and well soap a young Malay he’d come precious different, I can tell you.”“But somebody did try to wash a blackamoor white,” said Bob. “Tom Hood says so, in one of his books.”“Well, and did they get him white, sir?” asked Dick.“No, I think not,” said Bob. “I almost forget, but I think they gave him such a bad cold that he died.”“That Tom Hood—was he any relation o’ Admiral Hood, sir?”“No, I think not, Dick.”“Then he wasn’t much account being a landsman, I s’pose, and he didn’t understand what he was about. He didn’t use plenty o’ soap.”“Oh yes, he did, Dick; because I remember he says, a lady gave some:—“Mrs Hope,A bar of soap.”“Then they didn’t lather it well,” said Dick decisively. “And it shows how ignorant they was when they let’s the poor chap ketch cold arter it, and die. Why, bless your ’art, Mr Roberts, sir, if my old mother had had the job, he’d have had no cold. He’d have come out red hot, all of a glow, like as I used, and as white as a lily, or she’d have had all his skin off him.”“And so you really believe you could wash these Malay chaps white?”“I do, sir. I’d holystone ’em till they was.”“It would be a long job, Dick,” said Bob laughing. “But I say, don’t you wish you had gone with the hunting-party?”“Yah!” said Dick, assuming a look of great disgust and contempt, although he had been growling and acting, as his mates said, like a bear with a sore head, because he could not go. “Not I, sir, not I. Why, what have they gone to do? Shoot a big cat all brown stripes. I don’t want to spend my time ketching cats. What’s the good on ’em when they’ve got ’em? Only to take their skins. Now there is some sense in a bit of fishing.”“Especially when your crew in the boat goes to sleep, and let’s you be surprised by the Malays.”“Ah, but don’t you see, sir,” said Dick, with his eyes twinkling, “that’s a kind o’ moral lesson for a young officer? Here was the case you see: the skipper goes to sleep, and don’t look after his crew, who, nat’rally enough, thinks what the skipper does must be right, and they does the same.”“Oh! all right, master Dick,” said the middy. “I’ll take the lesson to heart. Don’t you ever let me catch you asleep, that’s all.”“No, sir,” said the old sailor, grinning, “I won’t. I’ve got too much of the weasel in me. But as I was saying, sir, there’s some sense in a bit o’ fishing, and I thought if so be you liked I’d get the lines ready.”“No, Dick, no,” said Bob, firmly, as he recalled Lieutenant Johnson’s words over the breakfast-table. “I’ve no time for fishing to-day. And besides, I’m in charge of the ship.”“Oh! indeed, sir,” said Dick. “I beg pardon, sir.”“Look here, Dick,” said Bob sharply, “don’t you sneer at your officer because he makes free with you sometimes.”The middy turned and walked off, leaving Dick cutting himself a fresh plug of tobacco.“He’ll make a smart ’un by-and-by, that he will,” muttered the old fellow, nodding his head admiringly; “and I’m sorry I said what I did to the high-sperretted little chap, for he’s made of the real stuff, after all.”On the island, Tom Long was feeling quite as important as the middy. A keen sense of disappointment was troubling him, but he would not show it. He had several times over been looking at his gun, and thinking that it would carry a bullet as well as a rifle, and wishing that he could have game to try it. But soon afterwards he encountered pleasant Mrs Major Sandars.“Ah! Mr Long,” she cried, “I’ve just been seeing Miss Linton and Miss Sinclair. Now you know you have these deserted ladies and the whole of the women under your charge, and I hope you’ll protect us.”“I shall do my utmost, madam,” said Tom Long importantly. “You ladies needn’t be under the smallest apprehension, for you will be as safe as if the major and Mr Linton were here.”“I shall tell Miss Linton so,” said Mrs Major, smiling; and she nodded and went away, leaving the young ensign uncomfortable, as he felt a kind of suspicion that he had been speaking very consequentially, and making himself absurd.“I wish I was either a man or a boy,” he said to himself pettishly. “I feel just like a man, and yet people will treat me as if I were a boy. That Mrs Major was only talking to me patronisingly, and half-laughing at me. I can see it now. Oh! here’s Smithers.”Captain Smithers came up, looking rather careworn and sad, and nodded in a friendly way at his junior.“Well, Long,” he said, “so we are commanders-in-chief just now. At least, I am. You’ll have to be my colonel, major, and adjutant, all in one.”“I shall do my best to help you, Captain Smithers,” said Tom Long stiffly.“I know you will, my lad,” was the reply; “but it will be no child’s play, for we must be extra strict and watchful.”“Do you think there is anything to fear, Captain Smithers,” said the ensign eagerly.“To fear? No, Mr Long,” said the captain. “We are English officers, and, as such, never mention such a thing; but there is a good deal to be anxious about—I mean the safety of all here.”“But you have no suspicion, sir—of danger?”“Not the slightest. Still we will be as careful as if I felt sure that an enemy was close at hand.”There was something about thatwethat was very pleasant to the young ensign; and his heart warmed like a flower in sunshine.“Of course, sir,” he said eagerly. “I’ll do the best I can.”“Thank you, Long, I am sure you will,” said Captain Smithers. “By the way, you know, of course, that the ladies are coming to stay with Mrs Major, so that there will not be much cause for anxiety about the residency. Suppose we now take a quiet look round together; there is really no necessity, but we will go as a matter of duty.”Tom Long’s self-esteem was flattered, the more especially as he could see that Captain Smithers was perfectly sincere, and looked to him, in all confidence, for aid in a time when a great responsibility was thrown upon his shoulders.“If I don’t let him see that I can act like a man, my name’s not Long,” he muttered to himself, as they walked on together.“There’s only—”Captain Smithers, who was speaking, stopped short, and the ensign stared.“I do not want to offend you, Long,” he said, “but all I say to you is in strict confidence now, and you must be careful what you repeat.”“You may trust me, Captain Smithers,” said the ensign quietly.“Yes, I am sure I may,” was the reply. “Look here, then. I was going to say that the only weak point in our arrangements here seems to be that!”He nodded his head in the direction in which they were going, and the ensign stared.“I mean about allowing that Malay, Abdullah, to set up his tent among us. He has such freedom of communicating with the banks of the river on both sides. He is a man, too, whom I rather distrust.”“Indeed?” said Long.“Yes, I don’t know why. But unless for some good and sufficient reason it would, I think, be bad policy to attempt to oust him.”“Yes,” calmly said Long. “He is a violent fellow, too;” and he related the incident about their first meeting.“If the major had known of this,” said Captain Smithers, “he would never have allowed the man to settle here. You did wrong in not speaking of it, Long.”“He was so apologetic and gentlemanly afterwards,” said the ensign, “that I did not care to speak about it, and upset the fellow’s plans.”“Well, it is too late to talk about it now,” replied Captain Smithers; “but I shall have his actions quietly watched. Let me see, who will be the man?”“There’s Private Gray yonder,” suggested the ensign.“I hate Private Gray!” exclaimed Captain Smithers, with a sudden burst of rage, of which he seemed to be ashamed the next moment, for he said hastily,—“It is a foolish antipathy, for Gray is a good, staunch man;” and making an effort to master himself, he made a sign to Gray to come to them.“You are right, Long; Gray is the man. He is to be trusted.”The private came up, and stiffly saluted his officers, standing at attention.“Gray,” said Captain Smithers, “I want you to undertake a little task for me.”“Yes, sir.”“You will be off regular duty; another man will take your place. I want you, in a quiet, unostentatious manner, to keep an eye on Abdullah the fruit-seller. Don’t let him suspect that you are watching him, for really there may be no cause; but he is the only native here who has free access to the island, and during the major’s absence I wish to be especially strict.”“Yes, sir.”“You understand me? I trust entirely to your good sense and discrimination. You will do what you have to do in a quiet way, and report everything—even to the least suspicious proceeding—to me.”“Yes, sir.”“You shall be furnished with a permit, to pass you anywhere, and at all times.”“Thank you, sir.”“I’d go in undress uniform, and apparently without arms, but have a bayonet and a revolver under your jacket.”“Do you think there is danger, sir?” exclaimed the private hastily, forgetting himself for the moment.“Private Gray, you have your orders.”Gray drew himself up stiffly and saluted.“Begin at once, sir?”“At once,” said Captain Smithers. “I trust to your silence. No one but Mr Long knows of your mission.”Gray saluted again and went off, while the two officers continued their walk towards Dullah’s hut.The Malay came out as they approached, and with a deprecating gesture invited them to take a seat beneath his verandah and partake of fruit.This, however, they declined to do, contenting themselves with returning his salute, and passing on.There were two sampans moored close to Dullah’s hut, each holding four Malays, but the boats themselves were filled with produce piled high, and the owners were evidently waiting to have dealings with their superior, the man who had been appointed to supply the English garrison of the island and the ship.There was nothing suspicious to be seen here, neither did anything attract their attention as they continued their walk right round the island, everything being as calm and still as the sleepy shore which lay baking beneath the ardent rays of the sun, while the various houses looked comparatively cool beneath the shade of the palms and durian trees, with here and there a great ragged-leaved banana showing a huge bunch of its strange fruit.Tired and hot, they were glad to return to their quarters, where Sergeant Lund was writing out a report, and occasionally frowning at Private Sim, who was lying under a tree fast asleep.

The men on the corvette, with those who rowed back the empty boats, gave a loud cheer, which was answered from the island, as the hunting-party moved off in procession.

“Give them another, my lads,” cried Bob Roberts excitedly; and the sailors, with whom he was a special favourite, responded heartily.

“Just another, my lads, to show them we are not a bit envious,” cried Bob; and then another prolonged “Hurrah!” went up in the morning skies, the middy shouting with the best of them; and it was amusing to see Bob’s calm, consequential ways as he stood there, completely ignoring Lieutenant Johnson, and taking upon himself the full command of the ship.

He glanced up aloft, and his look threatened an order to man the yards, when the lieutenant interfered.

“I think that will do, Mr Roberts,” he said quietly, and Bob was taken rather aback.

“Yes, of course, sir,” he said, “but the men are already loaded with a cheer, hadn’t they better let it off?”

Lieutenant Johnson gazed full in the lad’s face, half sternly, half amused at his quaint idea, and then nodded. Then there was another stentorian cheer, and what seemed like its echo from the island, when Bob smiled his satisfaction, strutting about the quarter-deck as he exclaimed,—“We can beat the soldiers hollow at cheering, sir, can’t we?”

“Yes, Mr Roberts,” said the lieutenant quietly; and then to the warrant officer near him, “Pipe down to breakfast, Mr Law; the men must want it.”

“I know one man who wants his,” said Bob, half aloud; and then he stared wistfully after the tail of the departing expedition, as the sun glinted on the spears, and a very dismal sensation of disappointment came over him.

“You’ll make a good officer some day, Roberts,” said the lieutenant, and Bob started, for he did not know he was so near.

“Thank you, sir—for the compliment,” said Bob.

“But at present, my lad, you do imitate the bantam cock to such an extent that it irritates grown men.”

“Do I, sir?” said Bob.

“You do indeed, my lad,” said the lieutenant kindly.

“But I don’t want to, sir, for nothing worries me more than to see Ensign Long coming all that strut and show off.”

“Well, we won’t quarrel about it, Roberts,” said Lieutenant Johnson kindly. “You’ll grow out of it in time. As it is, I’m captain for a few days, and you are my first lieutenant. So first lieutenant,” he continued, clapping the lad on the shoulder, “come down and breakfast with me in the cabin, and we’ll talk matters over.”

Bob flushed with pleasure, and if the lieutenant had asked him to jump overboard just then, or stand on his head on the main truck, Bob would have tried to oblige him.

As it was, however, he followed his officer into the cabin, and made a hearty breakfast.

“I tell you what,” said the lieutenant, who was a very quiet stern young officer—and he stopped short.

“Yes, captain,” said Bob.

Lieutenant Johnson smiled.

“I tell you what,” he said again, “nothing would give me greater pleasure than for Mr Rajah Gantang to bring down his prahus some time to-day, Lieutenant Roberts. I could blow that fellow out of the water with the greatest pleasure in life.”

“Captain Johnson,” said Bob, solemnly, “I could blow him in again with greater pleasure, for I haven’t forgotten my swim for life.”

“You feel quite a spite against him then, Roberts?”

“Spite’s nothing to it,” said Bob. “Didn’t he and his people force me, a harmless, unoffending young fellow—”

“As ever contrived to board a prahu,” said the lieutenant.

“Ah, well, that wasn’t my doing,” said Bob. “I was ordered to do my duty, and tried to do it. That was no reason why those chicory-brown rascals should cause me to be pitched into the river to the tender mercies of the crocodiles, who, I believe, shed tears because they couldn’t catch me.”

“Well, Roberts,” said the lieutenant, “you need not make yourself uncomfortable, nor set up the bantam cock hackles round your neck, and you need not go to the grindstone to sharpen your spurs, for we shall not have the luck to see anything of the rajah, who by this time knows that it is his best policy to keep out of the way. Will you take any more breakfast?”

“No, thank you, sir,” said Bob, rising, for this was a hint to go about his business; and he went on deck.

“Mornin’, sir,” said old Dick, pulling at his forelock, and giving one leg a kick out behind.

“Morning, Dick. Don’t you wish you were along with the hunting-party?”

Old Dick walked to the side, sprinkled the water with a little tobacco juice, and came back.

“That’s the same colour as them Malay chaps, sir,” he said, “nasty dirty beggars.”

“Dirty, Dick? Why they are always bathing and swimming.”

“Yes,” said Dick in a tone of disgust, “but they never use no soap.”

“Well, what of that?” said Bob. “You don’t suppose that makes any difference?”

“Makes no difference?” said the old sailor; “why it makes all the difference, sir. When I was a young ’un, my old mother used to lather the yaller soap over my young head till it looked like a yeast tub in a baker’s cellar. Lor’ a mussy! the way she used to shove the soap in my eyes and ears and work her fingers round in ’em, was a startler. She’d wash, and scrub, and rasp away, and then swab me dry with a rough towel—and it was a rough ’un, mind yer—till I shone again. Why, I was as white as a lily where I wasn’t pink; and a young lady as come to stay at the squire’s, down in our parts, blessed if she didn’t put me in a picter she was painting, and call me a village beauty. It’s the soap as does it, and a rale love of cleanliness. Bah, look at ’em! They’re just about the colour o’ gingerbread; while look at me!”

Bob looked at the old fellow searchingly, to see if he was joking, and then finding that he was perfectly sincere, the middy burst into a hearty roar of laughter.

For long years of exposure to sun and storm had burned and stained Dick into a mahogany brown, warmed up with red of the richest crimson. In fact, a Malay had rather the advantage of him in point of colour.

“Ah, you may laugh,” he growled. “I dessay, sir, you thinks it’s werry funny; but if you was to go and well soap a young Malay he’d come precious different, I can tell you.”

“But somebody did try to wash a blackamoor white,” said Bob. “Tom Hood says so, in one of his books.”

“Well, and did they get him white, sir?” asked Dick.

“No, I think not,” said Bob. “I almost forget, but I think they gave him such a bad cold that he died.”

“That Tom Hood—was he any relation o’ Admiral Hood, sir?”

“No, I think not, Dick.”

“Then he wasn’t much account being a landsman, I s’pose, and he didn’t understand what he was about. He didn’t use plenty o’ soap.”

“Oh yes, he did, Dick; because I remember he says, a lady gave some:—

“Mrs Hope,A bar of soap.”

“Mrs Hope,A bar of soap.”

“Then they didn’t lather it well,” said Dick decisively. “And it shows how ignorant they was when they let’s the poor chap ketch cold arter it, and die. Why, bless your ’art, Mr Roberts, sir, if my old mother had had the job, he’d have had no cold. He’d have come out red hot, all of a glow, like as I used, and as white as a lily, or she’d have had all his skin off him.”

“And so you really believe you could wash these Malay chaps white?”

“I do, sir. I’d holystone ’em till they was.”

“It would be a long job, Dick,” said Bob laughing. “But I say, don’t you wish you had gone with the hunting-party?”

“Yah!” said Dick, assuming a look of great disgust and contempt, although he had been growling and acting, as his mates said, like a bear with a sore head, because he could not go. “Not I, sir, not I. Why, what have they gone to do? Shoot a big cat all brown stripes. I don’t want to spend my time ketching cats. What’s the good on ’em when they’ve got ’em? Only to take their skins. Now there is some sense in a bit of fishing.”

“Especially when your crew in the boat goes to sleep, and let’s you be surprised by the Malays.”

“Ah, but don’t you see, sir,” said Dick, with his eyes twinkling, “that’s a kind o’ moral lesson for a young officer? Here was the case you see: the skipper goes to sleep, and don’t look after his crew, who, nat’rally enough, thinks what the skipper does must be right, and they does the same.”

“Oh! all right, master Dick,” said the middy. “I’ll take the lesson to heart. Don’t you ever let me catch you asleep, that’s all.”

“No, sir,” said the old sailor, grinning, “I won’t. I’ve got too much of the weasel in me. But as I was saying, sir, there’s some sense in a bit o’ fishing, and I thought if so be you liked I’d get the lines ready.”

“No, Dick, no,” said Bob, firmly, as he recalled Lieutenant Johnson’s words over the breakfast-table. “I’ve no time for fishing to-day. And besides, I’m in charge of the ship.”

“Oh! indeed, sir,” said Dick. “I beg pardon, sir.”

“Look here, Dick,” said Bob sharply, “don’t you sneer at your officer because he makes free with you sometimes.”

The middy turned and walked off, leaving Dick cutting himself a fresh plug of tobacco.

“He’ll make a smart ’un by-and-by, that he will,” muttered the old fellow, nodding his head admiringly; “and I’m sorry I said what I did to the high-sperretted little chap, for he’s made of the real stuff, after all.”

On the island, Tom Long was feeling quite as important as the middy. A keen sense of disappointment was troubling him, but he would not show it. He had several times over been looking at his gun, and thinking that it would carry a bullet as well as a rifle, and wishing that he could have game to try it. But soon afterwards he encountered pleasant Mrs Major Sandars.

“Ah! Mr Long,” she cried, “I’ve just been seeing Miss Linton and Miss Sinclair. Now you know you have these deserted ladies and the whole of the women under your charge, and I hope you’ll protect us.”

“I shall do my utmost, madam,” said Tom Long importantly. “You ladies needn’t be under the smallest apprehension, for you will be as safe as if the major and Mr Linton were here.”

“I shall tell Miss Linton so,” said Mrs Major, smiling; and she nodded and went away, leaving the young ensign uncomfortable, as he felt a kind of suspicion that he had been speaking very consequentially, and making himself absurd.

“I wish I was either a man or a boy,” he said to himself pettishly. “I feel just like a man, and yet people will treat me as if I were a boy. That Mrs Major was only talking to me patronisingly, and half-laughing at me. I can see it now. Oh! here’s Smithers.”

Captain Smithers came up, looking rather careworn and sad, and nodded in a friendly way at his junior.

“Well, Long,” he said, “so we are commanders-in-chief just now. At least, I am. You’ll have to be my colonel, major, and adjutant, all in one.”

“I shall do my best to help you, Captain Smithers,” said Tom Long stiffly.

“I know you will, my lad,” was the reply; “but it will be no child’s play, for we must be extra strict and watchful.”

“Do you think there is anything to fear, Captain Smithers,” said the ensign eagerly.

“To fear? No, Mr Long,” said the captain. “We are English officers, and, as such, never mention such a thing; but there is a good deal to be anxious about—I mean the safety of all here.”

“But you have no suspicion, sir—of danger?”

“Not the slightest. Still we will be as careful as if I felt sure that an enemy was close at hand.”

There was something about thatwethat was very pleasant to the young ensign; and his heart warmed like a flower in sunshine.

“Of course, sir,” he said eagerly. “I’ll do the best I can.”

“Thank you, Long, I am sure you will,” said Captain Smithers. “By the way, you know, of course, that the ladies are coming to stay with Mrs Major, so that there will not be much cause for anxiety about the residency. Suppose we now take a quiet look round together; there is really no necessity, but we will go as a matter of duty.”

Tom Long’s self-esteem was flattered, the more especially as he could see that Captain Smithers was perfectly sincere, and looked to him, in all confidence, for aid in a time when a great responsibility was thrown upon his shoulders.

“If I don’t let him see that I can act like a man, my name’s not Long,” he muttered to himself, as they walked on together.

“There’s only—”

Captain Smithers, who was speaking, stopped short, and the ensign stared.

“I do not want to offend you, Long,” he said, “but all I say to you is in strict confidence now, and you must be careful what you repeat.”

“You may trust me, Captain Smithers,” said the ensign quietly.

“Yes, I am sure I may,” was the reply. “Look here, then. I was going to say that the only weak point in our arrangements here seems to be that!”

He nodded his head in the direction in which they were going, and the ensign stared.

“I mean about allowing that Malay, Abdullah, to set up his tent among us. He has such freedom of communicating with the banks of the river on both sides. He is a man, too, whom I rather distrust.”

“Indeed?” said Long.

“Yes, I don’t know why. But unless for some good and sufficient reason it would, I think, be bad policy to attempt to oust him.”

“Yes,” calmly said Long. “He is a violent fellow, too;” and he related the incident about their first meeting.

“If the major had known of this,” said Captain Smithers, “he would never have allowed the man to settle here. You did wrong in not speaking of it, Long.”

“He was so apologetic and gentlemanly afterwards,” said the ensign, “that I did not care to speak about it, and upset the fellow’s plans.”

“Well, it is too late to talk about it now,” replied Captain Smithers; “but I shall have his actions quietly watched. Let me see, who will be the man?”

“There’s Private Gray yonder,” suggested the ensign.

“I hate Private Gray!” exclaimed Captain Smithers, with a sudden burst of rage, of which he seemed to be ashamed the next moment, for he said hastily,—“It is a foolish antipathy, for Gray is a good, staunch man;” and making an effort to master himself, he made a sign to Gray to come to them.

“You are right, Long; Gray is the man. He is to be trusted.”

The private came up, and stiffly saluted his officers, standing at attention.

“Gray,” said Captain Smithers, “I want you to undertake a little task for me.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You will be off regular duty; another man will take your place. I want you, in a quiet, unostentatious manner, to keep an eye on Abdullah the fruit-seller. Don’t let him suspect that you are watching him, for really there may be no cause; but he is the only native here who has free access to the island, and during the major’s absence I wish to be especially strict.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You understand me? I trust entirely to your good sense and discrimination. You will do what you have to do in a quiet way, and report everything—even to the least suspicious proceeding—to me.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You shall be furnished with a permit, to pass you anywhere, and at all times.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I’d go in undress uniform, and apparently without arms, but have a bayonet and a revolver under your jacket.”

“Do you think there is danger, sir?” exclaimed the private hastily, forgetting himself for the moment.

“Private Gray, you have your orders.”

Gray drew himself up stiffly and saluted.

“Begin at once, sir?”

“At once,” said Captain Smithers. “I trust to your silence. No one but Mr Long knows of your mission.”

Gray saluted again and went off, while the two officers continued their walk towards Dullah’s hut.

The Malay came out as they approached, and with a deprecating gesture invited them to take a seat beneath his verandah and partake of fruit.

This, however, they declined to do, contenting themselves with returning his salute, and passing on.

There were two sampans moored close to Dullah’s hut, each holding four Malays, but the boats themselves were filled with produce piled high, and the owners were evidently waiting to have dealings with their superior, the man who had been appointed to supply the English garrison of the island and the ship.

There was nothing suspicious to be seen here, neither did anything attract their attention as they continued their walk right round the island, everything being as calm and still as the sleepy shore which lay baking beneath the ardent rays of the sun, while the various houses looked comparatively cool beneath the shade of the palms and durian trees, with here and there a great ragged-leaved banana showing a huge bunch of its strange fruit.

Tired and hot, they were glad to return to their quarters, where Sergeant Lund was writing out a report, and occasionally frowning at Private Sim, who was lying under a tree fast asleep.

Chapter Thirty Four.A Hot Night on board the “Startler.”The young officers were pretty busy over their duties throughout the day, Bob Roberts to his great delight being left in sole charge of the steamer, while Lieutenant Johnson went to have a short consultation with Captain Smithers; and two hours later, when Captain Smithers accompanied the naval officer back, Ensign Long was in full command at the island.The hot and sleep-inviting day had rolled slowly by; never had the river looked brighter and clearer, or more keenly reflected the rays of the sun. Far down in its pure depths the middy had watched the darting about of the fish, which seemed to seek the shadow beneath the steamer’s hull for their playground.This was noticed at stolen moments, for Bob was generally too full of his duties to think of the fish, or to do more than cast a longing glance at the dark shadows beneath the trees. For on board the heat was terrible, the pitch was oozing out of the seams, and blistering the paint; every piece of tarry cordage was soft and pliant, and very beads stood out upon the strands; while beneath the awnings there was a stuffy suffocating heat that was next to unbearable.On the island the heat was less hard to be borne, the thick grove of palms and other trees whose roots were always moist, throwing out a grateful shade. Still the heat was severely felt, and the general impression was that the hunting-party had by far the worst of it.The day glided by, and the sultry tropic night set in, with the great mellow stars glistening overhead reflected in the clear stream, and seeming to be repeated in the low undergrowth that fringed the shore. The watches were set, every precaution taken against surprise, and though no danger need be apprehended, Captain Smithers had the little fort quite ready to resist attack.It was the same on board the steamer, the watch being visited at frequent intervals by the lieutenant and his subordinate, to the great surprise of the men, who wondered what made the “luff” so fidgety.That night passed off without anything to disturb them; and the next day all was so dull and uniform that Bob Roberts, as he could not go ashore, was fain to amuse himself with his monkey, which he fed till it could eat no more, and then teased till it got into a passion, snapped at him, and took refuge in the rigging till its master’s back was turned, when, to the great delight of the men, it leaped down on the middy’s shoulder, and there seized the back of his jacket-collar and shook it vigorously, till seeing its opportunity it once more leaped up into the rigging, chattering fiercely, and showing its teeth as Bob threatened it and called it names.Evening came on again, not too hot, but quite bad enough to make the middy glad to walk the deck in the loosest jacket he possessed. The watch had been set, the lights hung up, and all was very still; for, having had but little sleep the night before, Bob was too tired to talk, and now sat in the coolest place he could find, hitting out occasionally at a mosquito, and alternating that exercise with petting the monkey, which had made its submission by creeping down from the rigging at dinner-time, and approaching its master in a depressed mournful way, as if declaring its sorrow for its late sin, and readiness to do anything, if its master would forgive it. In fact, when the middy rose as if to beat it, the animal lay down on the deck, grovelling and whining piteously, as it watched his actions with one eye, that said as plainly as could be, “You don’t mean it. I’m such a little thing that you would not hurt me.”Bob did not hurt it, but gave it one of Dullah’s mangosteens instead, and peace was made.Lieutenant Johnson joined the middy soon after he had given up seeking a nap on account of the heat, and came and leaned over the bulwark by his side, talking to him in a low voice, both feeling depressed and subdued.“I wonder how our party is getting on?” said the lieutenant at last. “They’ll have a storm to-night, and soaked tents.”“Yes; there’s a flash,” exclaimed Bob, as the distant forest seemed to be lit-up to its very depths by a quivering blaze of sheet lightning.This was repeated, and with increased vividness, the pale blue light playing about in the horizon, and displaying the shapes of the great heavy clouds that overhung the mountains in the east.“It’s very beautiful to watch,” said the lieutenant; “but suppose we take a walk forward.”They strolled along the deck, and on going right to the bows found the watch every man in his place; and returning aft spoke to the marine, who stood like a statue leaning upon his piece.They sat down again, feeling no inclination to seek the cabin; and this feeling seemed to be shared by the men, who were sitting about, talking in low whispers, and watching the distant lashing lightning, whose lambent sheets seemed now to be playing incessantly.“Is there anything the matter with you, sir?” said Bob at last.“No, Roberts, only that I feel so restless and unsettled that I should like to jump overboard for a cool swim.”“That’s just what I feel, sir,” said Bob, “with a dash of monkey in it.”“A dash of monkey!”“Yes, sir; as if I must run and jump about, or climb, or do something. It’s the fidgets with this heat. Let’s walk forward again, if you don’t mind. I think it’s cooler there.”“Cooler, Roberts? It seems to me as if the deck is thoroughly hot, and as if one’s clothes were baking. I quite envy the lads, with their bare feet and open necks.”They strolled forward again, with the monkey softly following them; and when they stood leaning over the bulwarks, listening to the ripple of the water under the vessel’s stem, the animal perched itself on one of the stays just above their heads.They could almost have fancied they were at sea, gazing down at the phosphorescent water, so beautiful was the reflection of the stars in the smooth, dark current, as it glided swiftly along, rippling a little about the large buoy to which they were moored, and breaking the stars up, as it were, into a thousand tiny points, that divided into a double current and swept by the steamer’s bows.“What a night for a couple of prahus to come down and board us, sir!” said Bob.“Rather unlucky for them, if they did,” said the lieutenant quietly. “One good shot at them, or one of our biggest shells dropped into their hold, would crash through, and send them to the bottom. There’s no such luck, Roberts.”“I suppose not, sir,” said Bob; but, all the same, he could not help feeling that this was a kind of luck which he could very well dispense with on a dark night. He did not venture to say so, though.“How quiet they seem on the island!” said the lieutenant at last. “Heigh-ho! ha hum! I wish we were there, Roberts, along with the ladies; a cup of tea and a little pleasant chat would be very agreeable.”“And some music,” said Bob.“And some music,” said the lieutenant. “What’s the matter with your monkey?”“What’s the matter, Charcoal?” said Bob; for the little animal had suddenly grown excited, chattering, and changing its place, coming down the stay, and then leaping on to the bulwark.“He sees something in the water,” said the lieutenant.“Crocodile,” said Bob; “they like monkey. Look out, Charcoal, or you’ll be overboard.”This was on dimly seeing the monkey run along the bulwark, chattering excitedly.“Help!” came in a hoarse tone from somewhere ahead.“There’s a man overboard,” cried the lieutenant. “Pass the word there. Lower down the gig.”There was the sharp pipe of a whistle, and a scuffling of feet, for the hail had electrified the men; but meanwhile the cry was repeated.“It’s some one from the island swimming down to us,” said the lieutenant. “Hold on, my lad,” he cried, as the cry was repeated nearer and nearer, and then just ahead.“Quick, sir,” cried Bob, “he’s holding on by the hawser, whoever he is;” and fully satisfied in his own mind that one of the soldiers had been bathing, and had been swept down by the current, he called out to the swimmer to hold on, but only to hear once more the one hoarse cry, “Help!” and with it a gurgling noise where the bright stars were broken up into a forked stream of tiny points.So eager was he to cry out to the drowning man that help was coming, that he missed the chance of going himself, but leaned over the bows as the captain’s gig, manned with a ready little crew, kissed the water, was unhooked, and ran swiftly along the side; then the oars splashed, and the little, light boat was rapidly rowed to where the great hawser was made fast.It was so dark that Bob could only dimly make out the round buoy, towards which the gig passed over the water like a shadow.“Can you see him?” cried the lieutenant, who was once more by Bob Roberts’ side.“No, sir; there’s no one here,” said the bow-man.“Help! help!” came in a hoarse whisper just then, exactly below where the two officers leaned over; and they saw that a dark face that had risen to the surface was being swept quickly along by the steamer’s side.“Quick, my lads, here he is! Stern all!” cried the lieutenant; and the light gig was backed rapidly in quest of the drowning man; while Bob ran aft as hard as he could go, and climbed out into the mizzen chains, to stare down into the swift current, holding on by one hand.But he could see nothing, and he was beginning, with throbbing heart, to believe that he was too late—that the wretched man had been swept away before he climbed over, when he caught sight of something just below the surface.“Here, boat, quick!” he cried; and the bow-man struck his hook into the side, and sent the gig flying through the water.“Where, sir? where?” cried he in the hoarse voice of Dick.“There, just below there; I saw him.”For answer Dick leaned over the gig’s bows, and thrust down his boat-hook.“Give way, my lads,” he cried, and again and again he thrust down his hook. Then a strange, choking feeling of horror seemed to seize upon the middy, and he felt dizzy as he gazed after the boat in the midst of that weird darkness, which made the event ten times more terrible than if it had been by day.Just as his heart sank with dread, and he in fancy saw the dead body seized by one or other of the terrible reptiles that swarmed in the river, wondering the while which of the poor men it was, and why they had heard no alarm at the island, Dick’s hoarse voice was heard some distance astern, exclaiming in triumph—“I’ve got him, my lads! Give way!”

The young officers were pretty busy over their duties throughout the day, Bob Roberts to his great delight being left in sole charge of the steamer, while Lieutenant Johnson went to have a short consultation with Captain Smithers; and two hours later, when Captain Smithers accompanied the naval officer back, Ensign Long was in full command at the island.

The hot and sleep-inviting day had rolled slowly by; never had the river looked brighter and clearer, or more keenly reflected the rays of the sun. Far down in its pure depths the middy had watched the darting about of the fish, which seemed to seek the shadow beneath the steamer’s hull for their playground.

This was noticed at stolen moments, for Bob was generally too full of his duties to think of the fish, or to do more than cast a longing glance at the dark shadows beneath the trees. For on board the heat was terrible, the pitch was oozing out of the seams, and blistering the paint; every piece of tarry cordage was soft and pliant, and very beads stood out upon the strands; while beneath the awnings there was a stuffy suffocating heat that was next to unbearable.

On the island the heat was less hard to be borne, the thick grove of palms and other trees whose roots were always moist, throwing out a grateful shade. Still the heat was severely felt, and the general impression was that the hunting-party had by far the worst of it.

The day glided by, and the sultry tropic night set in, with the great mellow stars glistening overhead reflected in the clear stream, and seeming to be repeated in the low undergrowth that fringed the shore. The watches were set, every precaution taken against surprise, and though no danger need be apprehended, Captain Smithers had the little fort quite ready to resist attack.

It was the same on board the steamer, the watch being visited at frequent intervals by the lieutenant and his subordinate, to the great surprise of the men, who wondered what made the “luff” so fidgety.

That night passed off without anything to disturb them; and the next day all was so dull and uniform that Bob Roberts, as he could not go ashore, was fain to amuse himself with his monkey, which he fed till it could eat no more, and then teased till it got into a passion, snapped at him, and took refuge in the rigging till its master’s back was turned, when, to the great delight of the men, it leaped down on the middy’s shoulder, and there seized the back of his jacket-collar and shook it vigorously, till seeing its opportunity it once more leaped up into the rigging, chattering fiercely, and showing its teeth as Bob threatened it and called it names.

Evening came on again, not too hot, but quite bad enough to make the middy glad to walk the deck in the loosest jacket he possessed. The watch had been set, the lights hung up, and all was very still; for, having had but little sleep the night before, Bob was too tired to talk, and now sat in the coolest place he could find, hitting out occasionally at a mosquito, and alternating that exercise with petting the monkey, which had made its submission by creeping down from the rigging at dinner-time, and approaching its master in a depressed mournful way, as if declaring its sorrow for its late sin, and readiness to do anything, if its master would forgive it. In fact, when the middy rose as if to beat it, the animal lay down on the deck, grovelling and whining piteously, as it watched his actions with one eye, that said as plainly as could be, “You don’t mean it. I’m such a little thing that you would not hurt me.”

Bob did not hurt it, but gave it one of Dullah’s mangosteens instead, and peace was made.

Lieutenant Johnson joined the middy soon after he had given up seeking a nap on account of the heat, and came and leaned over the bulwark by his side, talking to him in a low voice, both feeling depressed and subdued.

“I wonder how our party is getting on?” said the lieutenant at last. “They’ll have a storm to-night, and soaked tents.”

“Yes; there’s a flash,” exclaimed Bob, as the distant forest seemed to be lit-up to its very depths by a quivering blaze of sheet lightning.

This was repeated, and with increased vividness, the pale blue light playing about in the horizon, and displaying the shapes of the great heavy clouds that overhung the mountains in the east.

“It’s very beautiful to watch,” said the lieutenant; “but suppose we take a walk forward.”

They strolled along the deck, and on going right to the bows found the watch every man in his place; and returning aft spoke to the marine, who stood like a statue leaning upon his piece.

They sat down again, feeling no inclination to seek the cabin; and this feeling seemed to be shared by the men, who were sitting about, talking in low whispers, and watching the distant lashing lightning, whose lambent sheets seemed now to be playing incessantly.

“Is there anything the matter with you, sir?” said Bob at last.

“No, Roberts, only that I feel so restless and unsettled that I should like to jump overboard for a cool swim.”

“That’s just what I feel, sir,” said Bob, “with a dash of monkey in it.”

“A dash of monkey!”

“Yes, sir; as if I must run and jump about, or climb, or do something. It’s the fidgets with this heat. Let’s walk forward again, if you don’t mind. I think it’s cooler there.”

“Cooler, Roberts? It seems to me as if the deck is thoroughly hot, and as if one’s clothes were baking. I quite envy the lads, with their bare feet and open necks.”

They strolled forward again, with the monkey softly following them; and when they stood leaning over the bulwarks, listening to the ripple of the water under the vessel’s stem, the animal perched itself on one of the stays just above their heads.

They could almost have fancied they were at sea, gazing down at the phosphorescent water, so beautiful was the reflection of the stars in the smooth, dark current, as it glided swiftly along, rippling a little about the large buoy to which they were moored, and breaking the stars up, as it were, into a thousand tiny points, that divided into a double current and swept by the steamer’s bows.

“What a night for a couple of prahus to come down and board us, sir!” said Bob.

“Rather unlucky for them, if they did,” said the lieutenant quietly. “One good shot at them, or one of our biggest shells dropped into their hold, would crash through, and send them to the bottom. There’s no such luck, Roberts.”

“I suppose not, sir,” said Bob; but, all the same, he could not help feeling that this was a kind of luck which he could very well dispense with on a dark night. He did not venture to say so, though.

“How quiet they seem on the island!” said the lieutenant at last. “Heigh-ho! ha hum! I wish we were there, Roberts, along with the ladies; a cup of tea and a little pleasant chat would be very agreeable.”

“And some music,” said Bob.

“And some music,” said the lieutenant. “What’s the matter with your monkey?”

“What’s the matter, Charcoal?” said Bob; for the little animal had suddenly grown excited, chattering, and changing its place, coming down the stay, and then leaping on to the bulwark.

“He sees something in the water,” said the lieutenant.

“Crocodile,” said Bob; “they like monkey. Look out, Charcoal, or you’ll be overboard.”

This was on dimly seeing the monkey run along the bulwark, chattering excitedly.

“Help!” came in a hoarse tone from somewhere ahead.

“There’s a man overboard,” cried the lieutenant. “Pass the word there. Lower down the gig.”

There was the sharp pipe of a whistle, and a scuffling of feet, for the hail had electrified the men; but meanwhile the cry was repeated.

“It’s some one from the island swimming down to us,” said the lieutenant. “Hold on, my lad,” he cried, as the cry was repeated nearer and nearer, and then just ahead.

“Quick, sir,” cried Bob, “he’s holding on by the hawser, whoever he is;” and fully satisfied in his own mind that one of the soldiers had been bathing, and had been swept down by the current, he called out to the swimmer to hold on, but only to hear once more the one hoarse cry, “Help!” and with it a gurgling noise where the bright stars were broken up into a forked stream of tiny points.

So eager was he to cry out to the drowning man that help was coming, that he missed the chance of going himself, but leaned over the bows as the captain’s gig, manned with a ready little crew, kissed the water, was unhooked, and ran swiftly along the side; then the oars splashed, and the little, light boat was rapidly rowed to where the great hawser was made fast.

It was so dark that Bob could only dimly make out the round buoy, towards which the gig passed over the water like a shadow.

“Can you see him?” cried the lieutenant, who was once more by Bob Roberts’ side.

“No, sir; there’s no one here,” said the bow-man.

“Help! help!” came in a hoarse whisper just then, exactly below where the two officers leaned over; and they saw that a dark face that had risen to the surface was being swept quickly along by the steamer’s side.

“Quick, my lads, here he is! Stern all!” cried the lieutenant; and the light gig was backed rapidly in quest of the drowning man; while Bob ran aft as hard as he could go, and climbed out into the mizzen chains, to stare down into the swift current, holding on by one hand.

But he could see nothing, and he was beginning, with throbbing heart, to believe that he was too late—that the wretched man had been swept away before he climbed over, when he caught sight of something just below the surface.

“Here, boat, quick!” he cried; and the bow-man struck his hook into the side, and sent the gig flying through the water.

“Where, sir? where?” cried he in the hoarse voice of Dick.

“There, just below there; I saw him.”

For answer Dick leaned over the gig’s bows, and thrust down his boat-hook.

“Give way, my lads,” he cried, and again and again he thrust down his hook. Then a strange, choking feeling of horror seemed to seize upon the middy, and he felt dizzy as he gazed after the boat in the midst of that weird darkness, which made the event ten times more terrible than if it had been by day.

Just as his heart sank with dread, and he in fancy saw the dead body seized by one or other of the terrible reptiles that swarmed in the river, wondering the while which of the poor men it was, and why they had heard no alarm at the island, Dick’s hoarse voice was heard some distance astern, exclaiming in triumph—

“I’ve got him, my lads! Give way!”

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