Chapter Thirty Five.The Flight of a Lim-bing.It was no rash assertion. The small erection that it had been the Major’s pride to erect by means of the men a short distance back and just inside the jungle, and to which he had brought to bear all the ingenuity he possessed, so as to ensure safety—sinking it deep in the earth, protecting it by achevaux de frise, and then thickly planting the outside with a dense belt of the closest and most rapid-growing of the jungle shrubs—had been levelled with the earth, and its framework was now blazing furiously.The first few moments after the explosion, it had seemed to the besieged that defence now would be madness, and that nothing was left for them but to throw themselves on the mercy of the Malays. But that natural desire of the Briton to make the best of things exemplified in the Latin proverbNil desperandumsoon began to assert itself. A sergeant suddenly shouted, “Look out there, my lads! Want to see the place burnt down?” And first one and then another made a rush towards the different buildings to pick or knock off fragments of burning wood and bright embers, cast by the tremendous force and scattered by the powder, that were beginning to threaten destruction on the roofs where they had fallen. The example set was quite sufficient for the rapid stamping out of the fires.Meanwhile the remains of the magazine were burning furiously, and though the river was so near, it was no time for any attempt at checking the fire’s progress.“Let it go, my lads,” the Major had said, “and be ready to take cover again, for we shall have the enemy back directly.”For, instead of taking advantage of the explosion and the temporary bewilderment that had been caused to the besieged by the shock, the Malays, utterly demoralised by the terrific roar, had to a man made for the shelter of the jungle.The silence that had succeeded the roar was intense. Where, firing their clumsy old muskets and increasing the noise by their savage yells of defiance all round the cantonments, the Malays had been tearing about and rushing from tree to tree, peace now reigned, while the snapping and crackling of the burning wood, the deep-toned, half-whispered orders of the officers, and the talking of the men seemed to sound unnaturally loud.In a short time now all risk of further spreading of the fire was at an end, and the question arose, to be discussed by officers and non-coms, as to whether, as the Malays seemed to have retreated, something should not be done in the way of extinguishing the flames by bringing entrenching tools to bear and smothering them out with earth.“No,” said the Major; “it will be useless toil. Let it burn out.”“But the fire’s getting brighter, sir,” protested Archie.“Well, sir,” said the Major peevishly, “that’s plain enough; you needn’t tell us that. What then?”“We shall be having the enemy back directly, sir, and all of us standing out against the light as a mark for their spears.”“Tut, tut!” exclaimed the Major. “How absurd! I had not thought of that. But, all the same, the explosion seems to have completely scared them away, for I don’t hear a sound. Do any of you?”There was no reply.“Yes,” continued the Major sharply.—“Here, Sergeant; half-a-dozen men, and spades. Do the best you can to smother the flames.—The rest take cover, for this can’t last. We shall have the enemy back directly.”The Major’sdirectlydid not prove to be correct, and while a careful watch was kept on the surrounding jungle and the little patches of fire that were flickering here and there amongst the trees, where goodly pieces of the woodwork had been cast by the explosion, a little meeting was held to discuss their position and the consequences of the catastrophe.“You had all your ammunition stored there, had you not?” said the Doctor.“All but what was in the men’s pouches,” replied the Major.“Then what do you mean to do?”“Fix bayonets,” said the Major quietly.“And not surrender?” said the Resident.“Not while we have any fight left in us, Sir Charles. We have our women to protect; and besides, there are the three detachments out in the jungle. I begin to think that this explosion will prove to be a blessing in disguise, and act as a rallying-call to bring the men back and take the enemy, if they come on again, in the rear.”“Yes, to be sure,” said the Resident, who stood half-turned from his companions in distress, and was gazing hard in the direction of the river.“Well, Sir Charles, I presume you agree with me that we must stand to our guns—or, I should say, hold to our bayonets—till the very last? Help may come at any hour now.”“Yes, certainly, sir,” replied the Resident; “but I am afraid—”“I wouldn’t say so, sir,” said the Major, with a bitter laugh.“You know what I mean,” said Sir Charles sternly. “I fully expect that we shall have another body of Malays, to join in the attack, from down the river—I mean, the Rajah Hamet’s men.”“Well,” said the Major, “our little citadel will hold us all, and when the last cartridges are fired we can make such a breast-work of bayonets as I don’t think, in spite of their spears, these Malay scoundrels will pass.”“We shall do our best, I am sure,” said the Resident quietly. “But what do you make of this explosion?”“Ruin,” said the Major bitterly.“No, no; I mean, what could have caused it? You have all your rules—no fire is ever allowed to approach.”“Ah yes, to be sure,” said the Major sharply, “what could have caused it?” and he looked round from one to the other. “I have been so wrapped up in the consequences that it has never occurred to me to think of the cause. We could have no enemy within the camp.”“Look here,” said Archie to the Doctor; “one of these fellows is coming to say that the more they throw on earth the more the wood blazes up.—What is it?” he continued, to the shovel-bearing private, who now joined them, his streaming and blackened face showing plainly in the bright light.“We’ve just come upon a wounded man, sir.”“Why didn’t you bring him in?” said Archie sharply.“I don’t mean only wounded, sir. He’s all black and burnt. Seems as if the blow-up had sent him ever so far away, and he’s lying yonder amongst the stripped trees.”“Eh? What’s that?” said the Major excitedly. “Not one of my lads?”“No, sir. As far as I can make out by what’s left of his clothes, he’s one of the enemy.”“One of the enemy!” cried the Major. “Why, we are coming to the truth, then. No one of the enemy could have been there—unless—”“Look here,” said the Doctor in his busy way, “you said wounded man, my lad?”“Yes, sir; he’s alive, for he moved when we touched him, and groaned. But he’s got it badly.”“Well,” said the Doctor sharply, “a wounded man, whether he’s one of ourselves or an enemy, is all one to me;” and he walked with the rest, after a glance or two in the direction of the silent forest, from which the attack had come, towards the still blazing fire, where a little group of the spade party was standing round a dark object lying at some distance on the other side of the ruins of the magazine.The party drew back a little to make way for their officers, and Archie shuddered as he caught sight of the horribly blackened object before them.“A litter here,” said the Doctor shortly. “I will have him up into hospital, but I’m afraid it’s a hopeless case.”As the Doctor rose from one knee, something bright caught Archie’s eye and somehow brought to mind the gold bracelet he had seen the French Count wear. Then thought after thought flashed through his mind, as he heard a deep, muttering groan, and the man who had brought the tidings whispered to his young officer:“That’s the same as he did before, sir—just cried ‘Lo-lo-lo!’ or something like that.”“Why, Doctor,” said Archie excitedly, “did you hear the rest—‘De l’eau’? He was asking for water.”“Yes—for the love of Heaven! what does this mean? He can’t be a Malay.”“No,” said Archie excitedly. “It’s impossible to recognise him for certain now, but I feel sure it’s the Rajah’s French friend.”“What!” said the Major excitedly. “What could he have been doing here?”“What could he have been doing here, sir, that night when Captain Down and I were startled by hearing some one outside the veranda—some one who must have been listening to you and Sir Charles when you were talking together?”“Here, I don’t understand,” said the Major petulantly. “What could the Rajah’s friend have been doing here listening to our talk?”“Playing the spy, sir, in his master’s interest.”“Pooh!” said the Major angrily. “This is no French friend of the Rajah’s. He’s a Malay. That’s a piece of a silk sarong clinging to his waist, with a kris stuck in it.”“Yes, sir,” said Archie; “but those are European trousers he’s wearing underneath, and—yes!” cried the lad, as he bent nearer and shrinkingly touched the blackened wrist, just as a fresh flight of flame rose from the ruined magazine—“I am certain that’s the gold bracelet the Rajah’s friend used to wear. It’s got a French motto on it, which you could see if you took it to the light. But I know it by the shape, and I thought that it was a silly bit of effeminate foppishness on the part of a man.”“Yes,” said Sir Charles; “I remember thinking so too. Why, the scoundrel must have been in the pay of the Rajah, and played the spy here to pretty good purpose. I don’t think you need search for the cause of the magazine being exploded.”Further conversation was ended by the report of a musket, which served as the signal for several more, all fired from beyond the parade-ground, and doing no harm, though thewhizandphitof the bullets passed close by, and could be heard striking against the nearest buildings.“Cover,” said the Major sharply. “Never mind the fire now. It will do them as much harm as it does us, for we shall be able to see its glint reflected in their eyes at the edge of the jungle. Quick, every one—cover!”“Wait a minute, four of you,” said the Doctor. “I want my patient carried in.”“Your what!” said the Major fiercely. “The renegade who has dealt us this cowardly blow?”“I never ask questions about a man’s character,” said the Doctor gruffly. “If he wants a surgeon’s help, that’s character enough for me. If I save his life, and you like to prove all this is true, and court-martial him and shoot him afterwards, as a spy, that’s not my business, and I shall not interfere.—But look sharp, my lads. These big musket-balls are coming unpleasantly near, and they make very bad wounds. I can’t afford to get one in me, for I am afraid you will want your surgeon for some time to come.”It was a horrible task, but the four men who raised the injured man to bear him in could not forbear a chuckle at the Doctor’s remark.But the order to take cover was none too soon, for the musket-bullets were flying faster, fortunately without aim; and as shelter was reached it became evident that the scare caused by the explosion had died out, for by the light of the burning ruins the flash of a spear-head could be seen every now and then at the jungle-edge, and as the enemy once more gathered as if for a rush, their threatening yells grew plain.“Well, young Maine,” said the Major slowly, as he passed his hand over his grizzled moustache just as Archie was going round from post to post, “this seems rather hard for you.”“For me, sir?” said the lad, gazing at his commanding officer wonderingly.“Yes, because you are such a young fellow. There, go on. Don’t let the men waste a cartridge, for they must be made to last until one or the other of our detachments comes in—I hope well supplied, for if they’ve been using what they have, they will be in just as bad state as we are.”“Oh, they’ll be coming in soon, sir,” said Archie cheerily.“I don’t know. I hope so, my lad, for everybody’s sake; but it’s tough work getting through the jungle—and there, look at that! These fellows have plenty of pluck, or they wouldn’t expose themselves as they do. I expect to find that we have very little more ball-cartridge. Well, it will be bayonet against spear, and if it were only equal sides I should back our lads. As it is, Maine, we must hope, and pray for our lads to come in with a run. Have you any idea what time it is, my lad?”“No, sir. But it can’t be near morning yet.”“I suppose not. There, let’s go and see how the Doctor’s getting on with his new patient. You are right, my lad; I am sure now. You young fellows jump at a thing directly. We old fellows want a good deal of thought over anything before we will accept it as a fact.”“Are you looking for anything, sir?” asked Archie, as the Major walked close to the window and stood looking out.“Yes, my lad; I was looking for morning, and I can’t see it yet.—Why, what—” The Major went heavily against the side of the window, as a result of a violent thrust from Archie, who swung out his sword and struck up the shaft of a spear with one cut, sending the spear to stick into the upper framework of the window, his next stroke being delivered with the pommel of his sword crash into the temple of a Malay who had crept up in the darkness and made two thrusts at the gallant old soldier, who said dryly, as one of his men made a thrust with his bayonet and rendered the treacherous enemyhors de combat.“That was very soldierly and smart, Maine. They’re as treacherous as the great striped cats of their jungle. Well, I suppose I ought to thank you for saving my life, but we soldiers don’t talk about this sort of thing.”
It was no rash assertion. The small erection that it had been the Major’s pride to erect by means of the men a short distance back and just inside the jungle, and to which he had brought to bear all the ingenuity he possessed, so as to ensure safety—sinking it deep in the earth, protecting it by achevaux de frise, and then thickly planting the outside with a dense belt of the closest and most rapid-growing of the jungle shrubs—had been levelled with the earth, and its framework was now blazing furiously.
The first few moments after the explosion, it had seemed to the besieged that defence now would be madness, and that nothing was left for them but to throw themselves on the mercy of the Malays. But that natural desire of the Briton to make the best of things exemplified in the Latin proverbNil desperandumsoon began to assert itself. A sergeant suddenly shouted, “Look out there, my lads! Want to see the place burnt down?” And first one and then another made a rush towards the different buildings to pick or knock off fragments of burning wood and bright embers, cast by the tremendous force and scattered by the powder, that were beginning to threaten destruction on the roofs where they had fallen. The example set was quite sufficient for the rapid stamping out of the fires.
Meanwhile the remains of the magazine were burning furiously, and though the river was so near, it was no time for any attempt at checking the fire’s progress.
“Let it go, my lads,” the Major had said, “and be ready to take cover again, for we shall have the enemy back directly.”
For, instead of taking advantage of the explosion and the temporary bewilderment that had been caused to the besieged by the shock, the Malays, utterly demoralised by the terrific roar, had to a man made for the shelter of the jungle.
The silence that had succeeded the roar was intense. Where, firing their clumsy old muskets and increasing the noise by their savage yells of defiance all round the cantonments, the Malays had been tearing about and rushing from tree to tree, peace now reigned, while the snapping and crackling of the burning wood, the deep-toned, half-whispered orders of the officers, and the talking of the men seemed to sound unnaturally loud.
In a short time now all risk of further spreading of the fire was at an end, and the question arose, to be discussed by officers and non-coms, as to whether, as the Malays seemed to have retreated, something should not be done in the way of extinguishing the flames by bringing entrenching tools to bear and smothering them out with earth.
“No,” said the Major; “it will be useless toil. Let it burn out.”
“But the fire’s getting brighter, sir,” protested Archie.
“Well, sir,” said the Major peevishly, “that’s plain enough; you needn’t tell us that. What then?”
“We shall be having the enemy back directly, sir, and all of us standing out against the light as a mark for their spears.”
“Tut, tut!” exclaimed the Major. “How absurd! I had not thought of that. But, all the same, the explosion seems to have completely scared them away, for I don’t hear a sound. Do any of you?”
There was no reply.
“Yes,” continued the Major sharply.—“Here, Sergeant; half-a-dozen men, and spades. Do the best you can to smother the flames.—The rest take cover, for this can’t last. We shall have the enemy back directly.”
The Major’sdirectlydid not prove to be correct, and while a careful watch was kept on the surrounding jungle and the little patches of fire that were flickering here and there amongst the trees, where goodly pieces of the woodwork had been cast by the explosion, a little meeting was held to discuss their position and the consequences of the catastrophe.
“You had all your ammunition stored there, had you not?” said the Doctor.
“All but what was in the men’s pouches,” replied the Major.
“Then what do you mean to do?”
“Fix bayonets,” said the Major quietly.
“And not surrender?” said the Resident.
“Not while we have any fight left in us, Sir Charles. We have our women to protect; and besides, there are the three detachments out in the jungle. I begin to think that this explosion will prove to be a blessing in disguise, and act as a rallying-call to bring the men back and take the enemy, if they come on again, in the rear.”
“Yes, to be sure,” said the Resident, who stood half-turned from his companions in distress, and was gazing hard in the direction of the river.
“Well, Sir Charles, I presume you agree with me that we must stand to our guns—or, I should say, hold to our bayonets—till the very last? Help may come at any hour now.”
“Yes, certainly, sir,” replied the Resident; “but I am afraid—”
“I wouldn’t say so, sir,” said the Major, with a bitter laugh.
“You know what I mean,” said Sir Charles sternly. “I fully expect that we shall have another body of Malays, to join in the attack, from down the river—I mean, the Rajah Hamet’s men.”
“Well,” said the Major, “our little citadel will hold us all, and when the last cartridges are fired we can make such a breast-work of bayonets as I don’t think, in spite of their spears, these Malay scoundrels will pass.”
“We shall do our best, I am sure,” said the Resident quietly. “But what do you make of this explosion?”
“Ruin,” said the Major bitterly.
“No, no; I mean, what could have caused it? You have all your rules—no fire is ever allowed to approach.”
“Ah yes, to be sure,” said the Major sharply, “what could have caused it?” and he looked round from one to the other. “I have been so wrapped up in the consequences that it has never occurred to me to think of the cause. We could have no enemy within the camp.”
“Look here,” said Archie to the Doctor; “one of these fellows is coming to say that the more they throw on earth the more the wood blazes up.—What is it?” he continued, to the shovel-bearing private, who now joined them, his streaming and blackened face showing plainly in the bright light.
“We’ve just come upon a wounded man, sir.”
“Why didn’t you bring him in?” said Archie sharply.
“I don’t mean only wounded, sir. He’s all black and burnt. Seems as if the blow-up had sent him ever so far away, and he’s lying yonder amongst the stripped trees.”
“Eh? What’s that?” said the Major excitedly. “Not one of my lads?”
“No, sir. As far as I can make out by what’s left of his clothes, he’s one of the enemy.”
“One of the enemy!” cried the Major. “Why, we are coming to the truth, then. No one of the enemy could have been there—unless—”
“Look here,” said the Doctor in his busy way, “you said wounded man, my lad?”
“Yes, sir; he’s alive, for he moved when we touched him, and groaned. But he’s got it badly.”
“Well,” said the Doctor sharply, “a wounded man, whether he’s one of ourselves or an enemy, is all one to me;” and he walked with the rest, after a glance or two in the direction of the silent forest, from which the attack had come, towards the still blazing fire, where a little group of the spade party was standing round a dark object lying at some distance on the other side of the ruins of the magazine.
The party drew back a little to make way for their officers, and Archie shuddered as he caught sight of the horribly blackened object before them.
“A litter here,” said the Doctor shortly. “I will have him up into hospital, but I’m afraid it’s a hopeless case.”
As the Doctor rose from one knee, something bright caught Archie’s eye and somehow brought to mind the gold bracelet he had seen the French Count wear. Then thought after thought flashed through his mind, as he heard a deep, muttering groan, and the man who had brought the tidings whispered to his young officer:
“That’s the same as he did before, sir—just cried ‘Lo-lo-lo!’ or something like that.”
“Why, Doctor,” said Archie excitedly, “did you hear the rest—‘De l’eau’? He was asking for water.”
“Yes—for the love of Heaven! what does this mean? He can’t be a Malay.”
“No,” said Archie excitedly. “It’s impossible to recognise him for certain now, but I feel sure it’s the Rajah’s French friend.”
“What!” said the Major excitedly. “What could he have been doing here?”
“What could he have been doing here, sir, that night when Captain Down and I were startled by hearing some one outside the veranda—some one who must have been listening to you and Sir Charles when you were talking together?”
“Here, I don’t understand,” said the Major petulantly. “What could the Rajah’s friend have been doing here listening to our talk?”
“Playing the spy, sir, in his master’s interest.”
“Pooh!” said the Major angrily. “This is no French friend of the Rajah’s. He’s a Malay. That’s a piece of a silk sarong clinging to his waist, with a kris stuck in it.”
“Yes, sir,” said Archie; “but those are European trousers he’s wearing underneath, and—yes!” cried the lad, as he bent nearer and shrinkingly touched the blackened wrist, just as a fresh flight of flame rose from the ruined magazine—“I am certain that’s the gold bracelet the Rajah’s friend used to wear. It’s got a French motto on it, which you could see if you took it to the light. But I know it by the shape, and I thought that it was a silly bit of effeminate foppishness on the part of a man.”
“Yes,” said Sir Charles; “I remember thinking so too. Why, the scoundrel must have been in the pay of the Rajah, and played the spy here to pretty good purpose. I don’t think you need search for the cause of the magazine being exploded.”
Further conversation was ended by the report of a musket, which served as the signal for several more, all fired from beyond the parade-ground, and doing no harm, though thewhizandphitof the bullets passed close by, and could be heard striking against the nearest buildings.
“Cover,” said the Major sharply. “Never mind the fire now. It will do them as much harm as it does us, for we shall be able to see its glint reflected in their eyes at the edge of the jungle. Quick, every one—cover!”
“Wait a minute, four of you,” said the Doctor. “I want my patient carried in.”
“Your what!” said the Major fiercely. “The renegade who has dealt us this cowardly blow?”
“I never ask questions about a man’s character,” said the Doctor gruffly. “If he wants a surgeon’s help, that’s character enough for me. If I save his life, and you like to prove all this is true, and court-martial him and shoot him afterwards, as a spy, that’s not my business, and I shall not interfere.—But look sharp, my lads. These big musket-balls are coming unpleasantly near, and they make very bad wounds. I can’t afford to get one in me, for I am afraid you will want your surgeon for some time to come.”
It was a horrible task, but the four men who raised the injured man to bear him in could not forbear a chuckle at the Doctor’s remark.
But the order to take cover was none too soon, for the musket-bullets were flying faster, fortunately without aim; and as shelter was reached it became evident that the scare caused by the explosion had died out, for by the light of the burning ruins the flash of a spear-head could be seen every now and then at the jungle-edge, and as the enemy once more gathered as if for a rush, their threatening yells grew plain.
“Well, young Maine,” said the Major slowly, as he passed his hand over his grizzled moustache just as Archie was going round from post to post, “this seems rather hard for you.”
“For me, sir?” said the lad, gazing at his commanding officer wonderingly.
“Yes, because you are such a young fellow. There, go on. Don’t let the men waste a cartridge, for they must be made to last until one or the other of our detachments comes in—I hope well supplied, for if they’ve been using what they have, they will be in just as bad state as we are.”
“Oh, they’ll be coming in soon, sir,” said Archie cheerily.
“I don’t know. I hope so, my lad, for everybody’s sake; but it’s tough work getting through the jungle—and there, look at that! These fellows have plenty of pluck, or they wouldn’t expose themselves as they do. I expect to find that we have very little more ball-cartridge. Well, it will be bayonet against spear, and if it were only equal sides I should back our lads. As it is, Maine, we must hope, and pray for our lads to come in with a run. Have you any idea what time it is, my lad?”
“No, sir. But it can’t be near morning yet.”
“I suppose not. There, let’s go and see how the Doctor’s getting on with his new patient. You are right, my lad; I am sure now. You young fellows jump at a thing directly. We old fellows want a good deal of thought over anything before we will accept it as a fact.”
“Are you looking for anything, sir?” asked Archie, as the Major walked close to the window and stood looking out.
“Yes, my lad; I was looking for morning, and I can’t see it yet.—Why, what—” The Major went heavily against the side of the window, as a result of a violent thrust from Archie, who swung out his sword and struck up the shaft of a spear with one cut, sending the spear to stick into the upper framework of the window, his next stroke being delivered with the pommel of his sword crash into the temple of a Malay who had crept up in the darkness and made two thrusts at the gallant old soldier, who said dryly, as one of his men made a thrust with his bayonet and rendered the treacherous enemyhors de combat.
“That was very soldierly and smart, Maine. They’re as treacherous as the great striped cats of their jungle. Well, I suppose I ought to thank you for saving my life, but we soldiers don’t talk about this sort of thing.”
Chapter Thirty Six.A strange Confession.The Doctor was busy with his patients in the heat of the day, loosening one poor fellow’s bandage, and tightening another that an irritable sufferer had worked loose; while Mrs Smithers was thoroughly proving her ability at using basin and sponge over the brows of some poor, fevered fellow whose pillow-less head rolled slowly from side to side. Archie was taking the mess-room on his way to visit the chamber where Peter Pegg was stationed, and from whose window an occasional shot rang out from time to time, with the result of the gaudily robed Malay in a smart, cavalry-like cap, who had drawn the shot, being seen no more.“How am I, Mister Archie, sir? Oh, it’s rather hot here, sir,” said Mrs Smithers; and then, in response to a second: ‘Yes, old lady, or, I should say, Madame la Duchesse’—“Now, please, sir, don’t you get calling me names too. I don’t mind from the Doctor, but it teases when it comes from a young gent like you. No, sir, I ain’t cross, only a bit worried by the flies. They are terrible, and it’s all due to its being so hot.”“Yes, Mrs Smithers,” said Archie meaningly. “It is hot, and no mistake. But how beautiful and tidy you have got everything!”“Well, it is a bit better, sir. I have been collecting all the mats I could find for the poor boys. Do you hear any news, sir, of reinforcements coming up?”“Not yet, old lady.”“I do wish they’d come, sir; and oh, Mr Archie, can’t I do anything for you?”“Me? No! I am not wounded.”“No, sir; but, oh dear, what a state you are in! Some clean things would be a blessing to you.”“Oh, wait a bit. One’s got something else to think about now. Where’s the Doctor?”“He was here just this minute, sir; and he’s sure not to be long, for I never see such a man for watching everybody who’s in hospital. There, I thought so! Here he is, with the mess water-can and a clean glass. He might have asked me to fetch some water if he wanted it. But he always will interfere with what’s in my department.”“Hullo, Maine, my lad, you here! You are just in time. I’ve been fetching a can of this clear, sparkling water for my poor fellows. Look sharp, for I can see several eyes looking at it hungrily—I mean thirstily,” he added quickly.He filled the glass after the fashion of Dickens’s butler, trying to froth it up with a heading of sparkling beads.“May I drink this, Doctor?” said Archie.“Drink it? Of course! You are one of my patients still.”“Thanks. But ladies first.—Here, Mrs Smithers; you look tired and hot. I will have the next glass.”“No, sir, please,” said the woman firmly. “You want it worse than I do.”“Don’t waste time,” said the Doctor sternly. “Drink the water, my lad.”The deliciously cool draught trickled down Archie’s throat till the bottom of the glass became top.“De-licious,” he said.The Doctor took the glass, filled it, emptied it, smacked his lips, and then refilled and handed it to Mrs Smithers.“Your turn, nurse,” he said. “Then take the can and go all round, and finish off by taking a glass up to the Frenchman.”“Ah, I was looking round, sir, for him,” said Archie.“Yes, I am getting too full here, my lad. I have had him carried up to that room where Pegg’s on duty.”“Oh, I’m going there, sir, and I shall see him.”“One moment, Duchess; half a glass, please. I feel like a volcanic cinder.—As you say, my lad—de-licious,” he continued, as he handed back the glass. “I am proud of that water, and so you ought to be.”“I am, Doctor.”“That’s all due to me, sir. When we first came—you know the Major’s way—‘Nonsense,’ he said. ‘There will be three hundred idle men here with nothing to do, and they can fetch as much water as we want for the day’s supply from the river.’ And I said, ‘No. In a hot country like this I want my men to have good, pure, sparkling well water, and not to be forced to drink croc and campong drainage soup. I want a thoroughly good well dug by an engineering company.’ I got it, too, just when he was red-hot over his idea for a magazine. And now, sir, there’s my well, always full of that delicious spring water that will do the men more good than any medicine I can exhibit; and where’s his magazine? You tell me that.”“If he were here, Doctor, he’d tell you that he’d rather have the magazine intact than the well.”“Never mind. I’ve got the water.”“Yes, Doctor. But how’s Mrs Morley?”“Ah, poor dear soul!” replied the Doctor, and his eyes looked moist. “Worked to death, thank goodness!”“Thank goodness?” said Archie wonderingly.“Yes, my lad. It keeps her from thinking and fretting about Minnie. I’ll tell her you asked after her, my boy. It will please her, for she doesn’t know what a reckless young scamp you are, and she always talks of you as if you were her own boy. Going?”“Yes, Doctor.”“All right and square, my boy? No shot or spear holes in you?”“No, sir; I’m as sound as sound.”“That’s right. If you do get into any trouble, you know where I am; and though I don’t want you, you will be welcome to our mess—and a nice mess we are in, eh, Archie?—Come, look sharp, you British soldiers, and clear away all this scum.”“Only too glad, sir,” said Archie, and he hurried away to have a few words with the sentry who commanded the landing-place, and who was so intent at the window, watching the edge of the jungle, that he did not hear his visitor till he spoke.“Got company, Mister Archie, sir? Yes; that French chap. Doctor said if he was not brought up here where he’d be quiet he would go off sudden like. Not very cheerful company, for he’s awful bad, and when he does talk it’s all in hisparly-voo, kesky say, pally wag banglingo that don’t mean nothing as I can make out.”“Ah, poor fellow! I suppose he’s very bad.”“Oh, that’s right, sir! Poor fellow, and we are all very sorry for him and much obliged because he was kind enough to come and blow all our cartridges to Jericho, or elsewhere, as they say on the soldiers’ letters. You stop here a little while, sir, and you will hear him begin to jabber. Talk about that mahout’spa-ta-ta-ma-ta-ja-ja-ja—this chap goes twice as fast.”“Well, Pete, I can’t stop talking to you. I only wanted to take you in my round. Are you all right?”“Right as a trivet, sir; only I am getting awful short of ammunition. I don’t want to keep on potting these ’ere fellows, but somehow I took to rifle-shooting. There’s some fun in hitting a mark at a distance, and that’s the only thing I ever got a kind word for from old Tipsy. He said I could shoot.”“Yes, you are a very good marksman, Pete; and that’s why you are stationed here.”“Yes, I suppose so, sir. But ’tain’t my fault that I’m a good marksman, as you call it. It come quite easy like. I suppose it’s good for us, but it’s very bad for these ’ere Malay chaps, and it does make me feel a bit squirmy when one of them gives me a chance, and then it’soracle, phit, and down he goes, and me loading again. I don’t want to shoot them. But then if I don’t keep on knocking them over they’ll knock us over, and I’ve got such a kind of liking for PP that I’d sooner shoot one of them than that they should shoot me. Still, there is something a bit queer about it.”“You are doing your duty, Pete, fighting for your country.”“I say, sir, that ain’t quite right, is it? Seems to me that I’m fighting for these ’ere people’s country.”“We needn’t go into that, Pete. You are doing your duty—fighting for your comrades in defence of this station and the women and children.”“There he goes again, sir. Just you listen. It makes me wish I could understand what he’s saying.”Archie turned sharply, for from the part of the room where the Frenchman was lying upon one of the mats Mrs Smithers had placed for him, with another rolled-up to form his pillow, came the quick, excited utterance of the terribly injured man.He was delirious, and evidently in his wanderings was going over something that had impressed him strongly, and almost at his first utterances in his own tongue he attracted the subaltern to his side.Archie was no good French scholar, but that tongue had formed part of his studies at a public school, and he had been somewhat of a favourite with the French master, who had encouraged his pupils in acquiring French conversation by making them his companions in his country walks.The sufferer’s first utterance was an expression of anger at somebody whom he was addressing, calling him animbécile; and then Archie pretty clearly gathered his meaning. He was telling the man to be careful, and to give him something so that he could do it himself.“No,” he said, “you don’t understand. I wish I could tell you in your own tongue. There, your hands are trembling; you are afraid. You hate these people, but not with the great hate I feel towards them, who am their natural enemy. There, give me the two bags. Yes, it is bad powder; not such as, if I had known, I might have brought from my own country. What is it? You hear some one coming? Lie down. No one can see us here, shut in behind these trees. You are afraid they will shoot? Bah! Let them! They could not aim at us in this darkness. Be brave, as I am. Recollect what I told you before we started to creep here: if we fire, it will destroy all their ammunition. They will be defenceless, and it will be easy for your prince to slay and capture all these wretched British usurpers of your prince’s country. And I shall be the Rajah’s great friend and counsellor, and make him great, so that he will become a glorious prince and reign over a happy, contented people. There, you are not afraid now. Your hand trembles, though. Well, help me to pour out what is in this bag in a heap over that pile of boxes. Do not tremble so. Nothing can hurt us now. That is good. Now stand there, behind those bushes, and tell me if you hear any of the enemy coming. That is good, and there is the good work done. Quick! Now the other bag. My faith, how you tremble! Now my hand—hold it tight and lead me through the darkness back to the way we came—in silence, so that the enemy shall not hear. No, no—too fast! Do you not understand? You must lead me so that I can pour the powder from the bag as I walk backwards and lay the train.”The Frenchman ceased his utterance, and though Archie missed some of his words, the scene that must have taken place in the darkness of the jungle surrounding the magazine seemed to start out vividly and picture itself before the listener’s eyes. Then the sufferer began to speak again, in a low, quick, excited way.“Ah! Idiot! Clumsy! I could have done better without you. Do you not understand? You have trampled over the careful train I have laid, and I must scatter more, or the plan will fail. Stay here till I come back to you.—Curses! He has gone. What matter? I can finish now. That is well. There is plenty, and it cannot fail. Now the matches.—Stop. Is the way clear? I shall have time—and—yes, I can find my way as I did before. I was mad to bring that shivering idiot. He has been in my way all through. But no; he did carry the bag, and the task that brings ruin and destruction upon these English is nearly done. Now—the matches. Ah! Confusion! The box must have been wet. Now another; then quick! The moment the fire begins to run. Confusion! Is it that the matches are wet? No. I am all in water, and the touch from my fingers prevents the match from striking. Now—ah, that is better. But hark! Could the sentry have seen that? No. I am trembling like that coward Malay. Courage, my friend. It is such a little thing to do. But I must hasten, before the powder spoils upon the damp ground, where everything drips with the heavy dew. Courage, my friend—courage! It is such a little thing, and for the glory of my beautiful France, and for my great revenge against these English and their officers, while my prince will rule in peace, and—yes, my faith! I shall rule him now. Crack! That match burns, and—hiss—the train begins to run, and so must I. Ah! My faith! I am going wrong. These trees catch my feet with their frightful tangle, and the light dazzles my eyes. My faith! My faith! I am lost!”So vivid seemed the picture that the listener’s brow grew moist, and he turned shuddering away, to see that Peter was watching him curiously; and both lads started now as a wild cry of horror and despair arose from the rough pallet on which the sufferer lay struggling feebly.“I’d say as you would, Mister Archie, sir: ‘Poor beggar!’ for he must be feeling very bad with his burns; but he don’t deserve it. It was his own doing. Could you make out what he was talking about?”“A great deal of it, Pete.”“What was he saying of, sir?”“Poor wretch! He’s quite off his head. He seemed to be talking about how he tried to blow up the magazine.”“Said he was sorry for it, perhaps, sir?”“No, Pete; I didn’t catch that.”“Ah, well, he would be, sir, because he didn’t get away fast enough. A chap who would do a thing like that wouldn’t feel sorry for it if he hadn’t got caught.—I say,pst! Look here, Mister Archie.”“What is it?”“I was only just in time to catch sight of them. Think of it! I only turned my head to talk to you, but two of them took advantage and crept right close up behind that bush. Can you see ’em?”“No.”“Well, I can, sir, or think I can, because I saw them for a moment as they dashed in. You stand back from the window, sir. There’s only shelter for one, and that’s me.”“Are you going to fire?”“Don’t quite know, sir. Depends on them. They must have seen you when you stood looking out before that Frenchman began to talk. I could send a shot right through the bush, and it might hit one of them; but then it mightn’t, and I should have wasted a cartridge. I think I’ll wait till they come out to shoot or chuck a spear, and then I can be sure. What do you say?”“That will be quite right, Pete; and I will go on now. Why, Joe Smithers ought to be able to spot any one hiding behind that bush. I’ll go round by where he’s posted and see.”“Ought to be able to see for hisself,” grumbled Peter; and as Archie turned to reach the door, unaware of the fact that he was exposing himself a little, Peter raised his rifle to his shoulder and fired a snap shot, just as simultaneously Archie started at the brushing by his cheek of a spear which came through the window with a low trajectory and stuck with a softthudinto something at the far end of the room.“Missed him!” said Peter in an angry, impatient way. “No, I ain’t. It was only chance it, though. Ah! Would you?” For another spear flashed through the window, making one of the young men duck down, while the other started aside.Then their eyes met in a curious look of horror, and for a few minutes neither spoke.“Think of that, now, Mister Archie!” said Peter, as his trembling fingers were playing about the breech of his rifle.“Horrible!” said Archie, as he recalled the confession to which he had listened.“Yes, sir; ’orrid, ain’t it? And that was a chance shot, too, though he meant it for you. I say, sir, he won’t blow up no more magazines;” and Peter made a great smudge across his moist forehead with his powder-blackened hand. For the second spear had found its billet in the chest of the Frenchman, whose sufferings were at an end.
The Doctor was busy with his patients in the heat of the day, loosening one poor fellow’s bandage, and tightening another that an irritable sufferer had worked loose; while Mrs Smithers was thoroughly proving her ability at using basin and sponge over the brows of some poor, fevered fellow whose pillow-less head rolled slowly from side to side. Archie was taking the mess-room on his way to visit the chamber where Peter Pegg was stationed, and from whose window an occasional shot rang out from time to time, with the result of the gaudily robed Malay in a smart, cavalry-like cap, who had drawn the shot, being seen no more.
“How am I, Mister Archie, sir? Oh, it’s rather hot here, sir,” said Mrs Smithers; and then, in response to a second: ‘Yes, old lady, or, I should say, Madame la Duchesse’—“Now, please, sir, don’t you get calling me names too. I don’t mind from the Doctor, but it teases when it comes from a young gent like you. No, sir, I ain’t cross, only a bit worried by the flies. They are terrible, and it’s all due to its being so hot.”
“Yes, Mrs Smithers,” said Archie meaningly. “It is hot, and no mistake. But how beautiful and tidy you have got everything!”
“Well, it is a bit better, sir. I have been collecting all the mats I could find for the poor boys. Do you hear any news, sir, of reinforcements coming up?”
“Not yet, old lady.”
“I do wish they’d come, sir; and oh, Mr Archie, can’t I do anything for you?”
“Me? No! I am not wounded.”
“No, sir; but, oh dear, what a state you are in! Some clean things would be a blessing to you.”
“Oh, wait a bit. One’s got something else to think about now. Where’s the Doctor?”
“He was here just this minute, sir; and he’s sure not to be long, for I never see such a man for watching everybody who’s in hospital. There, I thought so! Here he is, with the mess water-can and a clean glass. He might have asked me to fetch some water if he wanted it. But he always will interfere with what’s in my department.”
“Hullo, Maine, my lad, you here! You are just in time. I’ve been fetching a can of this clear, sparkling water for my poor fellows. Look sharp, for I can see several eyes looking at it hungrily—I mean thirstily,” he added quickly.
He filled the glass after the fashion of Dickens’s butler, trying to froth it up with a heading of sparkling beads.
“May I drink this, Doctor?” said Archie.
“Drink it? Of course! You are one of my patients still.”
“Thanks. But ladies first.—Here, Mrs Smithers; you look tired and hot. I will have the next glass.”
“No, sir, please,” said the woman firmly. “You want it worse than I do.”
“Don’t waste time,” said the Doctor sternly. “Drink the water, my lad.”
The deliciously cool draught trickled down Archie’s throat till the bottom of the glass became top.
“De-licious,” he said.
The Doctor took the glass, filled it, emptied it, smacked his lips, and then refilled and handed it to Mrs Smithers.
“Your turn, nurse,” he said. “Then take the can and go all round, and finish off by taking a glass up to the Frenchman.”
“Ah, I was looking round, sir, for him,” said Archie.
“Yes, I am getting too full here, my lad. I have had him carried up to that room where Pegg’s on duty.”
“Oh, I’m going there, sir, and I shall see him.”
“One moment, Duchess; half a glass, please. I feel like a volcanic cinder.—As you say, my lad—de-licious,” he continued, as he handed back the glass. “I am proud of that water, and so you ought to be.”
“I am, Doctor.”
“That’s all due to me, sir. When we first came—you know the Major’s way—‘Nonsense,’ he said. ‘There will be three hundred idle men here with nothing to do, and they can fetch as much water as we want for the day’s supply from the river.’ And I said, ‘No. In a hot country like this I want my men to have good, pure, sparkling well water, and not to be forced to drink croc and campong drainage soup. I want a thoroughly good well dug by an engineering company.’ I got it, too, just when he was red-hot over his idea for a magazine. And now, sir, there’s my well, always full of that delicious spring water that will do the men more good than any medicine I can exhibit; and where’s his magazine? You tell me that.”
“If he were here, Doctor, he’d tell you that he’d rather have the magazine intact than the well.”
“Never mind. I’ve got the water.”
“Yes, Doctor. But how’s Mrs Morley?”
“Ah, poor dear soul!” replied the Doctor, and his eyes looked moist. “Worked to death, thank goodness!”
“Thank goodness?” said Archie wonderingly.
“Yes, my lad. It keeps her from thinking and fretting about Minnie. I’ll tell her you asked after her, my boy. It will please her, for she doesn’t know what a reckless young scamp you are, and she always talks of you as if you were her own boy. Going?”
“Yes, Doctor.”
“All right and square, my boy? No shot or spear holes in you?”
“No, sir; I’m as sound as sound.”
“That’s right. If you do get into any trouble, you know where I am; and though I don’t want you, you will be welcome to our mess—and a nice mess we are in, eh, Archie?—Come, look sharp, you British soldiers, and clear away all this scum.”
“Only too glad, sir,” said Archie, and he hurried away to have a few words with the sentry who commanded the landing-place, and who was so intent at the window, watching the edge of the jungle, that he did not hear his visitor till he spoke.
“Got company, Mister Archie, sir? Yes; that French chap. Doctor said if he was not brought up here where he’d be quiet he would go off sudden like. Not very cheerful company, for he’s awful bad, and when he does talk it’s all in hisparly-voo, kesky say, pally wag banglingo that don’t mean nothing as I can make out.”
“Ah, poor fellow! I suppose he’s very bad.”
“Oh, that’s right, sir! Poor fellow, and we are all very sorry for him and much obliged because he was kind enough to come and blow all our cartridges to Jericho, or elsewhere, as they say on the soldiers’ letters. You stop here a little while, sir, and you will hear him begin to jabber. Talk about that mahout’spa-ta-ta-ma-ta-ja-ja-ja—this chap goes twice as fast.”
“Well, Pete, I can’t stop talking to you. I only wanted to take you in my round. Are you all right?”
“Right as a trivet, sir; only I am getting awful short of ammunition. I don’t want to keep on potting these ’ere fellows, but somehow I took to rifle-shooting. There’s some fun in hitting a mark at a distance, and that’s the only thing I ever got a kind word for from old Tipsy. He said I could shoot.”
“Yes, you are a very good marksman, Pete; and that’s why you are stationed here.”
“Yes, I suppose so, sir. But ’tain’t my fault that I’m a good marksman, as you call it. It come quite easy like. I suppose it’s good for us, but it’s very bad for these ’ere Malay chaps, and it does make me feel a bit squirmy when one of them gives me a chance, and then it’soracle, phit, and down he goes, and me loading again. I don’t want to shoot them. But then if I don’t keep on knocking them over they’ll knock us over, and I’ve got such a kind of liking for PP that I’d sooner shoot one of them than that they should shoot me. Still, there is something a bit queer about it.”
“You are doing your duty, Pete, fighting for your country.”
“I say, sir, that ain’t quite right, is it? Seems to me that I’m fighting for these ’ere people’s country.”
“We needn’t go into that, Pete. You are doing your duty—fighting for your comrades in defence of this station and the women and children.”
“There he goes again, sir. Just you listen. It makes me wish I could understand what he’s saying.”
Archie turned sharply, for from the part of the room where the Frenchman was lying upon one of the mats Mrs Smithers had placed for him, with another rolled-up to form his pillow, came the quick, excited utterance of the terribly injured man.
He was delirious, and evidently in his wanderings was going over something that had impressed him strongly, and almost at his first utterances in his own tongue he attracted the subaltern to his side.
Archie was no good French scholar, but that tongue had formed part of his studies at a public school, and he had been somewhat of a favourite with the French master, who had encouraged his pupils in acquiring French conversation by making them his companions in his country walks.
The sufferer’s first utterance was an expression of anger at somebody whom he was addressing, calling him animbécile; and then Archie pretty clearly gathered his meaning. He was telling the man to be careful, and to give him something so that he could do it himself.
“No,” he said, “you don’t understand. I wish I could tell you in your own tongue. There, your hands are trembling; you are afraid. You hate these people, but not with the great hate I feel towards them, who am their natural enemy. There, give me the two bags. Yes, it is bad powder; not such as, if I had known, I might have brought from my own country. What is it? You hear some one coming? Lie down. No one can see us here, shut in behind these trees. You are afraid they will shoot? Bah! Let them! They could not aim at us in this darkness. Be brave, as I am. Recollect what I told you before we started to creep here: if we fire, it will destroy all their ammunition. They will be defenceless, and it will be easy for your prince to slay and capture all these wretched British usurpers of your prince’s country. And I shall be the Rajah’s great friend and counsellor, and make him great, so that he will become a glorious prince and reign over a happy, contented people. There, you are not afraid now. Your hand trembles, though. Well, help me to pour out what is in this bag in a heap over that pile of boxes. Do not tremble so. Nothing can hurt us now. That is good. Now stand there, behind those bushes, and tell me if you hear any of the enemy coming. That is good, and there is the good work done. Quick! Now the other bag. My faith, how you tremble! Now my hand—hold it tight and lead me through the darkness back to the way we came—in silence, so that the enemy shall not hear. No, no—too fast! Do you not understand? You must lead me so that I can pour the powder from the bag as I walk backwards and lay the train.”
The Frenchman ceased his utterance, and though Archie missed some of his words, the scene that must have taken place in the darkness of the jungle surrounding the magazine seemed to start out vividly and picture itself before the listener’s eyes. Then the sufferer began to speak again, in a low, quick, excited way.
“Ah! Idiot! Clumsy! I could have done better without you. Do you not understand? You have trampled over the careful train I have laid, and I must scatter more, or the plan will fail. Stay here till I come back to you.—Curses! He has gone. What matter? I can finish now. That is well. There is plenty, and it cannot fail. Now the matches.—Stop. Is the way clear? I shall have time—and—yes, I can find my way as I did before. I was mad to bring that shivering idiot. He has been in my way all through. But no; he did carry the bag, and the task that brings ruin and destruction upon these English is nearly done. Now—the matches. Ah! Confusion! The box must have been wet. Now another; then quick! The moment the fire begins to run. Confusion! Is it that the matches are wet? No. I am all in water, and the touch from my fingers prevents the match from striking. Now—ah, that is better. But hark! Could the sentry have seen that? No. I am trembling like that coward Malay. Courage, my friend. It is such a little thing to do. But I must hasten, before the powder spoils upon the damp ground, where everything drips with the heavy dew. Courage, my friend—courage! It is such a little thing, and for the glory of my beautiful France, and for my great revenge against these English and their officers, while my prince will rule in peace, and—yes, my faith! I shall rule him now. Crack! That match burns, and—hiss—the train begins to run, and so must I. Ah! My faith! I am going wrong. These trees catch my feet with their frightful tangle, and the light dazzles my eyes. My faith! My faith! I am lost!”
So vivid seemed the picture that the listener’s brow grew moist, and he turned shuddering away, to see that Peter was watching him curiously; and both lads started now as a wild cry of horror and despair arose from the rough pallet on which the sufferer lay struggling feebly.
“I’d say as you would, Mister Archie, sir: ‘Poor beggar!’ for he must be feeling very bad with his burns; but he don’t deserve it. It was his own doing. Could you make out what he was talking about?”
“A great deal of it, Pete.”
“What was he saying of, sir?”
“Poor wretch! He’s quite off his head. He seemed to be talking about how he tried to blow up the magazine.”
“Said he was sorry for it, perhaps, sir?”
“No, Pete; I didn’t catch that.”
“Ah, well, he would be, sir, because he didn’t get away fast enough. A chap who would do a thing like that wouldn’t feel sorry for it if he hadn’t got caught.—I say,pst! Look here, Mister Archie.”
“What is it?”
“I was only just in time to catch sight of them. Think of it! I only turned my head to talk to you, but two of them took advantage and crept right close up behind that bush. Can you see ’em?”
“No.”
“Well, I can, sir, or think I can, because I saw them for a moment as they dashed in. You stand back from the window, sir. There’s only shelter for one, and that’s me.”
“Are you going to fire?”
“Don’t quite know, sir. Depends on them. They must have seen you when you stood looking out before that Frenchman began to talk. I could send a shot right through the bush, and it might hit one of them; but then it mightn’t, and I should have wasted a cartridge. I think I’ll wait till they come out to shoot or chuck a spear, and then I can be sure. What do you say?”
“That will be quite right, Pete; and I will go on now. Why, Joe Smithers ought to be able to spot any one hiding behind that bush. I’ll go round by where he’s posted and see.”
“Ought to be able to see for hisself,” grumbled Peter; and as Archie turned to reach the door, unaware of the fact that he was exposing himself a little, Peter raised his rifle to his shoulder and fired a snap shot, just as simultaneously Archie started at the brushing by his cheek of a spear which came through the window with a low trajectory and stuck with a softthudinto something at the far end of the room.
“Missed him!” said Peter in an angry, impatient way. “No, I ain’t. It was only chance it, though. Ah! Would you?” For another spear flashed through the window, making one of the young men duck down, while the other started aside.
Then their eyes met in a curious look of horror, and for a few minutes neither spoke.
“Think of that, now, Mister Archie!” said Peter, as his trembling fingers were playing about the breech of his rifle.
“Horrible!” said Archie, as he recalled the confession to which he had listened.
“Yes, sir; ’orrid, ain’t it? And that was a chance shot, too, though he meant it for you. I say, sir, he won’t blow up no more magazines;” and Peter made a great smudge across his moist forehead with his powder-blackened hand. For the second spear had found its billet in the chest of the Frenchman, whose sufferings were at an end.
Chapter Thirty Seven.The Doctor’s Cartridges.The position of the beleaguered occupants of the Residency grew worse and worse. There had been three different brief despatches from the detachments, but the information conveyed was very small. In each case the commander announced that he was in full pursuit of the Rajah, who had thrown off the mask and taken to the jungle; and after reading the despatches over to the Resident the Major had uttered a grunt and said:“One would think there were three Rajahs instead of one.”He had sent replies by native runners, urging upon his subordinates the necessity for an immediate return, so as to strengthen the position of the Residency, and stating that, from news that had come in, it was evident that Rajah Hamet had also thrown off the mask and was waiting, undoubtedly to make an attack in conjunction with Rajah Suleiman.“We shall be hard pressed,” he said emphatically, “and I must call upon you to rally at once. Sir Charles is sending a despatch to Singapore, telling of the uneasy state of the native princes, and the sore straits in which we find ourselves; but it will be some time before a messenger can reach the Governor, and Suleiman’s men are pressing me hard. As you well know, it must be many days before a gunboat can reach us here.”No reply reached headquarters, for, however wanting in generalship Suleiman might have been, he took care that no messengers should pass his people in either direction, and, in fact, the Major’s appeal to his officers never reached their hands, and the cunning Malays kept up the appearance of being in full retreat, leading the detachments farther and farther into the intricate mazes of the jungle.Meanwhile it was not only the ammunition that was running out but the provisions. But there was an ample supply in the various stores of the settlement, and these under ordinary circumstances would have been largely supplemented at the little market held by the people of the neighbouring campongs. But after the attack by Suleiman’s men not a single native made his appearance, and, as was afterwards proved, no Malay, save at the risk of losing his life, dared to approach the military quarters.“It seems so hard,” said the Resident, “that after Dr Morley and I had gone over the matter as we did respecting provisioning the place, we should not have made other arrangements for warehousing our permanent supplies. I felt that, with a strong military force for the protection of the storehouses, nothing more could be done.”“No; nobody blames you, Sir Charles, for no foresight could have seen that the place would be denuded of troops, and that the enemy would close us in so completely that no man could approach a ware or store house without risking having a spear in his back.”“Ah,” said the Doctor, “it’s lucky for us all that I beat you, Major, and got my well dug.”“Yes, Morley,” said the Major sharply; “and no one’s more glad than I am. But you needn’t tell us all about it quite so often.”The Doctor chuckled, for in spite of the terrible demands that were made upon him he was generally in pretty good spirits.“Well, I won’t say any more about it, but you military men, who get all the honour and glory, might let your poor doctor have a little bit of praise.”“Well, what’s to be done? We must have a couple or more sacks of that Indian meal from the store to-day. We cannot sit here and starve. And at the same time more of the necessaries of life, or what we have in time come to consider necessaries, must be obtained for the women and children.”“Yes,” said the Doctor. “My hands are full with dealing with the wounded. I can’t have the poor, starving women coming into hospital to be treated for exhaustion, and the children upon my hands dying like flies.”“No,” said the Major; “we must call for volunteers, Sir Charles, to cut our way through the enemy to the store.”“No, no,” said the Doctor; “I forbid that.”“Why?” said the Major angrily.“Because it means half-a-dozen or a dozen more wounded men to crowd my hospital.”“Hah!” ejaculated the Major. “And I can’t spare one.”“Then look here,” said the Doctor; “call for your volunteers—or for one volunteer at a time. You see, with their cunning and subtlety they know beforehand that we must be ready to do anything to get at the stores, and consequently they keep the strictest watch, with spearmen ready to let fly at any poor wretch who approaches either of the buildings.”“Yes, yes, we know that, Doctor,” said the Resident peevishly.“Then why don’t you meet cunning with cunning?” replied the Doctor. “Surely the Major can pick up some clever, sharp fellow who will crawl in the darkness past the enemy’s pickets and bring back something, if it’s only one sack of meal.”“That would be better than nothing, Doctor.—We’ll try; eh, Major?”“Of course; of course.”The little council of war was being held in the hottest part of the day, when the attacking enemy seemed to have drawn off for a while amongst the trees, and most of the beleaguered were grouped around in the shadow of veranda and tree to listen to the discussion.“Well,” said the Resident, “I can’t ask either of my native servants who have been true to us to risk his life for us. We should never see them again, for the enemy would be sure to make an extra effort to spear them.”“Quite out of the question, Sir Charles,” said the Doctor.—“Now, Major, we must look to you again.—What’s that, Mrs Smithers?”“I was only going to say, sir, that my Joe is a big, strong fellow, and he’ll volunteer to try and get a sack of flour to-night.”“Eh? What’s that?” cried the private.“You heard what was said, Joe. What do you mean by shaking your head like that?”“Oh, I’m not the right man,” he said. “I can carry my rifle, but I’m an out-and-out bad one at carrying sacks.”“Nonsense, Joe,” said his wife. “You can do anything that a British soldier can.”“Nay, missus,” said Smithers; “’tain’t in my way at all. If it was my officers wanted a stone jar of rack or a dozen of bottled ale, I might manage ’em, but I’m nowhere with sacks.”“Never mind, then,” said Mrs Smithers tartly; “I’ll go myself.”“Nay, you won’t,” said Joe, shaking his head more hard than ever.—“I’ll go, gen’lemen. She wants to be a widow, but I look to you, Doctor, not to let her be if I come to quarters with a sack of meal pinned on to my back with a spear.”That night Joe Smithers managed to crawl right round the outskirts of the settlement, got into the store from the other side, and returned by the same circuitous way with a sack of meal and such instructions to his messmates that two more men started at once and foraged with a like success. But that was only a temporary alleviation of the troubles of the beleaguered, and twice over, when off duty, Archie summoned Peter to accompany him to the lower part of the river, where they succeeded, at great risk, in wading off to a boat, fishing for three parts of the night, and returning after very fair success.Then came a day when the enemy had been more energetic than ever, and three more of the Major’s little force were carried into hospital suffering badly from spear-wounds, and this just at a time when, in a whisper, the announcement had gone round that there were very few cartridges left.The Doctor had just finished tending his men with the help of Mrs Morley, for Joe Smithers’s wife had broken down from being brought face to face with her well-scolded husband, who was carried in by two comrades and laid at her feet.“Oh Joe,” she cried, “how could you?”“I didn’t, missus. It was one of them ugly, flat-nosed chaps, who managed to put a spear into me; but I give him the bayonet in return. But ain’t you going to tie me up?”“Oh, yes, yes, Joe dear!” she cried, hurrying to fetch her lotah and sponge; while the Doctor came up from the other side, frowning severely, and then making a dash to catch the unhappy woman and save her from falling, for poor Mrs Smithers, the strong and never-tiring, had fainted dead away for the first time in her life. The consequence was that the Doctor’s wife stood by his side till the last dressing had been applied, and then sat in the veranda to discuss with him a glass of his favourite water and talk in a whisper about the perils of their position.“Yes,” said the Doctor; “it’s a very bad lookout, my dear. I have seen some bad times, but this is the worst of all, and you have no business here.”“Why not, dear?” she said softly.“Because our poor fellows are doing the best they can to protect us, but at any moment one of these savage beasts might make a dash and send his lim-bing flying and hit you.”“Isn’t it just as risky for you, dear?” said Mrs Morley quietly.“Oh, but I am a doctor, and doctors don’t count.”“Nor doctors’ wives,” said Mrs Morley quietly. “I shall stay. Now, tell me, isn’t it very strange that neither of the detachments have made their way back?”“No, my dear. They are right out in the jungle, and that explains everything. Perhaps they are being lured farther and farther on by the Rajah; or perhaps,” he added to himself, “the poor fellows have been surrounded and speared.—Oh,” he added aloud, “we may hear a bugle at any moment, and see the lads come in with a dash. Don’t you bother your head about military matters, but help me to bring the wounded round.”“I will, dear,” said the poor woman quietly; “but tell me this—”“Is it military?” said the Doctor.“No, no, no, no. I was only going to say, have any of the men seen anything of that big fellow, Dula’s husband?”“No,” said the Doctor. “He and his wife disappeared during the attack, didn’t they?”“Yes,” said Mrs Morley. “I’m afraid they lost their lives.”“Humph! Maybe,” said the Doctor. “It is quite enough for them to be seen here with us to bring upon them the enemy’s spears. But don’t, please, my dear—don’t! I’ve never said a word, but you know that I have felt it as cruelly as you, and I would have done anything to have gone up the river with those two people to try to bring back our poor child.”“Yes, yes, I know; and I have tried, dear, to keep my sorrow to myself.—Hush, hush! Here’s Archie Maine. Not a word before him.”Mrs Morley held out her hand to the young man as he came up, and the Doctor nodded shortly as he saw the lad’s contracted, anxious face.“Anything fresh, boy?” said the Doctor.“No; only the old bad news: we are coming down to the last cartridge for the rifles, and we officers have only too few for our revolvers.”“Well,” said the Doctor, “you know what the Major said. There are the bayonets.”“Last cartridges,” said Mrs Morley thoughtfully.“Yes, my dear. It’s no use to hide anything from you. The poor fellows’ pouches are pretty well empty.”“Oh, by the way,” said Archie quickly, “those three poor fellows who were just brought in—what about their pouches?”“Oh, the bearers pretty well fought for them,” said the Doctor bitterly, “and divided the spoil. Two men got one apiece, the other a couple.”“But, Henry dear,” said the Doctor’s wife, laying her hand upon his arm, “what about your double rifle at home?”“Double gun, my dear, and one barrel rifled. I haven’t done much sporting with that lately. I was to have a tiger-shoot. But what do you mean? Do you want me to begin potting at the enemy?”“No, dear; I was thinking about the cartridges.”“Yes, Doctor,” cried Archie excitedly. “You must have a lot of cartridges.”“I had four boxes, my lad—two of shot, large and small, and two of ball-cartridges for the tigers. But I haven’t the least idea where they are.”“But I know, dear—on the store-room floor. I put them there to be dry.”“Good girl! But they’re no use for our men’s rifles.”“The powder would be, Doctor,” said Archie; “and you might let us have the rifle for one of the men.”“Yes, of course,” said the Doctor bitterly. “But how are you going to get them here?”“Yes,” said Archie thoughtfully; “how are we going to get them here?”“Why, my lad,” said the Doctor, “to reach the bungalow you would have to go through a little forest of spears, and if our lads managed to cut you out it would be only another patient for me to heal—if I could,” he added softly—“and the one we could least spare.”“Poor boy!” said Mrs Morley as Archie went slowly away. “I wish I hadn’t mentioned the cartridges. Surely he won’t dream of trying to get them?”“Oh no; it’s an impossibility. He would never be so mad.”“I don’t know,” said Mrs Morley. “After what has been done by the men in volunteering to fetch in food, he will be offering to make some such dreadful venture.”“Then he sha’n’t,” said the Doctor fiercely, “for I will make it my duty to put the Major on his guard.”
The position of the beleaguered occupants of the Residency grew worse and worse. There had been three different brief despatches from the detachments, but the information conveyed was very small. In each case the commander announced that he was in full pursuit of the Rajah, who had thrown off the mask and taken to the jungle; and after reading the despatches over to the Resident the Major had uttered a grunt and said:
“One would think there were three Rajahs instead of one.”
He had sent replies by native runners, urging upon his subordinates the necessity for an immediate return, so as to strengthen the position of the Residency, and stating that, from news that had come in, it was evident that Rajah Hamet had also thrown off the mask and was waiting, undoubtedly to make an attack in conjunction with Rajah Suleiman.
“We shall be hard pressed,” he said emphatically, “and I must call upon you to rally at once. Sir Charles is sending a despatch to Singapore, telling of the uneasy state of the native princes, and the sore straits in which we find ourselves; but it will be some time before a messenger can reach the Governor, and Suleiman’s men are pressing me hard. As you well know, it must be many days before a gunboat can reach us here.”
No reply reached headquarters, for, however wanting in generalship Suleiman might have been, he took care that no messengers should pass his people in either direction, and, in fact, the Major’s appeal to his officers never reached their hands, and the cunning Malays kept up the appearance of being in full retreat, leading the detachments farther and farther into the intricate mazes of the jungle.
Meanwhile it was not only the ammunition that was running out but the provisions. But there was an ample supply in the various stores of the settlement, and these under ordinary circumstances would have been largely supplemented at the little market held by the people of the neighbouring campongs. But after the attack by Suleiman’s men not a single native made his appearance, and, as was afterwards proved, no Malay, save at the risk of losing his life, dared to approach the military quarters.
“It seems so hard,” said the Resident, “that after Dr Morley and I had gone over the matter as we did respecting provisioning the place, we should not have made other arrangements for warehousing our permanent supplies. I felt that, with a strong military force for the protection of the storehouses, nothing more could be done.”
“No; nobody blames you, Sir Charles, for no foresight could have seen that the place would be denuded of troops, and that the enemy would close us in so completely that no man could approach a ware or store house without risking having a spear in his back.”
“Ah,” said the Doctor, “it’s lucky for us all that I beat you, Major, and got my well dug.”
“Yes, Morley,” said the Major sharply; “and no one’s more glad than I am. But you needn’t tell us all about it quite so often.”
The Doctor chuckled, for in spite of the terrible demands that were made upon him he was generally in pretty good spirits.
“Well, I won’t say any more about it, but you military men, who get all the honour and glory, might let your poor doctor have a little bit of praise.”
“Well, what’s to be done? We must have a couple or more sacks of that Indian meal from the store to-day. We cannot sit here and starve. And at the same time more of the necessaries of life, or what we have in time come to consider necessaries, must be obtained for the women and children.”
“Yes,” said the Doctor. “My hands are full with dealing with the wounded. I can’t have the poor, starving women coming into hospital to be treated for exhaustion, and the children upon my hands dying like flies.”
“No,” said the Major; “we must call for volunteers, Sir Charles, to cut our way through the enemy to the store.”
“No, no,” said the Doctor; “I forbid that.”
“Why?” said the Major angrily.
“Because it means half-a-dozen or a dozen more wounded men to crowd my hospital.”
“Hah!” ejaculated the Major. “And I can’t spare one.”
“Then look here,” said the Doctor; “call for your volunteers—or for one volunteer at a time. You see, with their cunning and subtlety they know beforehand that we must be ready to do anything to get at the stores, and consequently they keep the strictest watch, with spearmen ready to let fly at any poor wretch who approaches either of the buildings.”
“Yes, yes, we know that, Doctor,” said the Resident peevishly.
“Then why don’t you meet cunning with cunning?” replied the Doctor. “Surely the Major can pick up some clever, sharp fellow who will crawl in the darkness past the enemy’s pickets and bring back something, if it’s only one sack of meal.”
“That would be better than nothing, Doctor.—We’ll try; eh, Major?”
“Of course; of course.”
The little council of war was being held in the hottest part of the day, when the attacking enemy seemed to have drawn off for a while amongst the trees, and most of the beleaguered were grouped around in the shadow of veranda and tree to listen to the discussion.
“Well,” said the Resident, “I can’t ask either of my native servants who have been true to us to risk his life for us. We should never see them again, for the enemy would be sure to make an extra effort to spear them.”
“Quite out of the question, Sir Charles,” said the Doctor.—“Now, Major, we must look to you again.—What’s that, Mrs Smithers?”
“I was only going to say, sir, that my Joe is a big, strong fellow, and he’ll volunteer to try and get a sack of flour to-night.”
“Eh? What’s that?” cried the private.
“You heard what was said, Joe. What do you mean by shaking your head like that?”
“Oh, I’m not the right man,” he said. “I can carry my rifle, but I’m an out-and-out bad one at carrying sacks.”
“Nonsense, Joe,” said his wife. “You can do anything that a British soldier can.”
“Nay, missus,” said Smithers; “’tain’t in my way at all. If it was my officers wanted a stone jar of rack or a dozen of bottled ale, I might manage ’em, but I’m nowhere with sacks.”
“Never mind, then,” said Mrs Smithers tartly; “I’ll go myself.”
“Nay, you won’t,” said Joe, shaking his head more hard than ever.—“I’ll go, gen’lemen. She wants to be a widow, but I look to you, Doctor, not to let her be if I come to quarters with a sack of meal pinned on to my back with a spear.”
That night Joe Smithers managed to crawl right round the outskirts of the settlement, got into the store from the other side, and returned by the same circuitous way with a sack of meal and such instructions to his messmates that two more men started at once and foraged with a like success. But that was only a temporary alleviation of the troubles of the beleaguered, and twice over, when off duty, Archie summoned Peter to accompany him to the lower part of the river, where they succeeded, at great risk, in wading off to a boat, fishing for three parts of the night, and returning after very fair success.
Then came a day when the enemy had been more energetic than ever, and three more of the Major’s little force were carried into hospital suffering badly from spear-wounds, and this just at a time when, in a whisper, the announcement had gone round that there were very few cartridges left.
The Doctor had just finished tending his men with the help of Mrs Morley, for Joe Smithers’s wife had broken down from being brought face to face with her well-scolded husband, who was carried in by two comrades and laid at her feet.
“Oh Joe,” she cried, “how could you?”
“I didn’t, missus. It was one of them ugly, flat-nosed chaps, who managed to put a spear into me; but I give him the bayonet in return. But ain’t you going to tie me up?”
“Oh, yes, yes, Joe dear!” she cried, hurrying to fetch her lotah and sponge; while the Doctor came up from the other side, frowning severely, and then making a dash to catch the unhappy woman and save her from falling, for poor Mrs Smithers, the strong and never-tiring, had fainted dead away for the first time in her life. The consequence was that the Doctor’s wife stood by his side till the last dressing had been applied, and then sat in the veranda to discuss with him a glass of his favourite water and talk in a whisper about the perils of their position.
“Yes,” said the Doctor; “it’s a very bad lookout, my dear. I have seen some bad times, but this is the worst of all, and you have no business here.”
“Why not, dear?” she said softly.
“Because our poor fellows are doing the best they can to protect us, but at any moment one of these savage beasts might make a dash and send his lim-bing flying and hit you.”
“Isn’t it just as risky for you, dear?” said Mrs Morley quietly.
“Oh, but I am a doctor, and doctors don’t count.”
“Nor doctors’ wives,” said Mrs Morley quietly. “I shall stay. Now, tell me, isn’t it very strange that neither of the detachments have made their way back?”
“No, my dear. They are right out in the jungle, and that explains everything. Perhaps they are being lured farther and farther on by the Rajah; or perhaps,” he added to himself, “the poor fellows have been surrounded and speared.—Oh,” he added aloud, “we may hear a bugle at any moment, and see the lads come in with a dash. Don’t you bother your head about military matters, but help me to bring the wounded round.”
“I will, dear,” said the poor woman quietly; “but tell me this—”
“Is it military?” said the Doctor.
“No, no, no, no. I was only going to say, have any of the men seen anything of that big fellow, Dula’s husband?”
“No,” said the Doctor. “He and his wife disappeared during the attack, didn’t they?”
“Yes,” said Mrs Morley. “I’m afraid they lost their lives.”
“Humph! Maybe,” said the Doctor. “It is quite enough for them to be seen here with us to bring upon them the enemy’s spears. But don’t, please, my dear—don’t! I’ve never said a word, but you know that I have felt it as cruelly as you, and I would have done anything to have gone up the river with those two people to try to bring back our poor child.”
“Yes, yes, I know; and I have tried, dear, to keep my sorrow to myself.—Hush, hush! Here’s Archie Maine. Not a word before him.”
Mrs Morley held out her hand to the young man as he came up, and the Doctor nodded shortly as he saw the lad’s contracted, anxious face.
“Anything fresh, boy?” said the Doctor.
“No; only the old bad news: we are coming down to the last cartridge for the rifles, and we officers have only too few for our revolvers.”
“Well,” said the Doctor, “you know what the Major said. There are the bayonets.”
“Last cartridges,” said Mrs Morley thoughtfully.
“Yes, my dear. It’s no use to hide anything from you. The poor fellows’ pouches are pretty well empty.”
“Oh, by the way,” said Archie quickly, “those three poor fellows who were just brought in—what about their pouches?”
“Oh, the bearers pretty well fought for them,” said the Doctor bitterly, “and divided the spoil. Two men got one apiece, the other a couple.”
“But, Henry dear,” said the Doctor’s wife, laying her hand upon his arm, “what about your double rifle at home?”
“Double gun, my dear, and one barrel rifled. I haven’t done much sporting with that lately. I was to have a tiger-shoot. But what do you mean? Do you want me to begin potting at the enemy?”
“No, dear; I was thinking about the cartridges.”
“Yes, Doctor,” cried Archie excitedly. “You must have a lot of cartridges.”
“I had four boxes, my lad—two of shot, large and small, and two of ball-cartridges for the tigers. But I haven’t the least idea where they are.”
“But I know, dear—on the store-room floor. I put them there to be dry.”
“Good girl! But they’re no use for our men’s rifles.”
“The powder would be, Doctor,” said Archie; “and you might let us have the rifle for one of the men.”
“Yes, of course,” said the Doctor bitterly. “But how are you going to get them here?”
“Yes,” said Archie thoughtfully; “how are we going to get them here?”
“Why, my lad,” said the Doctor, “to reach the bungalow you would have to go through a little forest of spears, and if our lads managed to cut you out it would be only another patient for me to heal—if I could,” he added softly—“and the one we could least spare.”
“Poor boy!” said Mrs Morley as Archie went slowly away. “I wish I hadn’t mentioned the cartridges. Surely he won’t dream of trying to get them?”
“Oh no; it’s an impossibility. He would never be so mad.”
“I don’t know,” said Mrs Morley. “After what has been done by the men in volunteering to fetch in food, he will be offering to make some such dreadful venture.”
“Then he sha’n’t,” said the Doctor fiercely, “for I will make it my duty to put the Major on his guard.”
Chapter Thirty Eight.After Last Post.Meanwhile Archie, faint with heat and weariness, had made his way slowly to Peter, who was at his old post, doing double and quadruple duty as the sentry who commanded the approach to the landing-place; and as Archie entered the room he looked up eagerly.“I was thinking about you, Mister Archie, sir.”“And I was thinking about you, Pete.”“Thank you, sir. Have a drink, sir,” he continued eagerly, pointing to a brass lotah and a cocoa-nut shell. “It’s nice and fresh, sir. Mother Smithers only brought it up about two hours ago, because she said this was the hottest place in the station; and it’s splendid stuff, sir. It’s kept me awake many’s the time, when I’ve felt as I must snooze.”Archie took the cup mechanically, filled it, and handed it to his man.“After you, sir, please.”Archie raised the cup and drank.“Don’t it put you in mind, sir, of the stone jar and the helephant-shed?”“Yes, Pete. Ah, it’s rather warm, but very refreshing;” and he refilled the cup and held it to the man.“No news, I suppose, sir?”“Yes, Pete. More bad, of course; three more men down.”“Three, sir! Well, I suppose we have all got to get a taste of them spears, just have our dose, and—good luck to him!—the Doctor will set us up again.”Archie was silent for a few moments.“One of the men is poor Joe Smithers,” he said at last.“Joe Smithers!” cried Peter, letting his rifle fall into the hollow of his arm. “Joe Smithers!”“I didn’t know you cared for him so much, Pete,” said Archie, as he saw the big tears gathering in the lad’s eyes.“Oh, I liked him as a comrade, sir. He’s a good chap, and fought as well as the best of them. But it makes me feel ready to snivel, sir, about old Mother Clean-shirts. Why, it will about break her heart. Why, she was here a couple of hours ago to bring me that drinking-water, and looked as chirpy as ever.—Poor old girl!” continued Peter, as Archie told him what had passed. “It’s a bad, bad job, sir; but we soldiers has to chance it, for where there’s a lot of bad there’s always a lot of good. And look at that now! Who’s Joe Smithers as he should have such a stroke of luck and have a nurse like that?”There was silence for a few minutes, and the two lads sat gazing out of the window.“Extra quiet this afternoon, ain’t they, sir?” said Peter. “Think it means that they are making up some fresh dodge to wake us up?”“I don’t know, Pete,” said Archie sadly. “You ought to be able to bring that fellow down,” he added, pointing.“Yes, I could cripple him, easy, sir, though it is rather a long shot.”“Then why don’t you fire?”“Only got two cartridges left, sir,” replied the lad, looking at the speaker wistfully.“Cartridges!” said Archie, starting. “That’s what I came to talk to you about.”“Go it, then, sir, please, for there’s nothing I should like better to hear.—Hooray!” ejaculated Peter softly, as Archie related what had occurred. “Talk about corn in Egypt, sir! Well, we must have them.”“The Major won’t let us go, Pete.”“No, sir, I suppose not. Says it’s too risky.”The lad was silent for a few minutes, and then went on:“Yes, ’tis a bit risky, sir, for the niggers are as thick as thieves all down that way; but you and me always did like a lark with a bit of spice in it—when we was boys; and that ain’t much more than a month or two ago, sir. I should just like to get them cartridges; shouldn’t you?”“Yes, Pete, dearly; and it might be the saving of a good many lives.”“To be sure it would, sir.”“But it would be like acting in defiance of orders if we were to attempt such a thing.”“Well, if you look at it like that, sir, I suppose it would. And the Major would never forgive us—if we didn’t get them.”“No,” said Archie, “But if wedid.”“Yes, Pete, if we did he’d shut his eyes to our breach of orders.”“Well, sir, we always did like a bit of spice, as I said just now—just a bit of risk over a lark; and this is only like a serious lark to do a lot of good as well as giving us a bit of fun. I’m game, sir, if you are.”Archie was silent for a few moments, and then he said slowly:“It’s for the benefit of all, Pete. With a couple of hundred cartridges, even if half of them are small shot—”“We could kick up such a row, sir, as would make the niggers think we had no end of supplies. Let’s get them, sir.”“How, Pete?”“Oh, that means you are on, sir. How? Well, that wants a considering-cap and a little bit of thinkum-thinkum. How? Don’t quite see it yet, sir; but if you sets your mind on a thing, and comes to me—it always did end in our seeing how to do it, and that’s how it’s going to be now.” Peter began to whistle softly and then sing in a whisper about—“Some talks of Alex-ander,And some of Hercules,Of Hector and Lysander,And such brave chaps as these.“Here, I have got it, sir.”“Yes—how?” cried Archie.“A boat, sir.”“Bother! I have been thinking of boats and sampans and nagas and gunboats, and all the rest of them. How are we to do it with a boat?”“Don’t be waxy with me, Mister Archie, sir. You are in such a hurry with a chap. I said boat.”“I know you did,” said Archie gruffly.“And then you chopped me off short, sir, when I was going to say—and chance it.”“That’s what you are always saying.”“That’s true, sir; but you can’t say but what it sometimes turns up trumps.”“Well, go on. What boat?”“Any boat, sir. Anybody’s boat. Why not smuggle the one we had when we went fishing?”“We can’t do that again. There’s a fresh rumour that Rajah Hamet is bringing his men up there; and we may have an attack from the lower river at any time.”“Oh, that settles it, then,” said Peter. “We must have them cartridges before those fresh reinforcements come. All right, then, sir. We must creep round right away outside the camp, and get to the water-side half a mile beyond the spot where I was on duty and hailed you that night. There’s sure to be boats up there.”“Very likely. What then? But if there are they will be anchored right out in the river. How are we to get one?”“Swim,” said Peter laconically.“And the crocs?”“Chance it,” said Peter.“Ugh!” ejaculated Archie.“’Tain’t tempting, sir, but I’m game. Look here, Mister Archie,” continued the lad; “they say British soldiers are odd fish—and so they are—but bad as we want cartridges, ain’t four hundred of them, all new, and waiting to be used, at a time when every lad’s pouch is empty, a big enough bait to make any British soldier bite? Come on, sir; chance it!”“I will, Pete; and if one of those hideous reptiles takes me down—well, I shall have died for my country.”“I won’t, sir,” said Peter fiercely, “but I’ll die for him. I mean, I will disagree with him this ’ere way. Of course I should leave my rifle at home, but I should go that journey with a naked bayonet in my belt, and it will go rather hard before he settles me if I don’t find time to put it into his fatigue-jacket here and there.”“Yes, Pete; and, as you say, we will chance it. But when we have got the boat, what then?”“Lie quietly in the bottom, sir, and let it float down till we are off the foot of the Doctor’s garden, and then one of us will hold it ready and drop down the anchor-stone or the grapnel, and there we are.”“But suppose some of the Malays are already in the house.”“No, we won’t, sir. We are not going to suppose anything of the kind. We are going to chance it, sir.”“That’s right, Pete. When shall we start?”“What do you say, sir?”“I say to-night, directly after Last Post.”“Last Post it is, sir.”Peter had not lost the memory of differences of position, but he was thinking of two men binding themselves upon a perilous compact that might mean death to both, as he slowly stole forward a very dirty hand.The young officer to whom it was extended on his part did not see in his companion a private, but the brave, tried comrade, as he caught Peter’s powder-grimed hand in a warm grasp.And Archie’s hand was just as grubby.
Meanwhile Archie, faint with heat and weariness, had made his way slowly to Peter, who was at his old post, doing double and quadruple duty as the sentry who commanded the approach to the landing-place; and as Archie entered the room he looked up eagerly.
“I was thinking about you, Mister Archie, sir.”
“And I was thinking about you, Pete.”
“Thank you, sir. Have a drink, sir,” he continued eagerly, pointing to a brass lotah and a cocoa-nut shell. “It’s nice and fresh, sir. Mother Smithers only brought it up about two hours ago, because she said this was the hottest place in the station; and it’s splendid stuff, sir. It’s kept me awake many’s the time, when I’ve felt as I must snooze.”
Archie took the cup mechanically, filled it, and handed it to his man.
“After you, sir, please.”
Archie raised the cup and drank.
“Don’t it put you in mind, sir, of the stone jar and the helephant-shed?”
“Yes, Pete. Ah, it’s rather warm, but very refreshing;” and he refilled the cup and held it to the man.
“No news, I suppose, sir?”
“Yes, Pete. More bad, of course; three more men down.”
“Three, sir! Well, I suppose we have all got to get a taste of them spears, just have our dose, and—good luck to him!—the Doctor will set us up again.”
Archie was silent for a few moments.
“One of the men is poor Joe Smithers,” he said at last.
“Joe Smithers!” cried Peter, letting his rifle fall into the hollow of his arm. “Joe Smithers!”
“I didn’t know you cared for him so much, Pete,” said Archie, as he saw the big tears gathering in the lad’s eyes.
“Oh, I liked him as a comrade, sir. He’s a good chap, and fought as well as the best of them. But it makes me feel ready to snivel, sir, about old Mother Clean-shirts. Why, it will about break her heart. Why, she was here a couple of hours ago to bring me that drinking-water, and looked as chirpy as ever.—Poor old girl!” continued Peter, as Archie told him what had passed. “It’s a bad, bad job, sir; but we soldiers has to chance it, for where there’s a lot of bad there’s always a lot of good. And look at that now! Who’s Joe Smithers as he should have such a stroke of luck and have a nurse like that?”
There was silence for a few minutes, and the two lads sat gazing out of the window.
“Extra quiet this afternoon, ain’t they, sir?” said Peter. “Think it means that they are making up some fresh dodge to wake us up?”
“I don’t know, Pete,” said Archie sadly. “You ought to be able to bring that fellow down,” he added, pointing.
“Yes, I could cripple him, easy, sir, though it is rather a long shot.”
“Then why don’t you fire?”
“Only got two cartridges left, sir,” replied the lad, looking at the speaker wistfully.
“Cartridges!” said Archie, starting. “That’s what I came to talk to you about.”
“Go it, then, sir, please, for there’s nothing I should like better to hear.—Hooray!” ejaculated Peter softly, as Archie related what had occurred. “Talk about corn in Egypt, sir! Well, we must have them.”
“The Major won’t let us go, Pete.”
“No, sir, I suppose not. Says it’s too risky.”
The lad was silent for a few minutes, and then went on:
“Yes, ’tis a bit risky, sir, for the niggers are as thick as thieves all down that way; but you and me always did like a lark with a bit of spice in it—when we was boys; and that ain’t much more than a month or two ago, sir. I should just like to get them cartridges; shouldn’t you?”
“Yes, Pete, dearly; and it might be the saving of a good many lives.”
“To be sure it would, sir.”
“But it would be like acting in defiance of orders if we were to attempt such a thing.”
“Well, if you look at it like that, sir, I suppose it would. And the Major would never forgive us—if we didn’t get them.”
“No,” said Archie, “But if wedid.”
“Yes, Pete, if we did he’d shut his eyes to our breach of orders.”
“Well, sir, we always did like a bit of spice, as I said just now—just a bit of risk over a lark; and this is only like a serious lark to do a lot of good as well as giving us a bit of fun. I’m game, sir, if you are.”
Archie was silent for a few moments, and then he said slowly:
“It’s for the benefit of all, Pete. With a couple of hundred cartridges, even if half of them are small shot—”
“We could kick up such a row, sir, as would make the niggers think we had no end of supplies. Let’s get them, sir.”
“How, Pete?”
“Oh, that means you are on, sir. How? Well, that wants a considering-cap and a little bit of thinkum-thinkum. How? Don’t quite see it yet, sir; but if you sets your mind on a thing, and comes to me—it always did end in our seeing how to do it, and that’s how it’s going to be now.” Peter began to whistle softly and then sing in a whisper about—
“Some talks of Alex-ander,And some of Hercules,Of Hector and Lysander,And such brave chaps as these.
“Some talks of Alex-ander,And some of Hercules,Of Hector and Lysander,And such brave chaps as these.
“Here, I have got it, sir.”
“Yes—how?” cried Archie.
“A boat, sir.”
“Bother! I have been thinking of boats and sampans and nagas and gunboats, and all the rest of them. How are we to do it with a boat?”
“Don’t be waxy with me, Mister Archie, sir. You are in such a hurry with a chap. I said boat.”
“I know you did,” said Archie gruffly.
“And then you chopped me off short, sir, when I was going to say—and chance it.”
“That’s what you are always saying.”
“That’s true, sir; but you can’t say but what it sometimes turns up trumps.”
“Well, go on. What boat?”
“Any boat, sir. Anybody’s boat. Why not smuggle the one we had when we went fishing?”
“We can’t do that again. There’s a fresh rumour that Rajah Hamet is bringing his men up there; and we may have an attack from the lower river at any time.”
“Oh, that settles it, then,” said Peter. “We must have them cartridges before those fresh reinforcements come. All right, then, sir. We must creep round right away outside the camp, and get to the water-side half a mile beyond the spot where I was on duty and hailed you that night. There’s sure to be boats up there.”
“Very likely. What then? But if there are they will be anchored right out in the river. How are we to get one?”
“Swim,” said Peter laconically.
“And the crocs?”
“Chance it,” said Peter.
“Ugh!” ejaculated Archie.
“’Tain’t tempting, sir, but I’m game. Look here, Mister Archie,” continued the lad; “they say British soldiers are odd fish—and so they are—but bad as we want cartridges, ain’t four hundred of them, all new, and waiting to be used, at a time when every lad’s pouch is empty, a big enough bait to make any British soldier bite? Come on, sir; chance it!”
“I will, Pete; and if one of those hideous reptiles takes me down—well, I shall have died for my country.”
“I won’t, sir,” said Peter fiercely, “but I’ll die for him. I mean, I will disagree with him this ’ere way. Of course I should leave my rifle at home, but I should go that journey with a naked bayonet in my belt, and it will go rather hard before he settles me if I don’t find time to put it into his fatigue-jacket here and there.”
“Yes, Pete; and, as you say, we will chance it. But when we have got the boat, what then?”
“Lie quietly in the bottom, sir, and let it float down till we are off the foot of the Doctor’s garden, and then one of us will hold it ready and drop down the anchor-stone or the grapnel, and there we are.”
“But suppose some of the Malays are already in the house.”
“No, we won’t, sir. We are not going to suppose anything of the kind. We are going to chance it, sir.”
“That’s right, Pete. When shall we start?”
“What do you say, sir?”
“I say to-night, directly after Last Post.”
“Last Post it is, sir.”
Peter had not lost the memory of differences of position, but he was thinking of two men binding themselves upon a perilous compact that might mean death to both, as he slowly stole forward a very dirty hand.
The young officer to whom it was extended on his part did not see in his companion a private, but the brave, tried comrade, as he caught Peter’s powder-grimed hand in a warm grasp.
And Archie’s hand was just as grubby.