Chapter 18. A Friendly Hand

________________________________________________
_ CHAPTER EIGHTEEN. A FRIENDLY HAND

The two boys stood staring thoughtfully at each other that bright, sunny morning, for some minutes before Ned spoke again.

"They will not kill us, will they?" he said.

"Kill us? No. I should just like to catch them at it. The brutes! To take away my kris too. There's going to be a row about this as soon as my father knows."

"Then you think it's all a mistake?"

"Of course it is. I shouldn't have wondered if they'd shut you up like this, but you see they've shut up me."

"Well, you're of no more consequence than I am," said Ned, laughing in spite of his trouble and a throbbing head.

"No more consequence than you? Why, I've done as much as I liked about here for ever so long, and the people have treated me just as if I were the rajah's son. It's all your fault."

"I suppose so," said Ned, dismally.

"But if they think they're going to do just as they like, they're mistaken. Here!" he cried in Malay, "water."

There was a bit of a bustle out on the veranda, and two men came in with brass basins and cotton cloths, which they held while, without hesitation, Frank began to bathe his face.

It was a good example, and Ned followed suit, the cool, fresh water feeling delightful to his heated brow.

"Done?" said Frank, as he wiped his hands.

"Yes."

"Take away, and bring breakfast," cried Frank, haughtily, to the men, who bowed and went off with the water and towels.

"I'll let them see whether they're going to treat me like a prisoner," cried Frank.

"I wish I could be as bumptious as you are with them," said Ned, with a faint smile.

"You don't try."

"I'm so anxious."

"Oh, it's of no use to be anxious," said Frank, gazing out of the door, and then through the window with its bamboo lattice-work.

"Which house are we in?"

"I don't know. I was trying to make out, but you can only see trees. I do believe they've taken us up the river somewhere. I don't know, though. These houses are all alike. It isn't the Tumongong's, nor the Muntrie's, nor the Maharajah Lela's. Yes, I believe they've taken us up the river. The old chap has houses in all sorts of places out in the jungle, where he likes to go and hide himself sometimes, but I don't see any fun in his hiding us."

"Then they brought us up here. But how?"

"In a naga, of course."

"But in our sleep, or while we were insensible?"

"Insensible, if you like to call it so. They must have given us some stuff. They've all kinds of dodges of that sort, bless 'em! You should hear Doctor Barnes talk about the poisons they use."

"I should like to--now," said Ned, drily.

"And so you shall--before long. I'll soon get you out of this. Yes," he continued, "this is one of the old boy's places. See how fine the mats are, and how the walls are covered. But never mind now, my head's better, and here's our breakfast."

For the two men entered as the boys came back into the main room opening on to the veranda from an inspection of two side-places beautifully hung and covered with mats. Then a third man entered, and as Frank nonchalantly seated himself on the matting floor, Ned followed his example, and an excellent breakfast was placed before them.

"Not bad for being prisoners," said Frank, as he ate away; while, after the first few mouthfuls, Ned's appetite increased, and he began to enjoy the meal.

"That's right. Ruminate away, old chap. There's nothing to pay. It's the rajah's orders, sure enough, or we shouldn't be fed like this. He isn't going to kill us."

"Think not?"

"Sure of it, unless he's going to fatten us up, and then try whether we're good to eat."

"I wish I had such good spirits as you have."

"Oh, I'm getting better now. Here you, send in the head-man," cried Frank to one of their attendants.

The man bowed respectfully, and withdrew to the veranda, where they heard him speak, and directly after one of the party, evidently a man of some consequence from his silken sarong, came in.

"I want my kris," said Frank.

The man smiled, and shook his head.

"You give it me directly. It was the rajah's present."

"You will run amok," said the man.

"No. I promise. An English gentleman's promise," said Frank.

The man thrust his hand under his silken robe, and produced the handsome weapon.

"An English gentleman does not break his word," he said, giving the kris to the boy.

"Of course he doesn't. Thank you," said Frank, replacing the dagger at his waist, and covering up the hilt with a significant look at the man, who smiled and withdrew, while the boy interpreted the words which his companion had failed to grasp.

The meal being ended, they rose; the men came and cleared away, and as soon as they were alone again, Ned looked at Frank.

"What next!" he said.

"Ah, that's the puzzle! Here we are, like two dicky-birds in a cage, and they won't let us go out. If they keep us shut up long like this, it will be horrid. I wish I could send father word."

"Could we escape?"

"I don't know. We might try. What a muddle, to be sure. They think we were going to run away with Hamet, and we may talk for ever and they wouldn't believe us."

"But we can't sit here and do nothing."

"No; it will be horribly dull. Those Malay fellows like it. They can sit in the sun all day and chew betel. We can't. All we can do is to sit and eat fruit, and you can't keep up doing that always."

Sure enough the party of Malays, ten strong, who acted as their guard in the palm-thatched house, and attended to every want instantly, did sit in and below the veranda in the sun chewing betel, with their eyes half-closed, till, to use Ned's words, it nearly drove him mad.

Frank tried persuasion, bribery, threats, and then force, to get out if only for a walk; but in a patient good-humoured way the chief and his followers refused to let them pass even out on to the veranda; and all the boys knew at last of their position, as the sun went down, was that which they had learned at sunrise: they were in a house somewhere deep in the jungle, shut in by trees.

"Can't we get away when it's dark?" said Ned.

"Get away where?" cried Frank, ill-humouredly. "You ought to know by this time that you can't get through the jungle without men to chop for you."

"But there must be a path by which they brought us."

"Yes; one leading down to the river, where you could get no farther for want of a boat, and trust 'em, they'll watch that night and day. Fellows who know they'll have a kris stuck into them, and be pitched into the river if they let a prisoner escape, look out pretty sharp."

It was rapidly growing dark when Frank, who had tried lying down, sitting cross-legged, standing up, walking about, and lying on his chest, with his elbows on the bamboo flooring and his chin in his hands, suddenly exclaimed: "Have some more durian?"

"No, thank you."

"Some mangosteens?"

"No, I've had enough."

"Try some of those little bananas."

"No--no--no, I couldn't eat any more fruit."

"No more can I. Shall we tell them to bring us some curry to finish off with?"

"Oh, I say, don't talk any more about eating," cried Ned; "we seem to have done nothing else all day."

"Well, there wasn't anything else to do.--I know."

"What?"

"Let's catch the jungle fever. Then they'll be obliged to take us back to the doctor."

"Nonsense! But I say, Frank, if it's so miserable and wearisome to be shut up like this for a day, what will it be by-and-by?"

"I don't know. Never mind by-and-by," said Frank. "'Nough to do to think of just now. What shall we do?"

"Go to sleep and forget it till to-morrow morning," said Ned philosophically.

"Come," cried Frank; "that's the best thing you've said to-day. All right."

It was now so dark that they had to feel their way into the inner room, where they lay down on the mats with their heads close to the side, and they had hardly settled themselves comfortably when the chief entered the main room followed by two men, one of whom bore a lamp.

The principal Malay looked sharply round, and then said to Frank, who lay on his back with his hands under his head:

"Does my lord want anything else?"

"Yes. You to go and not bother," replied the boy ungraciously.

"Can we bring him anything?"

"Yes; a boat to take us home."

"Shall I leave the light?"

"No; take it away. I'm sleepy."

The man bowed, backed out with his followers, the matting was dropped between the two rooms and then over the doorway as they passed into the veranda.

"That's the way to talk to them," said Frank, peevishly.

"You weren't very civil."

"Well, who's going to be to people who shut you up. It's no use to be 'my lord' without you behave like one. Now let's go to sleep."

Easier said than done. First in the hot darkness came the _ping_-_wing_ of a mosquito, then the restless sound made by the boys fidgeting about, and the low dull murmur of the men talking in the veranda.

"What's that?" said Ned, suddenly.

"Bother! Go to sleep. Only our chaps walking underneath to see if all's safe below. I say," he added, after a pause, "I know what I shall do if they don't let us out soon."

"What!"

"Say I want to learn to smoke--late some evening."

"And make yourself sick."

"No; I'll make them sick. They'll bring a pipe and some burning charcoal."

"To light the pipe?"

"No; it will be to light this jolly old bamboo house. It will blaze up like fun."

"And roast us to death!"

"Not it. We won't be inside. Perhaps we can run away in the scrimmage."

Silence again, and hot, weary, and miserable, the boys lay there in the darkness, till a peculiar sound struck Ned's ear.

"Asleep?" he said.

"No; who's going to sleep if you talk so. Yes, there it is again. Hurrah!"

"Then you did hear that sound?"

"Hear it? Yes. Know what it is?"

"I thought it was a crocodile in the river."

"So it is, and it shows that the river isn't far off. I wish there were none, and then we'd cut down some bamboos and float away to the village. But not to-night. Let's go to sleep."

There was again silence, with the hot air growing unbearable, and Ned had just made up his mind to undress, when from out of the jungle, plainly heard through the thin plaited bamboo and palm walls, came a peculiar cry--_Coo-ow_, _coo-ow_--to be answered from farther away.

"What's that?" said Ned, half aloud, speaking to himself.

"Argus pheasant," said Frank, drowsily. "Oh, I do wish you wouldn't bother. Wonder whether they've got any of that stuff."

"What stuff?"

"To send us to sleep again."

"I wouldn't take a drop," thought Ned; and then in the hot silence he lay thinking about Frank's father, wondering what was going on at the rajah's village, and what his uncle thought of his absence, till weary nature closed his eyes, and even the loud cry of the argus pheasant and the melancholy howl of a tiger prowling about had no effect upon his slumbers.

But a touch effected that which sound had not produced.

For, mingled with his dreams, he had one of a great rat gnawing very softly somewhere by his head, and this kept on for what seemed in his dream like a tremendous length of time before it ceased, and the rat came in through the hole and began walking over his face and sat up on his lips.

That woke him, and he felt the perspiration standing on his brow, for it was no dream: the rat was seated on his lips, and as he lay motionless like one in a nightmare, he felt the little animal glide from his lips to his shoulder, then down his arm to where his hand lay upon his chest, play with the fingers for a few moments, and then grasp them firmly.

It was not a rat: it was a warm soft hand.

A sob escaped from Ned's breast, and he was about to speak, but his hand was pressed firmly, and he returned the grasp, for it felt like the hand of a friend, and if it were, it meant help and perhaps escape.

Turning quickly on his side, he leaned over and touched Frank, who started awake.

"Yes," he said loudly. "What is it?"

The hand was snatched away.

"I told you. Argus pheas--fez--fuz--" snore.

Ned shook him again sharply.

"What's the matter?" he said, thoroughly waking up now.

"Hush! pray. Hist!" whispered Ned; and he pressed his companion's arm, for steps were heard on the creaking bamboo floor, a light shone through between the mat hangings, a dark face appeared and a lantern was held up, so that its dim light fell upon them.

Just then a bright thought occurred to Ned.

"Tell them to bring some water," he said, querulously; and Frank, who grasped the idea that there was something particular in the way, gave the order sharply to the man, who retired directly, and returned in a few minutes with another bearing a vessel of some pleasant, cool drink, of which Ned partook with avidity.

"Leave a fellow a drop," said Frank; and the half-full vessel was handed to him. "Ah, it ain't bad," he continued, as he too drank heartily. "There, be off. Thank you," he added, in Malay; "the light hurts my eyes."

The man smiled as he took the vessel, and as Ned watched through his half-closed eyes, he saw that there was the gleam of spears in the outer room. Then the matting dropped behind their jailers, the bamboo floor creaked, the last rays of the light disappeared, and Frank rose softly, crept to the doorway, and peered under the matting.

"They're all out on the veranda," he whispered, as he returned. "What was the matter?"

Ned told him, and Frank uttered an excited "Ah!"

Then after a long silence:

"It's help come. P'r'aps it's old Hamet. Bah! you were dreaming."

"No; I am sure."

"Then," said Frank, with his lips close to his companion's ear; "if you were awake, there must be a hole for the hand to come through."

And as Ned listened, he heard the faint rustling of his companion's hand moving here and there, and then there was a heavy catching breath, and Frank's fingers were placed over his lips.

"Big hole under the mat. Behind your head. Hist! some one coming."

For there was a gleam of light, and then, hardly heard, save for a faint creak of the floor, some one approached, and Ned lay with his arm over his eyes, just making out that the lantern was thrust in, and that a head was visible between the mats and the door, while Frank lay as naturally as if in a heavy sleep, his head half off its resting-place.

The mats fell within again. There was another faint creak, the last gleam of light again disappeared, and the boys lay for a full half-hour without moving, while the silence was now broken by the heavy beating of their hearts.

All at once, after an interval which seemed terrible, the cry of the argus pheasant was repeated, and it sounded terribly near, while at the same moment Ned was conscious of a faint rustling, and the steamy dank scent of the jungle came to his nostrils.

The next moment fingers touched his cheek, were pressed upon his lips, touched his breast, and were gone directly; a slight start from Frank suggesting that he was now being touched. Then followed a faint rustling, and Frank leaned over, put his lips to Ned's ear, and said:

"The hand touched me, then went down to my waist, and it has taken my kris. It's a thief. Shall I call for help?"

At that moment he felt his hand seized and tugged. Then again, and it was drawn under the mat to the opening above their heads.

"It's all right," whispered Frank. "I'm to go first. Snore."

For a few moments the boy did not grasp his friend's meaning, but the idea came, and he commenced breathing hard, and uttered a faint sigh in his agony; for just in the midst of the rustling sound close by him, caused as he knew from a touch by Frank gliding slowly through the opening as if being drawn, he saw a gleam of light beneath the matting at the doorway, and felt that some one was coming again with the lantern.

The difficulty now was to make a noise that should sound natural. If he snored loudly it might seem forced, and if he did not, he felt sure that the rustling, scraping sound would be heard. But fortune favoured him.

Just as he was in despair, there was the sharp _ping_-_wing_ of a mosquito, and he babbled out something incoherently, made a restless movement, and slapped his face quickly twice, as he had often done before in an attempt to slay one of the noxious little insects.

The light disappeared directly, for the listening Malay was satisfied; and as Ned stretched out his hand again, he found that he was alone.

There was a terrible pause now, and in these brief moments the boy began to think that he had been forsaken, when all at once the hand touched him, glided down to his waist, and drew at it firmly.

He yielded and tried to force himself along, but did little, and that little seemed unnecessary, for strong muscles were at work, and he was almost entirely drawn through the opening till he was quite out; his legs sank down gently, and he was lowered till he felt his feet touch the ground, and a hand which he knew directly for Frank's, lay on his lips.

As he was puzzling himself as to how it had been managed, he grasped the fact that some one was gliding down the smooth trunk of a palm-tree which grew close to the house, and to which one of the bamboo rafters had been secured, but whether it was Hamet or some other friend he could not tell.

He had no more time for thinking, for two hands were placed on his shoulders, and a voice he now recognised whispered: "Down--creep-- follow."

He grasped the idea at once, and went down on hands and knees, to begin crawling slowly and softly after two bare feet, which he had to touch from time to time to make sure that he was right, while he felt that Frank was behind him, and that he too was touching his boots in the same way.

They were evidently crawling through a tunnel-like track below the undergrowth, a path probably made by a wild beast--unless it was a contrivance to escape from the back of the house in case of emergency-- and along this they crawled painfully, with the bushes on either side and overhead. Now a thorn entered hand or knee, now some kind of vegetable hook caught in their clothes, and then they had to creep round some rugged stump of a tree stem to get forward.

The distance was really not great, but it seemed painfully long, and every moment the fugitives were in expectation of having an alarm raised, and seeing the lights of the men in pursuit. But at last, just as Ned had crawled under a bush which scraped and pricked severely, he heard a rustling noise and a peculiar rippling, and was aware of the fact that their guide had risen upright, and that he too could stand.

"Ah," sighed Frank, directly after, "what a--"

"Hist!" came in a low whisper. "Stop here--don't move. Quiet;" and it seemed to Ned that the man lowered himself down till his head was on a level with his companion's knees, and a faint splashing told him where.

They were at the edge of the river, and their rescuer was slowly wading against the stream, holding on by the overhanging boughs.

Then the faint splashing ceased, and the boys joined hands, to stand awe-struck and listening in the thick darkness, and with the knowledge that the water, gliding swiftly by their feet, swarmed with monstrous reptiles, which for aught they knew might seize their guide, or be marking them down for their prey. _

Read next: Chapter 19. Down The Stream Again

Read previous: Chapter 17. Where The Boys Were

Table of content of Rajah of Dah


GO TO TOP OF SCREEN

Post your review
Your review will be placed after the table of content of this book