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The Rajah of Dah, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 24. Up The River |
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_ CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR. UP THE RIVER A halt was made as soon as the little party were well away from the boat, for arms to be examined, and a plan of attack arranged. Hamet listened respectfully till it had been decided that the only way was for the party to creep up silently, seize and bind the guard, and then retreat at once--a rather reckless proceeding, but one that seemed to them the most likely to succeed--and then he whispered a few words to Ned. "Hamet proposes, sir, that we should try to communicate with my uncle from the back of the house or the roof. He says he could climb the durian tree and break through quietly." "Then let him try," said Mr Braine, eagerly. "We will be ready to support him and attack if it is necessary." Hamet drew in his breath at these words, and assuming the lead, took the party round through garden after garden, till they were only a few yards from the house, where they stood listening to a low, murmured conversation, which told where the guards had stationed themselves; and then going down on hands and knees, he crept away from them, leaving the others breathless with excitement, and listening for the alarm. In a couple of minutes the Malay was back to catch Ned's hand and draw him away, to put in force the tactics which had enabled him to rescue the two lads on the previous night. Ned followed him with beating heart, till they were beside one of the palm-tree posts which supported the house, and then submitting to the Malay's busy hands, he found himself placed with his arms grasping the post and his body curved a little, and comprehending the man's plans, he stood firm, while Hamet reached up as high as he could, planted one bare foot on the boy's back, the other on his shoulder, and then the bamboo supports of the matting walls creaked softly, as with the agility of a monkey he passed along to where the durian tree stretched a branch over the roof, upon which, by the help of the bough, he managed to swing himself, and then all was silent again. Thump--thump--thump--thump. Ned felt his heart beat as he listened to the murmuring of the Malay guards' voices which came under the house, and as the boy stood there, his ears were strained for the next noise Hamet might make, wondering the while whether the guard would hear. He was so near the spot where Murray would be lying, that he felt he had only to raise his voice a little to announce their presence, but he dared not speak. Then he started, for he knew that Hamet was at work, for there was a faint rustling, with an occasional crack, as of the breaking of a leaf; and as the boy stood there in the darkness, he knew that Hamet was cautiously cutting through the attap thatch, scrap by scrap, for now little pieces no bigger than elm-leaves began to fall about him. This went on for what seemed to be an interminable length of time, and he began wondering how a Malay who knew so well how his fellow-countrymen made a roof, could be so long in making a hole big enough for a human body to pass, when a familiar voice close to his ear, as it seemed to him, exclaimed: "Who's there? Stop, or I fire." "Oh, uncle!" panted Ned to himself; "how could you be so stupid." Then he threw himself down, for there was the quick movement of feet, the familiar creaking of the bamboo steps in front, that he had so often ascended and descended, and then his uncle's voice said loudly: "Nothing wrong. Water--water!" And as if to himself--"I don't suppose they understand a word." But it was evident that they comprehended the last word, for the bamboo floor creaked, and Ned plainly heard the sound of some one drinking. Then came the words, "Thank you;" the floor and steps creaked again, and after all had been silent for what seemed to be half an hour, the boy rose to his feet again, conscious that Hamet was hard at work, for the scraps fell fast. Then came a pause, the faint creaking of the floor as if Murray had turned round, a dull expiration of the breath as of some one breathing very hard; and as Ned stood grasping the pillar, he felt that the slight house was quivering slightly. Ned's heart beat now fast, and in imagination he saw his uncle hanging from Hamet's hands and being drawn upward toward the sloping roof. Another creak, a loud rustle, and he knew that he had climbed--half drawn--through the palm thatch, and the pair were about to descend. "Quick, quick!" thought Ned, "before they hear you;" and longing to go to Murray's help, he strained his head back and tried to pierce the thick darkness. All at once there was an ominous crack, a violent rustling sound, and then a sharp jerk or check. Murray had slipped, and was coming down fast, but he had saved himself, and from overhead now came a sharp whisper, "Quick!" The command was needed, for the guard had taken the alarm. There was the rush of feet, a louder scrambling from above, and Hamet and Murray dropped down into the arms of the guards who came running under and round the house. The struggle had commenced, and though Murray fought bravely, he had been taken at a disadvantage, and the help had come, apparently, in vain. For, realising that the attempt had failed, Mr Braine and the doctor rushed to the assistance of the others, and a fierce melee ensued in the darkness, wherein the fresh comers, who dared not use their revolvers for fear of injuring friends, devoted their principal efforts to keeping the enemy from using their krises, weapons admirably suited for a close encounter. It was only a matter of a minute or two. "Murray--is Murray there?" cried the doctor. "Yes," came from the ground. "I'm held--two men. Never mind me--save yourselves." The fierce struggle went on almost in silence, for the Malays as they wrestled with the Englishmen, sought more to take prisoners than to strike, and uttered a low growling noise, more like that of wild beasts than men. "It's of no use," whispered the doctor. "Braine, Ned, Hamet, make for the boat." "Yes, quick! escape!" cried Murray, after a tremendous effort to get free. "No, no," cried Ned, hoarsely, wresting his arm from the doctor's clutch; and with a short run he sprang upon one of the men who were holding Murray down. The sudden action and the weight of his body in his leap drove the Malay from his hold, and, freed thus from one enemy, Murray made another desperate effort as Ned rolled over, got his right arm free, dashed his fist into his enemy's face, and sprang up. "Now!" he panted, "all together for the boat." He was striking out right and left now with nature's weapons, sending one man down, and keeping others at bay. "Where's Ned?" he panted. "Never mind me, uncle; run!" cried the boy. "By-and-by," muttered Murray, striking out again and repeating his nephew's manoeuvre, but with the addition of a blow on the ear which knocked over the man seated on Ned. "Now then, are you ready?" cried Murray, as Ned sprang up; and the Malays now gathered together, and after a few moments pause: "Look out!" cried Murray, "spears!" for the enemy were coming on again. But at that moment the doctor and Mr Braine pressed to the front, and four flashes, followed by the sharp reports of their revolvers, checked the assailants for the moment, and the party began to retreat rapidly. But shouting excitedly now, the Malays pressed on, and two spears whistled by the ears of the retreating party. "Ah, ye cowards!" cried a familiar voice; "tak that then," and shot after shot was rapidly fired, one of which was followed by a hoarse cry, and a man went down. "Sure, I forgot all about it before," said Tim; "and I hadn't so much as a shtick." "Silence!" said Mr Braine, sternly. "Don't fire again without orders. Forward, quick!" It was quite time, for there was a loud confused noise of voices from all sides now, and, greatest danger of all, from the river to which they were hastening fast. Lights were gleaming amongst the trees, some of which Mr Braine saw were from the prahus, and it was evident that they would soon have an attack to repel from that side. "No, no," whispered Hamet, just then. "This way." For in his excitement Mr Braine was leading the party wide of the boat, which was reached at last, just as lanterns were moving on the river, and voices were shouting from different directions. "Now for it!" whispered Mr Braine. "Quick! All in! Every man take an oar. We must make a dash for it. The stream will help us. Don't attempt to fire unless they board." "No, no," cried Hamet again, as they struggled into their places; and there was so much authority in his tones, that for a while all paused, and the Malay silently took one of the poles from the side, and keeping the boat well under the shelter of the bank, forced her up stream instead of down, always keeping close to the shore. Mr Braine saw the wisdom of the act directly, for the boat progressed slowly and without a splash, being a good thirty yards away as Murray's guards reached the bank just below where they had embarked. An eager shouting and interchange of questions followed; two lights were seen moving down stream in a zigzag way, and all at once a dazzling blue light began to burn a couple of hundred yards from them, lighting up one of the prahus moored in mid-stream; but though every figure on the large vessel, and the shape of another near, stood out plain, the fugitives were in darkness, and though they felt that they must be seen, Hamet worked calmly and steadily with his pole, sending the boat higher and higher, the force of the stream being only slight so close to the bank. Then, again, the wisdom of his plan became evident, for the bank was now dotted with dammar torches, and their swarthy bearers could be seen holding them over the water as they hurried down stream toward where the closing in of the jungle would soon preclude further progress on foot. The blue light burning in a vessel on the first prahu died out, but before it was extinct another flamed up from the second prahu, and the scene was wonderfully picturesque to the little party still moving up stream. Both banks were lit up, with the shapes of the trees standing out distinct and clear, while the river seemed to flow on like glittering steel, on which, growing distinct now, three nagas were visible for a few moments and then disappeared. By this time Hamet's efforts had sent the boat four hundred yards above the last prahu, and as he grew more distant, his strokes grew quicker and less cautious, till it was wonderful what speed one pair of arms kept up. And now for the first time Mr Braine leant forward to the man and whispered: "Well done; but you are taking us farther from safety." "No," said Hamet, quietly. "Up the river. Hide. Some night creep down. Back to Dindong." "Yes. I see," said Mr Braine. "He is right." Silence was preserved once more, and Hamet kept on so close in-shore that the overhanging boughs swept the thatched roof of the boat. Then all at once he thrust down his pole deep into the gravelly sand, and, as it were, anchored the boat. "Now," he said, panting with his exertions; "all take oars and row." "Yes," said Mr Braine, eagerly, and the oars were seized; but Hamet uttered a low "hist!" and all listened. For a few moments English ears failed to catch that which had struck upon the more keen sense of the Malay, but soon enough they could hear beat--beat--beat--beat--the sound of rapidly plied oars, and it was plain that a naga had now come up the river in pursuit. _ |
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