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Trapped by Malays: A Tale of Bayonet and Kris, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 18. Peter's Friend |
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_ CHAPTER EIGHTEEN. PETER'S FRIEND Phoonk! Then a peculiar squeal and grunting sound, and then once again, _Phoonk_! Peter Pegg started up into a sitting position, vacant of face and staring at the straightly streaked rays of sunshine that made their way through the plaited and latticed sides of the stable-like building in which he had dropped to sleep. "What's all that row?" he muttered. "Where am I?" He rubbed his eyes; and then, as the grunting, snorting noise continued, "What does it all mean?" he went on. "Why, I've been asleep, and was dreaming something about old Bobby Hood's pigs at home, grunting. Am I dreaming now? Them ain't pigs. Here, I know--helephants!" He turned his face to the side of the place against which he had been leaning, drew himself up, and applied his eyes to one of the cracks, just as a voice seemed to be calling out in the Malay tongue at three of the great cumbrous-looking beasts which were about a couple of yards away from the building. "Driving of them, and they won't go," thought the watcher; and the speaker, a stunted-looking Malay with a short, iron-spiked implement, somewhat like the iron of a boat-hook, in his hand, came into sight between the huge pachyderms and the door, shouting and growling at his charge as he waved the hook and progged the nearest beast as if trying to drive them away. "What a fool I was not to have learned this precious lingo! They want to come in, and he's telling them to get on. Well, there ain't no room for them here.--Ah, he don't like that!" For the dumpy Malay made use more freely of the goad he carried, and the nearest beast gave vent to an angry half-squeal, half-grunt, as, shrinking from the prod delivered at its flank, it made a rush at two companions, driving its great head first at one and then at the other, and with a good deal of grumbling, squealing, and waving of trunks, they shuffled out of sight. "Why, I must have been asleep," cried Pegg, as he made for another opening where the sun streamed in; "but my head--oh, my head, how it aches! I can't seem to understand what it means. It's all of a--" He turned slowly round, staring vacantly, till his eyes fell upon the basket and jar almost at his feet. "'Nanas--water! Why,"--he turned his eyes in another direction, and then, with a faint cry of dismay, he shuffled across the place, making the dry leaves with which the floor was covered rustle loudly, as he sank upon his knees beside Archie. "I've got it now," he said to himself. "I remember; but my head's as thick as wool. He went to sleep, and I sat down to watch till he woke. Nice watch I've kept! Well, it's a good job those great brutes come along and woke me up. This must have been their old stable, and if I don't look out, one of these times they will be shoving that door down and walking in a-top of us. Poor old chap! He's sound enough now. Mustn't touch him. It would be a pity to wake him. I couldn't have been asleep many minutes." Peter drew away silently and stood for a few moments watching the bright rays of sunshine that streamed in through the side of the building; and unconsciously he raised one hand and made a peculiar motion with it as if he were following the streaks of light from right to left with his index-finger. "Seems rum," he muttered; "but it's my head being so thick, I suppose. Oh, there's that banana I began to eat;" and he stooped down, picked it up from where it lay amongst the leaves, and then dipped the cocoa-nut cup into the water, and took a deep draught of the refreshing beverage. "Ah!" he sighed, as he set down the shell. "Seems to wash the cobwebs out of one's head. Wonder where those helephants were being driven." As he muttered he stepped to the door and applied his eye to _one_ of the cracks through which the sun was streaming, and then drew back, for the glare affected his eye. "Shines hot," he muttered; "and it wasn't coming in like that when I looked through just now, before beginning to eat that banana. Well," he ejaculated, "it's a rum 'un! I've got it now! Why, I must have been asleep hours and hours and hours. It ain't this evening. When I looked it was all turning red because the sun was going down. It's to-morrow morning, and I've been asleep all night. I'm a nice sort of a chap, I am, to go on duty and leave my officer in the lurch like that! Well, he must have been asleep too. There's no gammon about it, for it is to-morrow morning, and he could not have woke up, because I should have heared him; so that's all right. Poor chap! And it must have done him good. But now I can think again, and my head don't ache so much. I feel better, and there's been no old Job Tipsy to drop upon me.--I wish there was, and a lot of our fellows with him," said the poor fellow dismally. He crossed softly to where Archie lay breathing calmly, and then, as if feeling satisfied, he went back to the great earthen jar, refreshed himself with another draught of water, and seated himself by the basket, from which he took one of the bananas and began to eat. "I'm quite peckish," he said to himself, "and, my word, they are good! I don't know how long it is since I felt like this. It must be a good sign. Well, there's plenty of them," he continued, and he took another, and another. "Not half bad," he went on, "as there's no commissariat coffee. Must leave plenty for Mr Archie, though. But 'nanas don't seem the sort of tack for a poor chap with his complaint. Wishing ain't no good, or I'd do it with both hands, and wish old Jollop was here to look at his tongue and to strap up that head of his. It ought to have all the hair cut off, but one can't do that with a blunt knife. Hullo! what's that?" he muttered, after satisfying himself with the fruit from the basket. "I believe it's one of those two-tailed pigs grunting and chuntering." He went to the opening through which he had peered before, and looked out. "Can't see anything," he muttered, "but it sounds like one of them coming back. Yes, I can! It is--just coming through the trees. Why, he's all wet, and dripping with mud and water. That's it. They have been driven down by their keeper to the river. Yes, there must be a river; and I say, lad, there's something to recollect. This 'ere place is somewhere up the river, or down it. Yes, down it, because up the river the water's clear, and down it, it gets muddy. Oh, I don't know. I dare say there's muddy places up the banks. There, stop that chuntering row. Just like a drove of pigs. He's coming back to his stable somewhere. Why, he's coming straight here, just as if he meant to knock the door down and get in. Well, if he did he wouldn't hurt us. He's only a tame one. That little chap made three of them shuffle off. But what a chance to cut if he opens the door! Oh dear!" he added, with a sigh. "Talk about cutting, with the young governor like he is! And even if he could walk, we don't know the way. Wonder where we are. It must be the Rajah's place somewhere right up in the jungle where he keeps his helephants, and that there Frenchman put him up to keeping his hostriches, as he called them, up here too." Peter Pegg's mutterings and musing were brought to a sudden end by the elephant, which seemed to be quite alone, coming close up to the doorway, grunting and chuntering, as the young private called it, just as if the animal were talking to itself, mingling its remarks with a low squeal which might have meant either anger or satisfaction. "I believe," thought Peter, "it's one of them that came to the sham-fight, and I could almost fancy it's the chap I had a ride on. But they are all alike, only one's bigger than another, and t'other's more small. If he had got his toggery on with gold fringes and the big bamboo clothes-basket full of cushions on his back, I should know him directly. But he's what they call disguised in mud.--Here, I say, don't! What you doing on?" It was plain enough, for the great elephant had seized hold of a portion of the woven, basket-like wall, which began to crack and give way as a piece was torn out. "I say, don't--don't be a fool! You'll wake the poor governor," whispered Peter, who began to tremble now with alarm.--"Oh, don't I wish I could remember what the mahout said to him!--Here, I say, don't!--I believe he's gone mad, and if he gets at us--Here, I say, what shall I do?" And he backed away from where the light was beginning to show more brightly through the woven wall, and took up his position as if to protect his wounded officer. "If I had only got my rifle and bayonet, I could keep him off, perhaps, with a good dig. Here, they have left me my knife, though," he said joyously, as he drew it out and opened the blade. The possession of even this contemptible weapon seemed to give the poor fellow some confidence, and he took three or four steps towards the hole the huge beast was making, just as there was torn away another piece of the elastic palm or bamboo of which the wall between the uprights was formed. And then the light opening was suddenly darkened. "Blest if it ain't just like a great horse-leech such as we used to find in the water-crease beds, only about ten million times as big;" and the lad stood helplessly staring as he saw the monster's trunk thrust right in through the wall and beginning to wave up and down and from side to side, wondrously elastic, the nostrils at the end in this semi-darkness looking like a pair of little wet eyes, between which the prehensile part moved up and down like a tiny pug-nose. _Sniff, snuff, snort_, and then a little squeal as, after waving here and there for a few moments, the curious member was stretched out straight in the direction of the lad, emitted a deep, damp sigh, and then began to wave up and down and to and fro again, before curling up, to some extent uncoiling, and shooting out straight and stiff again in the same direction. "Oh Lor'!" groaned Peter, "it's just like one of them there big boa-constructors, and he's coming for me. He means me. There's a sniff! And this knife not a bit of good. If I cut it off it would only make him more wild. Look at it, with its two little eyes seeming to stare at me. Boa-constructor! It's more like an injy-rubber pipe gone mad." There was another faint squeal, and the great trunk slowly changed its position, and stretched itself out in the direction of the bamboo basket. "Here, I say," thought Peter, "does he mean them?" The lad hesitated for a minute or two while the elephant continued its low, almost purring, muttering sound, as the trunk turned once more in his direction, and then became stiffly pointed out again towards the basket, while the wall about the height of the elephant's head gave forth a loud crack. "He's a-leaning ag'in it, and it's coming through!" gasped Peter. "Here, there's nothing for it.--All right, mate; wait a minute: you shall have the whole blessed lot. Murder! Don't!" roared the poor fellow; for as he made a dash to reach the basket, as quick as lightning the trunk was curled round his neck, and held him fast as he dropped upon his knees. "It's all over, Mister Archie, sir," he groaned. "And you lying there asleep and taking not no notice! Wouldn't have catched me 'listing if I'd ha' known it meant coming to this!--Oh, I say, do leave go!" As if his captor thoroughly grasped the meaning of his piteous appeal, the trunk began slowly to loosen its hold; and then, as the poor fellow prepared himself for a dash to get beyond its reach, he found it begin to smooth him over and stroke him gently down from shoulder to arm, playing about as if caressing him, after the fashion in which he had seen the animals treat their mahout when about to be fed. "Oh dear!" groaned Peter; "I thought it was all over with me. Does he mean he wants one of them bananas?" The lad's hand trembled as he reached out, picked up one of the bananas--the largest he could see--and held it in the direction of the end of the trunk. There was a loud sniff; the trunk curled round the fruit, curved under, and was drawn back through the hole. The sun shone brightly in, and Peter felt conscious that the banana was disappearing into the great brute's wet mouth. Then in the most deliberate manner the end of the trunk reappeared, gliding towards him like some serpent. The light was pretty well shut out, and as the wall creaked again, Peter somehow omitted to dash right off as far away as he could go, and found himself picking up another banana, which was deliberately taken, disappeared slowly to make way for the light to pass in, and then the process was repeated once more. "Here, who's afraid?" said the lad, mastering the oppression and panting from which he suffered, as he picked up a fourth banana. "He means friends, and I'm blessed if I don't believe it's the same one as I tackled at the sham-fight, I wish I knew.--Want another, mate?" he continued, as the trunk-end curled towards him again; and as it slowly took the banana from his hand, he passed his fingers beyond the grasped fruit, and gave the quivering member a quick stroke or two. To his surprise, the trunk remained motionless, and a faint snorting sound or grunt came from beyond the wall. "All right. Paid for!" said Peter as he withdrew his hand, and the trunk disappeared. "I do believe it's the same one," repeated the lad, "and I shall be all right as long as these 'ere 'nanas last; but when they are done, suppose he comes through to see why the rations have stopped. Well, I must make them last as long as I can; and he's very cool over it, and not in a hurry. Wonder whether it is that one I knew, and he smelt me and come to see. Yah! Stuff! He smelt the fruit. Oh! here he is again." The next time the trunk reappeared Peter Pegg was ready with one of the oat-cakes broken in half. This was taken just as readily, and was being drawn through the hole when its awkward semicircular shape caused it to be caught against the sides, and it dropped inside instead of disappearing like the fruit. The trunk was withdrawn unsupplied, and Peter was in the act of stooping to pick up the piece of cake, when the light was obscured again, making the lad glance upwards and catch sight of the serpent-like, coiling member descending slowly upon him. "Here, no larks!" cried the lad, dropping upon his knees and preparing to crawl out of reach; but the thought of what he had suffered before unnerved him for the moment, and he could not stir. He uttered a faint cry as he felt the touch of the elastic organ; but it only began to stroke him caressingly, and recovering himself, he drew a deep breath, held out the piece of cake, which was smelt directly, taken, and this time disappeared in safety. It was all done very slowly, and poor Peter thought to himself, "I suppose he's enjoying of it all--but think of me!" He grew more confident, however, and went on and on, presenting the generous supply of bananas till only four were left, and these and the other cake he thrust farther away, and stripping off his flannel jacket, he covered the remainder in the bottom of the basket. This he had just done when the trunk reappeared as usual, and summoning up his courage to meet the disappointment and perhaps anger of his visitor, Peter cried aloud: "There! All over, comrade! No more to-day. Off you go!" Just as if the huge beast understood him from the tone of his voice, it raised its trunk and passed it about his shoulders and breast; and then the poor fellow uttered a faint groan of despair. "What a fool I was!" he thought, for he felt the trunk curl round his neck and tighten gently; and his heart began to fail, when it was uncurled, and stretched out again; the wall overhead creaked loudly, and the end of the trunk was dipped in the big earthen jar. There was a sucking noise, the trunk disappeared slowly, and Peter drew the jar so that it stood just below the opening the elephant had made. As this was done there came the loud squirting sound of the water being sent down the huge beast's throat. Then the trunk descended, to be recharged and disappear again, and Peter, as the trunk was withdrawn, seized the supply-vessel and drew it right away. "Don't believe there's half a pint left," he grumbled. "What about Mister Archie?--There, no more!" he cried aloud, as the trunk was thrust back, passed over his shoulders again, and finally withdrawn, Peter half climbing up to peer through the hole and see his visitor go slowly muttering away. "And him grumbling, too," said the lad--"ungrateful beast! He did give me a fright. But, my eye, what a game! Look at him!" he continued, as the hind-quarters of the monster concealed the rest of its form. "Just like an awful great pair of trousers walking by theirselves!" _ |
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