Home > Authors Index > George Manville Fenn > Trapped by Malays: A Tale of Bayonet and Kris > This page
Trapped by Malays: A Tale of Bayonet and Kris, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
||
Chapter 19. Prisoners |
||
< Previous |
Table of content |
Next > |
________________________________________________
_ CHAPTER NINETEEN. PRISONERS "There's a pretty go!" he cried, as he lifted the now light basket and put it down again, and peered once more into the earthen jar. "Suppose they meant the rations and water to last for two or three days! There was a good supply, and that great beast has wolfed and drunk all. Well, it has made him friends, anyhow. He will be coming again. Yes; but who wants a friend like that to keep coming again?" The lad glanced in the direction of his fellow-prisoner, to find that he was still sleeping; and his next proceeding was to go gingerly about, disturbing the dry leaves as little as possible, and making a more thorough examination of the place. "Must have been a helephant stable once upon a time," he concluded at last, "for here's the great post that one of the big pigs was chained to by the leg so that he could not get at the walls. Walls! They are nothing better than so many fences. Talk about shutting up a helephant! Why, I could pull them down myself if I wanted to get away--leastways I could climb up the side and make a hole through the roof. Can't call one's self a prisoner. Yes, I can, because I am regularly chained by the leg; for who's going to leave his comrade? Poor old chap!" At that moment there was a deep sigh, followed by a loud rustling amongst the leaves, as Archie made an effort to change his position, slightly raising his head, but letting it fall back with a low groan, while the young private stepped softly to his side, knelt down, and bent over him. "Hurt you much, Mister Archie, sir?" the lad whispered quietly, and one hand played over the injured head, hesitated, and was then withdrawn. "Hurt you, Mister Archie, sir?" he said again, a little louder, for there was only a weary sigh. "Wish he'd speak," said the lad to himself, "for he ought to have something, if it's only a drop more water. What a fool I was to let that great indiarubber thing suck it all up! Why, I couldn't even use some of it now to bathe his poor head." The poor fellow seemed to Pegg to be sleeping as heavily as ever, and after he had looked at him carefully for a few minutes, there was a deep, buzzing hum as of some insect, and a great fly flashed across the golden rays which streamed in through the thatch, and hovered around for a few moments as if about to settle upon the sleeping lad's head. "Would you?" ejaculated Peter Pegg, striking out so fiercely and exactly that he struck the insect with a sharp pat and drove it against the woven wall, with which it was heard to come in contact, to fall directly, buzzing and rustling among the dried leaves. "That's settled you," said Peter. "I know your little game--lay eggs and make a poor fellow's wound go bad. Not this time!" "Cowards!" came excitedly from Archie, and he once more tried to raise his head, but only for it to sink back wearily. "Burning--always burning! Oh, how hot--how hot!" "Like some water, Mister Archie, sir?" "Water! Who said water?" "Me, sir. There is a little. Let me give you a taste." There was no reply, so Peter quickly tilled the cocoa-nut shell, bore it to his companion's side, and knelt down. "Now then, sir, you let me hyste you up a little. Don't you try--I can do it, and hold the nut to your lips. You will have nothing to do but drink." At the first touch Archie started violently. "Who's that?" he cried. "Only me, sir. Steady, or you will upset the whole blessed apple-cart, and make yourself wet." "Only me--only me," said Archie, and directly after the poor fellow sank back again with a weary sigh. "Look at that, now!" said Peter. "Oh! his head must be awfully bad inside as well as out. Why, if he isn't asleep again!" It was growing dusk, when, feeling faint, hot, and exhausted, Peter Pegg stood over the basket, looked into it longingly, and then glanced at his wounded companion. "He's sure not to want anything to eat," he said to himself. "A drop of water's about all he will touch when he comes to; and it's lucky I held that cocoa-nut shell tight, or it would all have gone." He turned to the jar, into which he had poured back the contents of the nearly full shell. "Oh dear! To think I let that great, gorging fire-hose of a hanimal suck up nearly all that beautiful water, when this place has been like an oven and made me as thirsty as if I had been living on commissariat bacon. Can't help it. He's sure to want a drink when he wakes up. I must leave that." As he spoke he turned the jar sideways, and the ruddy light which filtered in through the cracks showed him the cool, clear fluid in the dark bottom of the vessel. He dipped in the shell, and found he could fill it easily. "More than I thought," he said joyfully. "Why, I might have half-a-shellful, and then there would be quite a shell and a half left for the young governor. Can't help it; I must," he cried impatiently. "My throat's as dry as a sawpit." Dipping the shell as he still held the jar sideways he brought it up again more than half-full. "Too much," he said softly. "Fair-play's a jewel;" and carefully and slowly he let a portion of the precious water trickle back into the bottom of the jar. "That's about half," he said, with a judicial look. "Now then, sip it, mate, and make it go as far as you can." Raising the cup to his lips, he slowly imbibed the tepid liquid till the very last drop had been drained out of the shell. Then replacing it where it had been before, he uttered a deep sigh. "I never used to think water was so beautiful," he said softly. "I forget what them people asked for when they had three wishes, but I know what I should wish for now. It would be for that there jar brim-full of cold water, and me to have a throat as long as a boa-constructor, so that I could feel it all go gently down." His eyes fell upon the basket again, and the slight draught of water having turned his faintness into a strong desire for food, he could hardly restrain himself from taking one of the remaining bananas. In fact, after resisting the temptation for some minutes, he darted his hand down, caught up one of the soft, gold-tinted fruits, raised it towards his mouth, and dashed it down again. "Hanged if I do!" he cried angrily; and thrusting his hands deep into his pockets, he had another look at Archie, and then raised himself up so as to peer through the opening the elephant had made, and try to get some better idea of his position. "Trees, trees, trees," he said; "trees everywhere; but there's a path off to the left, and one goes off to the right, and there's another goes straight away. Let's see: off to the right must be down to the river, because that's where the helephants went; and those other paths must go to where somebody lives; but there's no sign of a house--nothing but trees. Not a sound! Oh, what a lonely place it is! And here's all the long, dark night coming. The sun's going down fast. I sha'n't sleep a wink to-night after snoozing as I did. And here I'm going to lie thinking about that upset with poor Mister Archie's boat, and--yes, I shall be thinking more about what's become of Miss Minnie. Here, I say, what a row there's going to be when the Major and Sir Charles know of it all! And me shut up here instead of being with the lads when the governor lets them slip at these Malay jockeys, for I am a bigger fool than I thought for if one of these Rajahs isn't at the bottom of this job. I don't know but what it might be that there smooth young 'un who dosses hisself up to look like an English gent. If it ain't him, it's that queer-eyed, big, fat fellow; only I suppose it can't be him, because old Tipsy Job says he's friends. How comes it, then," he continued, speaking with energy, "that the Frenchman has had to do with our being prisoners? Here, I can't think. It's making my head ache and things get mixed again. What's that?" he half-whispered excitedly. "It's somebody coming;" and pressing his face closer to the opening, he strained his eyes round so as to gaze to the left, and then dropped lightly down before throwing himself upon the dried palm-leaves close to where Archie lay, and listening to the coming steps. "That chap can speak English 'most as well as I can," he thought to himself, "and I am going to ask him plump and plain what's become of Miss Minnie." A gruff voice uttered what was evidently a command to halt, the wooden bars were lowered and the door thrown open to admit the deep sunset glow, and the stern-looking Malay with his following marched in, their steps rustling amidst the leaves that covered the floor; and the leader bent down curiously over Archie, scowling at him fiercely, before turning his lurid eyes searchingly upon the young private, who now lay back with his lids half-lowered, apparently gazing down into his chest. The Malay rose again, then turned and gave an order to his followers, two of whom stepped outside, one of them first standing up the spear he carried in the dark corner behind the door, while their chief growled out something as he pointed at the freshly torn opening in the side. One of the men grunted--it sounded like a grunt to Peter Pegg--and raising his spear, he passed it through the opening, rattled it to and fro, and then stepped outside to pick up two or three torn-out pieces of palm-fibre, brought them in, showed them to his chief, and uttered a half-laugh. Just then the two men who had passed outside returned, one bearing a fresh jar brim-full of water, the other a basket of fruit and another of the big, roughly made cakes, which were set down. Then the leader stepped forward, stooped down suddenly over Pegg, his right hand resting upon the fold of the sarong which covered the hilt of his kris, and with his left thumb he roughly raised the young private's eyelids one after the other. Peter Pegg did not so much as wince. "Let him think I'm asleep if he likes--an ugly Eastern beast!" The Malay turned now to Archie to look fixedly at the poor fellow's head, before touching the injured scalp with one brown finger, with the effect of eliciting a deep-drawn sigh of pain. Then the man rose, and apparently satisfied with the helplessness of the prisoners, he uttered a low, abrupt order, and his little train shouldered their spears and marched out, one of them carrying the empty basket, his companion shouldering the heavy earthen jar. Peter Pegg lay back motionless, to listen to the barring of the door, half-wondering the while at the great change that the closing door made upon the interior: one moment the last rays of the setting sun were flooding the great stable with a deep, blood-red glow; the next the place seemed by comparison quite dark. The lad listened till the last retiring steps had died away, and then he sat up suddenly, with the recollection of a little knife and fork given to him years before by his grandmother, and chuckling softly to himself, he half-whispered: "A present for a good boy!--Of course," he said, after a pause to make sure that no one was going to return; "I am not going to bounce, but I was a very good boy for not pitching into that 'nana. Oh my! Ain't it splendid!" he continued, turning over on hands and knees and scrambling like a quadruped to where the jar and basket had been placed. "There's going to be such a supper! But don't I wish I was going to have company! Oh, you beauty!" he cried hoarsely, as he hugged the great jar to his chest, bent down till he could press his lips to the thick edge, and then tilting it slightly, drank and drank and drank. At last he lowered the jar till it stood firmly in its place, raised himself upon his knees, and uttered a long, deep sigh. "Oh, ain't it splendid!" he said. "They have got water here! Talk about a horse drinking--well, I suppose any one would say I drank like a hass or a pig. No, I didn't, because I've only been drinking the helephant's share if he comes again--not yours, Mister Archie. I do wish you were awake.--Here, I say, let's have some of that bread," he said, half-aloud now; and breaking the cake in four, he placed himself in a comfortable position and took a bite. "That ain't quite comfortable, though," he muttered, and raking a lot of the leaves into the corner of the place, he seated himself so that he could rest his back in the angle. "Not quite right," he muttered. "These 'ere big feathers have got a lot of quill in them. Let's have some more." He stretched out his left hand in the darkness to draw an armful more of the dried palm-leaves beneath him, when his hand came in contact with something which rasped against the matted wall and fell heavily in the direction of where his fellow-prisoner lay. "What's that?" said the lad sharply, as, sweeping his hand round over the leaves, his fingers closed almost spasmodically upon what felt like a bamboo cane. The next moment Pete was upon his feet, staring in the direction of the dimly seen door. "My!" he whispered hoarsely; and using the cane like a walking-stick, he stepped on tiptoe right to the door, and then whispered softly beneath his breath: "Hi! Hi! Hi! I say, old 'un, you've forgot your spear.--Think of that, now," he continued, half-aloud. "Why, of course; he stood it up there before he went out to fetch that precious jar. Forgot it! I say--talk about discipline in the Rajah's army, and a chap forgetting his piece! Fancy old Tipsy, and it was me and my rifle! Plenty of water, plenty of bread and fruit, and a present of one of them spears, as will be handier than a fixed bay'net. Why isn't Mister Archie awake to enjoy all this? Now then, if that chap will only come to-morrow night, and forget another of these sharp-pointed toothpicks for Mister Archie, I shall be very much obliged. But here am I playing the fool like this, and at any moment he may be coming back to fetch this one away. Well, if he expects he's going to get it, poor chap, I'm sorry for him;" and obeying his first impulse, he carried the keen-pointed weapon across the floor, lowered the head, and felt gently to find where it was bare; and the next moment his lingers were playing about over what was evidently a short piece of bamboo of about the same circumference as the shaft, and which fitted tightly over the keen blade like a sheath. Then going down upon one knee, he thrust the spear carefully in beneath the bed of leaves at the foot of the wall, behind where Archie lay. Not satisfied at once, he withdrew and thrust in the weapon again, feeling if it was well covered; and then going to the far end, and scraping up and bringing a double armful of the dried leaves, he carefully covered his treasure more deeply. "Ah!" he ejaculated, panting a little with his exertion, "I don't think it's likely.--What say, sir?" he added, addressing an imaginary Malay fighting-man. "Have I seen your spear? No, sir. Haven't set eyes upon it, honour bright.--'Always tell the truth, Pete,' granny used to say. Well, ain't that the truth? Why, I don't believe a cat could have seen it; and if I hadn't knocked it down I shouldn't have known it was there. Now, between ourselves, I do think I deserve something to eat after that," muttered the poor fellow. "Here, where did I put that there piece of cake? It must be lost amongst those leaves. Dropped it when I was feeling for the spear. What! plenty more in the basket? No, I won't. Wilful waste makes woeful want. Why, here it is in my trousers pocket all the time! So, now then, let's have another try; and I will treat myself to a banana afterwards. No, I won't; I'll have two." And hurrying to the basket, he helped himself to the fruit, and then made himself comfortable in the corner where he had knocked over the spear, and began to eat with a splendid appetite. "Oh, don't I wish you was here to help me, Mister Archie, sir!" he said, half-aloud and rather piteously. "Poor, dear chap! I'd feed you if I dared wake you up; but I'm sure it's right to let you sleep. But won't you be glad when you know about that spear? If we could only get another, and a couple of them krises, we should be regular set up if it come to a scrimmage, as it shall, as sure as my name's Peter. We are going to escape--somehow; and if anybody stops us it's a fight. We sha'n't be able to throw the spears like these Malay beggars do, but me and Mister Archie can do bay'net practice with them in a way that will open some of their eyes. Oh, how good!" half-whispered the lad, as he finished his frugal supper of bread and banana. "Don't it seem to put life in a fellow! Now, what am I going to do? Sit and think of how to escape? No hurry, lad. I want Mister Archie's orders, and I'll do the work. Seems to me that the first thing will be for me to get out of here somehow in the dark to go and reconnoitre, and then steal--no, it's capture, being enemies--another spear and two krises. How? Knock down an enemy somewhere and take what he's got. I'm game. And then--" That was as far as Peter Pegg got, for he could not partake of so hearty a meal, after refreshing himself in a way that thoroughly quenched his thirst, without obeying Nature afterwards; and this he did, lying prone, fully stretched out, and not in the painful, cramping position of the previous night. _ |