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Trapped by Malays: A Tale of Bayonet and Kris, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 31. An Awakening |
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_ CHAPTER THIRTY ONE. AN AWAKENING "You can't be sure, Pete. These elephant-paths through the jungle are all alike. There's the same half-dark, dense heat, the tangled walls on either side, the overhanging trees and loops of prickly rotan suspended overhead ready to catch you. How can you be sure that this is one that you have been along before?" "I d'know, sir. What you say is very right, but I seem to feel that I've been along here before, and old Rajah must have been, or he wouldn't go swinging along as if he felt that he'd got nearly to the end of his journey. Shall I try and ask Mr Bantam there?" "Oh no," said Archie wearily. "It's so hard trying to make him understand, and I always feel in doubt when you have tried." "Well, sir, we shall soon know whether it is, for I don't believe we are more than two or three miles from headquarters." "I'd give anything for you to be right, Pete, for I am nearly done up." "I know you are, sir, and I might say, so am I; for long enough it has seemed as if the hinge of my back was giving way, and when the helephant gives one of his worst rolls it just seems as if he'd jerk my head off. But cheer up, sir! I think it's all right, and we have done splendidly. We might have had to pull up and fight all the Malay chaps from up there by the Rajah's hunting-box. Of course we should have made a good stand of it, but how are you going to dodge spears in a narrow place like this? There, cheer up, sir! When you look happy over it I feel as if I am ready for anything; but when you go down in the dumps I haven't a bit of pluck left in me." "It will be dark soon, Pete. If we have to spend another night out in the jungle I must lie down under some tree." "Mustn't sir. Cold, rheumatiz', and fever. You will have to stick to your warm bed up here. But talk about a warm bed--you should have tried sitting like a mahout." "It will be dark in an hour, Pete," said Archie, who seemed to pay no heed to his companion's brisk chatter. "Not it, sir. Two hours--full, though I ain't got no watch. Not as that much matters. Old Tipsy has got a big, old silver one, but he says you never can depend upon it in this damp place. We have got plenty of time to get there yet, and see how old Rajah is swinging along! I am sure he knows his way." "Don't--don't--pray don't keep chattering so! It makes me feel worse than ever." "You think so, sir," said Peter stubbornly, "but it don't; it rouses you up, sir, even if it only makes you turn waxy and pitch into me." "Yes, yes, I know, Pete. It's because I'm so ill. It's like having a touch of fever again. Then you must think what a beast and a brute I am to you--a regular burden. I could feel it in my heart to slip down under the first big tree and go to sleep, even if I were not to wake again." "Hah!" said Pete dryly. "That sounds bad, if it was real, sir; but it's only what you fancy. How's your head now?" "That old pain seems back again worse than ever." "Wish we'd stopped an hour ago when we crossed back over the river again, and had 'nother good drink. That must have been about one o'clock, I should say. I don't know, though--I've about lost count. Ain't it rum, sir, how rivers wind about, and how the elephants' paths go straight across them?" Archie looked at him piteously; his eyes seemed to say, "Pray, pray don't keep talking!" The look silenced his companion, and for half-an-hour at least not a word was spoken. _Plosh, plosh, suck, suck_ of the elephants' feet went on in the same monotonous way. A gleam of sunshine now and then lightened the gloom of the tunnel-like path, but besides the dreary sound the silence was awful. By this time Archie seemed to be quite exhausted, and as Pete passed an arm round him and lowered him back on to the pad before slipping a hand into his waistband to ensure his not slipping off, the poor fellow's eyes were half-closed, while those of his companion were fixed with the lids wide apart, and with a fierce, staring look gazed forward over the mahout's head in the wild hope of seeing something that he could recognise, something that would prove that they really were on the path that led to headquarters. "I'm about beat out," said poor Peter to himself. "A chap wants to be made of iron to keep this up much longer, and I ain't iron, only flesh and blood and bones, and them not best quality--upper crust. Oh! if I could only--" He stopped short with his lips apart, face down, and one ear turned in the direction in which the mahout was staring. "Oh!" he panted once again, "is it, or am I getting delirious? Ah! there it goes again--or am I wrong? What's a bugle going for at this time in the afternoon? I'm a-dreaming of it. No, I ain't! Hooray!-- Look up, Mister Archie, sir! It's all right. Cheer up, sir!" "What! What! Who spoke?" said the exhausted lad, making an effort, catching at Peter, and dragging himself up and sitting clinging tightly to his companion's arm. "Close in, sir. We shall be at the campong in five minutes, and in less than another on the parade-ground. Hooroar, sir! There's no place like home, even if it's out in a savage jungle.--Here, what are you panting at, sir, like that? Don't do it! You ain't been running." "You're saying this to keep me up, Peter." "I ain't, sir; I ain't. Look! Look! You can see for yourself now. There, them's the big trees where all the helephants sheltered at the review, and--brave old Rajah! He's making for it straight. There's a peep of the river too, and you can see the hut above the landing-place where I kept guard that night and listened to the crocs. Now then, what do you say to that? Am I right?" Archie made no reply that was audible, but his lips parted as he muttered two words in fervent thanks; and the next minute Rajah had increased the rate at which he made his strides upon hard ground, and the open space before them was becoming dotted with moving men in their familiar white jackets, in consequence of an order that had been passed after a glass had been directed at the advancing elephant; while, as the great beast, as if quite accustomed to the place, strode in beneath the sheltering trees and stopped short, to stand with slowly swinging head on the very spot where Peter had first made his acquaintance, a burst of cheers rang out from officers and comrades, who came up at the double to welcome back those who had been given up for lost. One of the first to reach the elephant's side was the Doctor. "Archie, my lad!" he cried. "Minnie! My poor girl! Speak, lad-- speak!" Archie's lips parted, and his old look of despair deepened as he tried to answer; but no word passed his parched lips, cracking now with fever and exhaustion. He only looked wildly in the Doctor's imploring eyes and shook his head. The Doctor uttered a groan, and then, as the elephant knelt in response to the mahout's order, the Doctor's despair died away to make room for duty. "Now, my lads," he cried, "half-a-dozen of you help them down and carry them carefully into hospital.--Cheer up, boys! I'll soon put you right.--Ah, Sir Charles! You here? I can't go.--Hold up, man!--Go up to my place and speak to my wife. But after this--be a man, sir!-- there's hope for us still." _ |
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