A royal smuggler

How shall I describe my feelings when returning consciousness first made me fully aware that some terrible accident had happened! I opened my eyes wide, stretched them wider still, but all around was dark—black. I could see nothing: then a racking pain in the head made me attempt to raise my hand, but my arm was so stiff, it refused its office. I tried the other,—it was worse. Alarmed, I essayed to get upon my feet, and that effort told me I was sore and bruised from head to feet; and then I could realize a notion of the phrase, “being beaten to a jelly,” except that my limbs were stiff instead of elastic. What could it all mean?—a dream, a nightmare surely! But no—the aching head and limbs sufficiently disproved that. At the highest pitch of my voice, I shouted for my brother, but echo alone mocked my call; and then the whole truth flashed across my mind—the going through the passages in the rock. I must have fallen into a chasm, and probably had only been saved from an instantaneous death by the soft guano upon which I was lying. My life saved!—but for what? To die a lingering death by starvation; my only hope being, that Martin might find his way back to Prabu and his men, and bring them to my assistance. Yes—I had another hope: by the touch, the scent, I knew that I was lying upon guano. If so, I reasoned the cave must be one frequented by the swallows. It was therefore probable that some of the gatherers might come there; but remembering that the natives entertained a superstitious horror of that cavern,—for I did not doubt that it was the one for which we had been in search, and from which it had been said that no man had ever been known to return,—I sickened with despair.

For a time I lay pondering upon the possibility of some person or persons coming to my help. But then, I murmured, this is childish, foolish, to await here the coming of others, when I should be endeavoring to help myself; and I made another effort to get up. This time I succeeded. Moreover, I was agreeably surprised to find that, although sore, stiff, and bruised, my limbs were really not so bad as they had felt—that is, I could use them. I endeavored to walk forward, but there was some obstruction. Putting my hand forth, I found that it was nothing more formidable than a great heap of guano, drifted into that form, probably, by the wind during the monsoon. Aye, there was another faint hope: through the opening by which the wind that formed that great heap had got in, I might find my way out, and to discover it became my object; but suddenly, a murmuring sound fell upon my ears—it reverberated through the cavern. I threw myself upon the ground to listen—it was plainer. Oh, joy! it was the sound of human voices, and in my delight I was about to shout to the new-comers. But—well, I know not why—I did not; and fortunate, most fortunate, for me that I refrained. In a few minutes a pale light illumined the other end of the cavern, by which I could see that it was larger—three or four times as large—and more than double the height of any I had seen hitherto. My attention, however, became at once fixed upon the men. There were four in all, each carrying a torch, by the light of which I could see without being seen; and the sight convinced me of the wisdom of my caution in not having made known to them my presence, for they were not of Prabu’s party. Then who could they be? A moment’s thought, and I came to the conclusion that they were nest-robbers, and in all probability villagers, who had been the first to discover this new and evidently rich cavern, and that, too, by some hitherto unknown path in the rocks. Then another gleam of light flashed through my mind. In all probability, it had been these men who had disseminated the absurd report, which had made other and legitimate gatherers—i. e., those authorized by the proprietor—shun it; and thus the Pangeran, who was lord of that district, was being plundered of a wealth, of the very possession of which he was ignorant.

“But,” asks the reader, “what mattered it to thee whether they were smugglers or honest men, since Providence had sent them to thy rescue?” Aye, but it mattered much; for if the former, they would scarcely have hesitated an instant about putting to death one who had discovered their secret, and thus it behooved me to be upon my guard. Literally, liberty and death were equally balanced, and it depended upon my prudence or cunning which should turn the scale. Accordingly, I again lay down behind the guano, to work out in my mind what course to take, or at least to watch my opportunity, and keep my eyes and ears open.

Severely was my patience tested. For seven hours, as well as I could guess the time, three of those fellows continued their labors, each mounted upon his bamboo pole; while the other—who, from the tone in which they addressed him, seemed to be a slave or servant—from time to time, as the occasion required, relighted or renewed their torches. My position, however, was fraught with terrible anxiety. What would be the end of it all? There were men who could save my life if they would, but to whom I dared not make my presence known—men, indeed, who would, in all probability, regard my death as necessary to their own safety. My first hope was, that all four would have ascended the poles, and that then, taking advantage of their employment above, and the darkness beneath, I could creep noiselessly along the soft guano to the aperture by which they had entered; but, alas! as I have told you, one was left below, and he kept flitting to and fro, torch in hand.

Well, at length the three descended, and piled their bags upon a great heap of nests, the result of many previous days’ labor. Now came another fright! They would depart, of course, taking with them the rope or ropes by which they had descended. Alas! I had no hope; for although they would doubtlessly return the next day, and the next, it could not alter my position. I had but a choice of deaths—starvation or assassination. Yes—there was one faint chance left. I might, after they had left, discover a hiding-place in the entrance, in which I could await until they had passed the following day into the cavern and commenced their labors, then reach the top by means of their rope. But again, supposing even that I succeeded in gaining the top, I should have to fight my way past the man who, in all probability, would be on guard at the rope. However, be that as it might, I determined to accept the risk, for it was my only chance of escape. But again was the cup dashed from my lips, for, as the men were about quitting the cave, another entered.

“My masters,” he said, addressing the gatherers, “ye may, on your return homewards, take no sign of your late occupation with you. Such are the orders of the Head-man to his children, for the Pangeran’s captain, Prabu, and his crew are even now nest-gathering in the caves, and he loves not those who encroach upon his master’s rights.”

The gatherers were taken by surprise, and gave vent to their indignation in no measured terms; but most extraordinary to me, at least until I saw his face, was the conduct of the servant. At the very name of Prabu he trembled violently, and, begging that they would leave him what water and rice remained of the store they had brought with them in the morning, said he would stay in the cave, until Prabu and his companions had quitted the village. Who could this man be, that he should so tremble at the very name of Prabu? Who, indeed? However, the gatherers must have known full well his reason for avoiding my captain; for, at once complying with his request, they quitted the cavern, and I very speedily shared their knowledge.

A full hour elapsed after their departure ere I ventured to commence operations—not, indeed, till the slave, having partaken of his rice and water, stretched himself at full length upon the ground, to sleep, as he thought, in perfect security. Then, as his face was turned towards me, and the red glare of a fresh-lighted torch fell upon it, I started with surprise, for I recognized at once the Chinese thief To-ki.

The hunchback—my father’s death—the abduction of Marie—all passed through my mind. My blood boiled indignantly; but thank Heaven, I murmured, a little prudence, and a clue to that mystery will be in my hands. The surprise and anxiety to escape did me good—at least, made me forget my soreness and bruises. When, from his hard breathing, I knew the fellow was asleep, with pistol in hand at half-cock, I stealthily advanced towards one of the bamboo poles, and untying the cord from the lower joint, made a noose at one end; then, creeping towards my friend, and gently lifting his head and neck, I slipped it over his arms, and gave it one quick, violent jerk. The rogue awoke with a scream of fright. He could not, however, see the cause of his little difficulty, for I had thrown him upon his stomach, and was sitting astride his back, twisting the other end of the cord round his legs, as methodically as if I had been packing a box or trunk. During the operation Mr. To-ki struggled, screamed, cried, implored, and appealed to the god Fo, and the spirits of his ancestors, to come to the aid of the unfortunate To-ki, who was suffering at the hands of an evil demon (meaning me); but finding the ill-natured ghosts did not even return him a civil answer, he prayed of my demonship to let him off that time, and he would repent his sins, and for the future forego his evil practices; but getting no reply to this, he then appealed to me as the demon of the cave, and implored me to forgive him for robbing the place, saying in words to the following effect:

“The good demon is great, and will not condescend to punish the smallest of the small—the least of the very little—the insignificant To-ki! No, Mr. Demon, the wretched To-ki is not so bad as he seems. It is true that he is found in thy cave; but he was as the limb to the head, nothing but a poor slave, compelled to do the bidding of his masters.”

The superstitious wretch could not conceive the possibility of his being in the hands of a mortal, and it was as well for my purpose that he could not, for thus I might wring from his fears some information about Marie. Thus, in deep tones, and at the same time placing the cold barrel of the pistol upon his neck, I said:

“To-ki is a very great rogue, who has been guilty of so many crimes that the soles of his feet must no longer be permitted to soil the earth. It is written that he must die.”

Quivering in every nerve, and trembling in every muscle, the coward gave a piteous moan of despair. “Die,” he whined, “among these rats of Javanese, and my bones be placed kingdoms away from the tombs of my ancestors! Alas! To-ki was born a wretch thus to have incurred the anger of the Demon!” Then, as a last appeal, he cried, “Can the miserable To-ki make no atonement for the past, no promises for the future, to induce the merciful demon to prolong his life only till he can carry his body where it may be laid in the tomb of his fathers?”

“So vile hath been thy sins, O To-ki, that the ghosts of thine ancestors—that is, if they are ghosts of good reputation—would kick thy bones out of their tomb as a disgrace! Nay, it is also written that thine own tomb shall never be swept.”

At this nonsense the superstitious fellow groaned in despair, and at length, by way of propitiating my demonship, and so getting me to put a good word or two in for him with the ghosts of his forefathers, he offered to confess his sins. This being exactly what I had been fishing for, I said:

“The wretch To-ki was one of the thieves who robbed the house of Mynheer Ebberfeld!”

“He was! he was—but then, good Mr. Demon, he was the slave of Huc-cuk.”

“For what vile purpose, besides robbery, did Huc-cuk and his companions break into the house?”

“Truly, that must be known, as all things are, to so great and wise a demon.”

That answer was a poser; for it was only reasonable that my demonship should know all things—past, present, and future. Nevertheless, after a moment’s thought, I continued, as I again rubbed the cold iron of the pistol against his neck:

“It is true that all the deeds of the wretched To-ki are known, but he must confess them aloud: so, if he would not have his bones forever rest in this cave, let him speak. For what vile purpose, besides robbery, did Huc-cuk enter the house?”

“To steal away the girl,” he replied.

“Wretch! didst thou have aught to do with the slaying of that poor girl?”

“To-ki has been a rogue,” he replied, “but his hands are not stained with blood. The girl was not slain; she is alive even now.”

What a weight was removed from my heart!

“Then,” I asked, “for what purpose did Huc-cuk take the girl from her home?”

“Alas! good Mr. Demon, thy slave knows only that Huc-cuk carried her to the foot of the Blue Mountains, where he was met by those who employed him, and into whose hands he gave her.”

“Who and what were the names of the men who received the girl from Huc-cuk?”

“Alas! of that also is the miserable and insignificant To-ki ignorant, but, like him, they were slaves and tools in the hands of a master.”

This answer was vexatious, and again I plied him with questions, but nothing more could I elicit. I did, however, find out that some time before he had fled from the hunchback, and had taken service with one of his countrymen, a merchant engaged chiefly in the bird’s-nest trade, and that the latter—as big a rogue as himself—had sent him, as one of the crew of a junk which was then at anchor off the coast, to receive the nests gathered by the cave-robbing natives with whom he was in league.

Finding I could obtain no further information, I got off his back; and although I knew that he could scarcely move, I threatened him with speedy death and the vengeance of the whole community of demons, in which he believed, if he dared to turn his face upwards until he had my permission.

Passing through the opening, I found myself standing upon a narrow ledge of rock, with a rolling sea at a great distance beneath, but not more than a hundred feet from the summit. As I had anticipated, the gatherers had left their rope, by means of which, and at the cost of much pain, I ascended.

The coast was clear—not a living soul to be seen. So far, so good. But where was I? Well, to ascertain, I clambered up the highest peak to survey the surrounding country, in the hope of discovering the whereabouts of the village; but no sign of human habitation met my eyes. No—naught but hill, dale, and thick jungle. The shades of night could not, I knew, be far off, but which way to turn puzzled me. I dared not remain—I feared to advance. Upon chance alone must I depend for assistance, and thus I invoked its good offices. Having a dollar in my pocket, I threw it into the air, resolving that head or tail should decide. If the former, I would proceed straight ahead; if the latter, I would take a direction totally the reverse. Straight ahead it was, and straight ahead down the hill I went, till I entered a wood: many of the trees were groaning beneath the weight of delicious fruits, upon which, I need scarcely say, I banqueted ravenously. A walk of about an hour brought me to a limpid stream: here I refreshed my inner man with copious draughts taken upon all-fours, and my outer by a luxurious bath; and now, if I had had no fear of such denizens of the woods and jungles as tigers and snakes, I felt strong enough to walk the night through; but even as it was, the remembrance that I still possessed a pistol and two or three charges gave me courage. So away I marched, endeavoring, by whistling a tune, to delude myself into a belief that I feared nought that could happen.

In a few minutes, however, my courage was put to the test. There was a rush in the surrounding jungle—a tiger, probably—at least, so I feared (for then I had never seen one of the brutes), and at once I began to scramble up the trunk of a large durian-tree near at hand; but there was as much danger from above as from below, for I had disturbed a school or family of monkeys, who, chattering and screaming, hurled the fruit at me. Luckily, the animals were not skilled in taking aim, for a blow from one of them from any height must have stunned me; and so I safely fixed myself astride a large branch some twenty feet from the ground, in a position in which I could see without being seen; and the next instant a noble buck bounded forth and fell dead at the foot. It had a spike—the spike of a nest-gatherer—in its side, the owner of which, almost simultaneously, knelt by the body of the slain animal. The sight of a man made my heart rejoice; but when in the hunter I recognized Prabu, my joy knew no bounds. Sliding down the trunk, I was the next instant in his arms—yes, literally in his arms, and being hugged, too, with hearty goodwill.

“God is great! But did my young master drop out of the moon?” he exclaimed.

“No, only out of a durian-tree,” said I. But then Prabu’s men and my brother came running through the opening made by the deer and its slayer. The former, at first believing they saw a ghost, stopped short, as if contemplating a quick retreat; but Martin ran forward, and, embracing me, gave way to the most extravagant joy—hurrahing, dancing, and capering about. Then suddenly, with his eyes filled with tears, he said:

“Claud, Claud, old fellow, I never thought to see you again alive. Oh! how terrible have been the hours since we parted! You must have had a squeak for it. But,” he added, “in the name of all that’s gracious, what lucky chance has brought you to this spot, and at the very nick of time, too?”

“A dollar,” I replied, for my mind was just then dwelling gratefully upon that coin.

“A dollar!” he repeated, with a look that betokened some notion that my adventure might have affected my reason.

“Aye, a dollar!—or more correctly, perhaps, your ‘fool’s providence,’—chance.” And I related how it had come to pass that I had chosen that direction.

By this time the natives, who had become convinced that I was in reality something more substantial than a ghost, with Kati at their head, flocked about to exhibit their joy at my escape; and, after their national custom, began to walk around and smell me, as is the wont of cats at the sudden appearance of anything strange in the household in which they are domesticated.

“If these fellows possessed tails,” said Martin, laughing, “like cats, they would put them up at any strange animal coming among them. But now, old fellow, let us make for the village, or night will overtake us, and on the way tell us the story of your escape.” But just then Kati declared it to be his opinion that I could not walk, and bent his body forward.

“Another pussy movement,” cried Martin; “Kati is really putting his back up at you;” but without replying to this, I mounted pickback, and then, as Prabu and my brother walked, one on either side, I related to them my adventures, keeping for a more fitting opportunity the name of To-ki, and all that had reference to Marie’s abduction.

“By Jingo!” cried Martin, when I had concluded, “you have had a narrow escape. But let us thank God for His intervention—He alone has preserved you.”

To which my heart echoed, Amen; for deeply I felt that the power alone of the Most High could have brought me through that great peril. Then Martin told me of the horror that had taken possession of him when I had fallen into that chasm, and how that, lighting the torch, he had endeavored to peer through the darkness; that he had shouted down to me, hoping, by an answer, to get proof that I had not been killed, but hearing nothing but the echo of his own voice, he endeavored to get back to Prabu as speedily as possible; but, in consequence of losing his way, he did not reach him till night, when, the torches having been all used, they could not search for me. Then, at daybreak that morning, my brother and his companions had made every effort to discover the chasm down which I had fallen, but they did not succeed even in finding the passage to it. Many others had they explored, but not that one; and at the time I had so fortunately encountered them, worn out with fatigue and dispirited, they were returning to the village, to organize another searching party among those of the natives most experienced in the intricacies of the caves.

“Terrible indeed must have been your feelings, dear Martin!” said I, at the conclusion of his recital. “But, surely, you must have given me up for lost; you never expected to see me again!”

“Well, Claud;” but half choking with emotion—with horror at the might have been, he brushed away the tears from his eyes, exclaiming, “Hang it, old fellow, it is all right now; we have you among us again, so let us be jolly. But I say, Prabu,” he added, “what think you of these nest-robbers? Can you make any guess who and what they are?”

“Darkness is never long lasting, my young master. What is written is written: the light is coming, and the rogues will be known,” was the reply; and more than that on the subject could not be got from him—at least at that time.