A royal smuggler

That night the heavy rains commenced, and for three days we were kept within doors, for in those islands it literally “never rains but it pours”—nay, falls in torrents, which deluge the whole land. Neither was this seclusion rendered any the more agreeable, now that, having been assured of our cousin’s safety, our minds were perpetually racked with curiosity as to her whereabouts and Prabu’s reasons for keeping it secret from us.

Thus, when the rains cleared off, and the Chief Mahomed invited us to join him and party in a tiger-hunt, we rejoiced—I, that activity would prevent my mind from preying upon itself—Martin, partly for a similar reason, but chiefly, that he was about joining in a sport of which he had heard so much, but seen nothing. As for Prabu, he, I believe, accepted the invitation out of mere politeness, and, perhaps, policy, hoping thereby to secure the young Mahomed to the interests of the “Dutch-hating party.” But, however that might have been, he must at last have begun to entertain some suspicions as to the Chief’s honesty of purpose; for, upon the morning of the hunt, he sent Martin down to the prahu, with orders to bring back a party of six of the best of the crew, armed with muskets and creeses.

Upon Martin’s arrival with the small force, the Chief, who was standing in the midst of some ten or twelve of his vassals, all armed with creeses and boar-spears, looked very surlily; then, changing his tactics, he affected to praise the appearance of the men and their arms, but mildly suggested to Prabu that, for the sake of himself and crew, it would be as well to send them back to the prahu, as the sight of so many armed men might arouse the jealous fears of the villagers in the mountains. But Prabu, with equal simplicity or cunning, declared that there was no fear of their embroiling themselves with his subjects, for they were mild-tempered men, whom he could hold well in hand, and that, moreover, he had ordered them to accompany the party for his Highness’s amusement and gratification—indeed, to show him what musket-practice would do among the tigers; adding, that, should his Highness approve it, he would, before taking his departure from his territory, present him with a case of arms. At which Mahomed testified so much delight and good humor, not to say apparent manly frankness, that even I began to think that my suspicions were groundless.

Well, all being prepared, we started, Mahomed leading the way into the interior, by following the windings of a small river—swollen, muddy, and rapid from the late heavy rains. Now, during the first five or six hours, Mahomed was both lively and jocose: as, however, time wore on, and we found no tiger’s track, he became moody, and withdrew every now and then to hold a conference with two of his sub-chiefs; and this again arousing my doubts, I whispered to Prabu and my brother.

“Oh, bother with your suspicions and prophecies of evil, you old witch!” replied the latter; “he is only sorry because we have not yet been able to beat up a tiger.”

“Sahib,” replied Prabu, “there is no fear; for if Mahomed were to play us false, he would lose the muskets I have promised. It is as the Sahib Martin says: you will see how his eyes will glisten when we start a tiger.”

After such expressions of confidence, what could I say?—nothing—and so we pursued our search for game for two more hours; but then, as we had reached a small village of bamboo huts, the Chief proposed that we should remain in one of them and refresh ourselves, while two of his attendants went to beat a neighboring jungle.

As we entered this little village, an incident occurred that exhibited to the full the true nature of the Chief. A girl, very pretty for a native, ran across our path, and, stumbling against a tree-stump, fell at his feet. Conceiving this—albeit a pure accident—to be an insult to his dignity, Mahomed caught her up in one of his vise-like fists, and dashed her forward to a considerable distance, where she lay, bruised and bleeding from a wound in the face.

“The cowardly hound!” cried I, in English; and running forward, followed by Martin, we picked her up, staunched the bleeding, and with kind words led her into the nearest hut, where we left her, with a face beaming with gratitude, and exclaiming, “Allah preserve the good sahibs!”

This interference—for so the Chief doubtlessly considered it—between him and one of his slaves, evidently much vexed him; and I could see, from the savage glare of his eyes, that it was with pain he restrained his anger. As soon, however, as we entered one of the huts, the cloud seemed to have passed over; for he began a lively chat as to our hunting prospects, which he continued until interrupted by the coming of the refreshments. At the very sight of these, even, Martin and I forgot his brutality; for our vision was then delighted with stores of the delicious mangosteen, and our sense of smell by the arrival of several small vessels of hot, well-milked coffee. Fortunately for us, the refreshing beverage was not drunk.

But now let me tell you how we were placed in that hut. I was reclining at full length, with my head resting upon a bamboo pillow, against one of the sides; the bamboos of which had shrunk from each other at least an inch, so that, when looking in that direction, I could see all that was doing without. My brother was in a similar position by my side—Prabu about the middle of the hut; and between us three and the door, with his face turned rather toward the exterior, sat the Chief upon a mat. This position he had taken, ostensibly, that he might the better communicate with his people, who, of course, were not permitted to sit in their lord’s presence. With reference to the men, I may add that, while the attendants of Mahomed had seated themselves in a line immediately near the hut, our party from the prahu were placed at a short distance beyond them; but both parties were partaking, or about to partake, of their coffee.

Well, I had been in the position described three or four minutes, awaiting till the coffee had become sufficiently cool to drink, when, as my left hand rested against the bamboo, I felt a tickling sensation. Turning my head, I saw the girl who had been so brutally used by the Chief earnestly gazing upon me. “Sahib,” she whispered in my ear, “not drink coffee; it kill. Young chief bad man.”

The coffee was poisoned, then—there could be no doubt as to her meaning; but how fearful were my sensations! Martin had his cup at his very lips—there was no time for caution. In an instant I had snatched it from his hand, crying, “It is poisoned; we are betrayed!”

The Chief sprang up like a tiger-cat; but Prabu, as if by instinct seeing through the whole conspiracy, dashed his own scalding coffee in Mahomed’s face. Then, with one blow of his creese striking him to the earth, he cried, “Forward, forward, sahibs, to our own men;” and so astonished at this sudden muck were the Chief’s people, that we had passed the cordon and reached our own men, ere one of the former could get to his feet.

“Those who have partaken of the coffee,” cried Prabu, “are poisoned—we are betrayed! Give the rogues a volley!” This order being instantly responded to by a deafening discharge of muskets, he added, “Now, run for your lives. Load as you go, for there are others at hand.”

And away we scampered helter-skelter towards the little river, never stopping until we had placed it between us and our pursuers; for that they would follow we had little doubt.

“By Jingo, old witch!” said Martin, as he stood wiping the perspiration from his forehead; “you are right again, and we have had a narrow escape.”

“Have the men partaken of the coffee?” I asked.

The answer was in the affirmative, and that many of them had been attacked by sickness; but, thanks to the fright and excitement, it had proved innoxious to the system. It had not, in fact, had time to render the circulation torpid, or, indeed, we should all have been lost.

I now told Martin that we were indebted for our lives to the little native girl.

“Heaven bless her, then, for this great return for our small kindness!” he exclaimed. “But, Claud, what cowards are we to leave her among these wretches! Nay, even now it may not be too late. Let us return, run a ‘muck’ among them, and bring her off.”

“Very quixotic and useless, my dear brother; for she is in no danger, as none know who cautioned us, and, doubtless, she will keep her own counsel.”

“The Sahib Martin is possessed to propose such a thing,” said Prabu; “but forward, or by another route, one party may yet cut us off from the prahu.”

So onward we tramped, crossing and recrossing the winding stream, till we had reached within two miles of the late Chief’s town; then we dashed into the jungle, hoping by a short cut to reach the coast, and so perhaps, by keeping near the sea, get sight of the prahu. It was a heavy, toilsome march through mud, slush, and dense jungle; but at length we scented the briny air, at another time disgusting from its impregnation of rotten fish and foul weeds, but now the odor was delicious to our nostrils, for it came from the sea. Then, when, after hewing and cutting, as we dragged our wearied limbs through a prickly jungle of rattans, and obtained sight of the broad expanse of ocean, each man gave one leap—literally, a leap for joy—and fell upon the beach to rest.

“I would give half the fortune left to us by our uncle, Martin, to be once more safe on board the prahu,” said I.

“I wouldn’t, though—we are safe enough; the imps will never find us here,” replied my brother; but even while he was speaking, there arose a loud yelling on the town-side of the jungle, and at once every man was again upon his feet, musket in hand.

“We are lost!” I exclaimed, as the enemy, nearly a hundred in number, came rushing towards us.

“We have one hope,” said Prabu; “they have no fire-arms;” then, quick as thought, he settled upon a plan of defense. “Give them a volley, but let each man take a steady aim,” he cried.

This we did (there were nine of us in all), and with such effect that the Balinese stood as if paralyzed at the sight of their dead and wounded countrymen. Then, when we had reloaded, Prabu told off my brother, myself, and three of the crew, and, pointing to a small, wooded island, about a quarter of a mile out at sea, he bade us swim to it, but at the same time to preserve our arms and ammunition, as best we could, from the water. “Until the sahibs reach the island,” he added, “we will keep the rogues from sending their arrows after them.”

“To save our arms and ammunition,” said Martin, “we must swim with one hand, holding the musket and cartridge-box in the other,” and this we did; for, like the native islanders, we had learned to swim like fish.

Upon reaching the island, we saw that the Balinese, who had by that time recovered their self-possession, were now bearing down upon our comrades. The latter, however, who had formed in line, with their backs turned to the sea, let the enemy approach and discharge a shower of arrows—which, by the way, they received without flinching, or, indeed, harm; then sending a volley, which told as well as the former one, turned and, leaping into the water, made for the island. Now came our turn: the Balinese were about to follow our comrades into the water, but ere a foot had been wetted, Martin and I, by way of protecting the swimmers by a covering fire, sent a couple of leaden messengers in their midst, that made them yell and shout, till the very air seemed filled with their noise. But they were quieted, as far as action against us went, at least for the time.

“They have had enough of it for this day,” said Martin.

“True, sahib,” said Prabu, who, with his men, had just landed; “but at daybreak, the devils will be upon us by hundreds.”

“Then won’t we give them a warm welcome, that’s all,” replied Martin. But he added: “Sufficient for the hour is the evil thereof; so, in the meantime, that we may have strength and pluck enough to meet them, let all of us but one snatch a few hours’ rest.”

“No,” replied Prabu, “that would not be wise—a sandbank must be thrown up for defense; the sahibs, however, may sleep three hours, when we will awaken them to keep watch while we sleep.”

“Very good, so be it,” said Martin. Then, with the aid of two or three of the men, we cut some branches and leaves from a large cocoa-nut tree, and erected a temporary hut; after which, lighting a fire at the opening, as a preventive against the foul vapors of the morass, we loaded our rifles, placed them carefully upon the earth, and, stretching ourselves at full length by their side, fell off to sleep. I must add that, to relieve our heated and sore feet, we threw off boots and socks.

Now, the toil and excitement we had undergone seemed to have a very different effect upon me to what it had upon my brother; for while he slept soundly, I was restless and wakeful—that is, I suppose, I must have had what is called a cat’s sleep. By the way, why a cat’s sleep should be a synonym for wakefulness, I could never understand; for since those days I have had many cats, very fine, sensible cats, too, and by closely watching their habits, have ever found, providing they were properly and carefully brought up—i. e., treated kindly and well-fed—that they sleep quite as soundly, aye, and snore and dream, too, as well as any alderman after a corporation dinner.

But to return to my sleep that night: it must have been very restless, for at a slight rustling noise, I became wide awake, and, gently raising upon my arm, and looking towards my brother, a cold shudder ran through my frame; for, by the light of the fire, I saw a great serpent crawling towards him.

The slightest noise would have caused the reptile to attack him, while it was just possible that, as Martin lay motionless, it might pass over him without injury. “For possibly,” I thought, “it has been aroused from a state of torpor by the heat of the fire, which it is evidently making toward.” Thus, with breathless anxiety, I watched it advance. It crawled across his legs, its head was upon his naked feet—and my heart seemed in my mouth. I felt inclined to snatch up my rifle—but no. Providentially, I had sufficient presence of mind to resist the temptation, and in another instant it had passed out of the opening, and I could have cried for joy. But then it occurred to me that it might attack one of the sleepers without; for some of our men, I knew, must by this time have lain themselves down, for a yellow streak in the horizon told me it could not be far from daybreak.

This was enough. I jumped up, and, taking my rifle, followed the serpent. It was still gliding onwards, but, hearing my footsteps, it erected its crest and turned around. There was now no alternative; in an instant the contents of my rifle were in its head. But, simultaneously, a man sprang upwards, and then fell heavily backwards, as if shot.

“Great Heaven!” I exclaimed, “I have killed a man!”

Not so, however, for again he arose with a cry of “Malik,—they are coming,” doubtlessly believing that the Balinese had landed; and in a minute, Martin, Prabu, and the whole of our party were by my side.

By way of excuse for alarming them, I pointed to the snake, still writhing in the agonies of death.

“But,” exclaimed Prabu, “the sahib is frightened at nothing—he has wasted powder and ball upon a mere worm. Look,” he added, “this is how to kill them,” and he stuck a boar-spear through the head of the still writhing reptile; then, winding the body round the handle, he tossed it to one of the men, telling him to roast it for the morning’s meal. Nevertheless, and notwithstanding Prabu’s contemptuous manner and remark—and which, as he afterwards confessed, he only assumed, to hide his chagrin that the whole party had been alarmed at the mere killing of a snake—the reptile was of a species whose bite is mortal; and that, too, my brother knew full well, for as we kept watch that night, while the rest of the party slept, he said—

“Claud, dear old boy, Prabu’s out of temper—never mind what he says; for to your wise old head, that kept you from alarming the snake, I owe my life.”