The doctor took note of this, and he and the lads finding good opportunities, brought down several large water-fowl, which were plucked by the men not rowing for the evening meal, it having been decided that while on the trip up the river two good meals would be sufficient for each day.

Twice over Phra's sharp eyes detected large serpents in the overhanging boughs, their presence being doubtless explicable by the numbers of monkeys travelling to and fro along the edges of the jungle where it was cut by the river.

On the second occasion the doctor's gun was raised for a shot, but a sign from the old hunter stopped him.

"What is it?" he said, for Sree was pointing forward.

"Elephants, Sahib," whispered the man; and then bidding the men to row gently, so as not to make a sound, the boat glided on towards what in the distance looked like the blunt end of the river, so completely did it seem cut off by the sudden way in which it doubled back upon itself, growing wider and shallower at the same time, while from some peculiarity of soil the trees had retired farther from the bank, leaving quite a wide, park-like stretch, through which the stream meandered.

But the party in the boat had no eyes for the scenery; their attention was taken up fully, as they turned the bend of the river, by the sight of some ten or a dozen elephants of all sizes indulging in a bath in the now shallow water, wading, wallowing, or squirting it over their backs.

It was evidently such a sanctuary that the great animals felt no fear of being disturbed, and the boat and its occupants remained unnoticed, Sree having signed to the men to run it close in under the shore on the right. Here, through the doubling back of the river, they were not above a couple of hundred yards across the intervening jungle from where they had come up and the old hunter had first heard the noise made by the herd.

They sat for some time watching the actions of the strange, unwieldy-looking creatures, and would have been content to remain longer had not the largest of the animals, after syringeing himself to his heart's content, trumpeted loudly and begun to wade out of the river, taking a course which, if continued, would have brought him to the shore close to the boat.

Wild elephants can be very dangerous if roused; but here there was nothing to fear, for the men could with a few strokes have put the boat into deep water where an elephant was not likely to follow; so in obedience to Mr. Kenyon's order, the rowers rested on their oars and the elephant came on, nearer and nearer, his great head nodding and bowing from side to side, and his eyes fixed upon the surface, till suddenly taking the scent of the travellers, borne by the light air, he stopped short, caught sight of them as he raised his head, and stood as if turned to stone, staring at them for some seconds, before uttering a strange cry of alarm and dashing back, with ears flapping and extended trunk, towards his companions.

The first cry of alarm was sufficient, every elephant churning up the water in the endeavour to be first on the farther shore.

The party watched till the last beast had disappeared, the first making straight for the jungle and plunging right in through a hole it made apparently in the great wall of greenery, the others following in single line after it, and, according to custom using its footprints, till the biggest, who appeared to be as massive as old Sul, passed through, and the elastic stems and vines seemed to spring back in their places.

"Why, Phra," said Harry, "I did not know that we had wild elephants so near. Did you know, Sree?"

"Yes, Sahib; I have seen that herd many times, and could lead the King's elephant-catchers to their hiding-place if they were wanted; but they have not been wanted yet."

"It is a curious country," said Mr. Kenyon; "we seem to know nothing of it a few miles from any of the rivers."

The open part they were in looked so bright and attractive that, regardless of the near neighbourhood of the elephants, it was decided merely to go to the upper end of the shallows where the jungle closed in again, and where a sufficiently umbrageous tree could be found projecting over the river to add to their shelter, and then camp for the night.

Here a fire was once more lit, and while the preparations for the evening meal went on, the doctor and the two boys took their guns for a stroll back along the open stretch of grass they had passed.

"Don't be long," said Mr. Kenyon.

"Which means, don't go too far," replied the doctor. "We shall not. It is only to stretch our legs a bit, for the boat is rather cramping."

The intention was good and wise, but the object intended soon proved to be almost an impossibility. The stretch of open land between the river and the jungle looked at a distance much like a fair meadow, and it struck Harry from that point of view.

"Just the place for our cricket," he said to Phra, as, shouldering their guns, they stepped off after the doctor.

"Mind how you come," said the latter, who was brought to a standstill. "The water has been all over here, and the place is full of cracks and holes. Try back a little your way."

"Looks quite right here, sir," cried Harry. "It's as solid as—Oh—Hi!
Phra, catch hold of my gun."

The boy laid his own piece down, caught at the barrel of Harry's, and pulling hard, his companion, who had sunk up to his knees and was steadily going lower, was able to struggle back.

"Oh, here's a mess!" he panted, stamping to get rid of the mud.

"You didn't choose the right direction, Hal," said the doctor, laughing.

"No, sir," said Harry meekly. "Will you go first?"

"Yes, I think I can do better than that, my lad. Let's strike right across here towards where the elephants went out of sight. The ground must be firmer there."

The boys prepared to follow, as the doctor led off; but Harry directed a malicious glance at his companion, which seemed to say plainly, "Look out, and see if he doesn't go in."

But Harry felt disappointed and ill-used, as well as wet and muddy about the legs, for the doctor strode off steadily for about twenty yards, the boys following over perfectly firm ground.

"You should pick your way in a place like this, my lads. It only needs—"

Care, the doctor was about to say, but he did not; for all at once, to Harry's intense delight, his leader uttered a sharp ejaculation, and, throwing himself flat on the ground, began to roll over and over, with his gun held upright against his breast, till he was close to the boys' feet, where he sat up, drew the stout hunting-knife he wore at his breast, and began to scrape the mud off one leg.

"Was it soft there, sir?" said Harry, with mock seriousness.

"Soft!" cried the doctor. "Oh, you're laughing at me, eh? Well, I'm fair game, I must own. Here, step back! quick! both of you. We're sinking."

It was quite true, for there was a bubbling, hissing, and gurgling sound arising from among the grassy growth, and the black water began to ooze up among the stems, so that as the boys ran back it splashed up, and the doctor followed, none too soon.

"Why, the whole place is a marsh," he said, looking back as soon as the ground felt more solid. "It is just as if the water of the river spread right up to the jungle and this part had become covered with weeds and plants till they were matted together and looked like a meadow."

"But," cried Harry, "I want to know how the elephants managed."

"There must be a sort of causeway of firm ground somewhere out in the middle there," replied the doctor. "I daresay we should find it so if we went back with the boat to where the great creatures came out of the water."

"And we couldn't have the boat now, I suppose," said Harry, glancing in the direction of camp.

"No, but it does not matter. We should only find a muddy, elephant path, full of holes."

"Sorry I was so stupid, doctor," said Harry.

The doctor turned to him sharply and nodded.

"Yes, you have me on the hip there, Hal. Take it as a warning to yourself not to be in too great a hurry to condemn other people."

Phra smiled.

"What are we going to do?" he said. "It's too soon to go back."

"Well, we can't walk on this floating green carpet," replied Harry.
"Could we get along by the river?"

"We could try," said the doctor.

"Or go up along the edge of the jungle. We ought to find something worth shooting there."

"Let's try the edge of the jungle," said the doctor. "The ground must be firmer there."

Striking up to their right, they managed to get about fifty yards nearer the edge of the forest; but then they had to turn back and make for a point nearer the little camp, where two or three huge trees stood out like sentinels in front of the vast army of vegetation packed closely as trees could stand.

Here the earth proved to be firm, and for a few dozen yards they managed to progress among the trees at the very edge of the jungle. After that the way was stopped by the interlacing creepers and thorny rotans, and after a few minutes' trial it became evident that without the help of stout men with their parangs to clear the way, further progress was impossible.

"Let's go back again," said Harry. "One does get so hot and fagged."

"Better keep walking till your legs are dry," said the doctor. "I don't want you down with a feverish cold."

"They're nearly dry now," said Harry, "and they'll be quite dry by the time we get back."

"Yes," said Phra; "it's farther off than we think for, and will take longer."

"Back again, then," said the doctor; "but I do not like to be beaten like this. I wanted to see more of the elephants and their ways."

"Come to the big stables, then, Doctor, when we get back. Phra will take you and let you see all there are at home; won't you, Phra?"

"Of course, if the doctor wishes to see them."

"Much obliged," replied the doctor; "but it's the wild ones I want to study. What's that?"

He stopped short, and brought his gun round ready to fire at any danger which might assail them from the jungle.

The boys had heard what startled their companion, and cocked their guns. For suddenly there was the quick rush of something behind the dense screen of verdure—a something which seemed to have been watching them, and had darted off as soon as they came near.

"Wild pig?" asked Harry.

"No, I think it was more like a man," replied the doctor. "What do you say, Phra?"

"I think it was a man, but how could a man rush through the jungle like that? We must ask Sree if there are any wild tribe people about here."

"There would not be nearer than the mountain region," said the doctor; "but whatever it was has gone. Look, they're making signals for us to come back."

The boys looked in the direction of the camp, where a thin mat had been hoisted, flag fashion, at the end of one of the bamboo poles of the boat; and hurrying their steps a little they reached the great tree beneath which the cooking fire had been made, to find the boatmen finishing their rice, and a capitally cooked meal waiting for them in the boat.

Sree shook his head at the suggestion of any people being near.

"Plenty of wild beasts, Sahib; and I have seen the tracks of a tiger that has been down to the water. There are plenty of monkeys, too, the greybeards and the big, black fellows; but I don't think we should find savage people here in the jungle. It would be a wild boar or a rhinoceros. No, not a rhinoceros; he would not have run away. It might have been a tapir."

The evening changed very rapidly into night, and with the darkness came the wonderful chorus of strange sounds from the jungle and banks of the river, the splashings and coughing, barking utterances giving warning that the crocodiles were still plentiful. The fire-flies were even more beautiful there than in the denser portion where the river banks were hidden by great timber trees, for on both sides lower down the low, shrub-like growth was more abundant.

The scene was very beautiful, with the star-studded, clear, dark, sky above, and the reflection as it were of another star-spangled heaven in the smooth, gliding water at their feet, while the myriads of fire-flies suggested the existence of another intermediate star sphere in constant motion, now scintillating, now dying out, and again as if floating along the opposite shore like a low cloud of tiny orbs, golden-green, golden, pale lambent, and occasionally ruddier than Aldebaran or some kindred star.

There was less disposition for sitting up talking that night, and soon after the fire was well replenished, and its necessity made plain.

Phra was the first to call attention to the distant cry, which was exactly that of some enormous cat far away in the jungle.

"Calling his mate," said Mr. Kenyon.

"Perhaps the tiger whose tracks Sree saw in the soft mud this evening," said Harry. "I suppose he will not come near our fire, or try to get on board. Think we ought to keep watch, father?"

"Oh no, my boy. We are floating out here a good thirty feet from the land."

"But suppose the boat drifts to the side in the night?" suggested
Phra.

"It is not probable, for we are right where the stream sets off the shore. We are not likely to be disturbed, boys. There is the proof."

Mr. Kenyon pointed to where the men had spread the mats over the horizontal bamboo, and were settling down to sleep.

"Yes, that is a pretty good sign," said the doctor; "the men would not take matters so coolly if there were any danger from tigers."

"Did the Sahibs hear the big tiger calling?" said Sree, thrusting his head out from beneath the men's awning.

"Yes, quite plainly," said Harry. "Think he'll come prowling about the fire, so as to give us a shot?"

"No, no, Sahib," replied the man, shaking his head; "he will be too careful."

"That was a clever way of putting it, Hal," said the doctor drily. "You did not say, Is there any fear of the tiger's swimming out to us?"

"No; why should I tell him that I was a bit nervous?" replied Harry frankly; "even if one does feel a bit scared, I can't help it, can I, father?"

"No, my boy; it is quite natural to feel a little nervous, and to make sure that one's gun is loaded and close at hand. But we must get used to these noises. We can't expect to come out here and live in such a wild place without being a bit startled sometimes. Good-night, boys. But you have not fastened down that mat to shut out the night air."

"Just going to, father," replied Harry. "I don't think, though, that we shall have so much mist here."

The final good-nights were said just as the last murmurs of the men's conversation forward died out, and then all was still, the darkness being relieved by the rays from the fire, which crackled and burned merrily, the light coming quite brightly at times through the interstices of the mats, and then, as the smoke rolled up decreasing again; while after shifting his position to get into a more comfortable attitude, Harry Kenyon drew a long, deep breath, with a touch of a yawn in it, and then told himself that he did not mean to feel in the slightest degree nervous about the strangeness of their position, but was going to have a good, long night's rest.

CHAPTER XIX

A NIGHT ALARM

Sleep comes and sleep goes, and always seems beyond our control. Sometimes the weary one drops off soundly the moment his head has been comfortably settled upon the pillow; at other times, however tired he may have been before going to bed, the very fact of having undressed has so thoroughly wakened him up that the object for which he has come to bed has been completely banished.

It was so with Harry Kenyon in some respects that night. He had not undressed, and he had not gone to bed, only made himself as comfortable as he could on a mat pillow two thwarts of the boat, using his hand as a pillow.

As comfortable as he could! but it was not very comfortable, for the bottom of the boat was as hard as the one quill which the Irishman put beneath him to try what sleeping on a feather-bed was like. There was too much light in the open cabin, and he could hear the ping-wing of mosquitoes above him in the roof.

He shut his eyes tightly, but every now and then he could see that his eyelids looked translucent. The water was making quite a loud, rushing noise against the sides of the boat, and the barkings, croakings, and indescribable noises from jungle and river-bank seemed to be increasing minute by minute.

Harry shifted his position a little, and then felt annoyed, for close at hand he could hear a steady, deep breathing which he knew was his father's, and from just beyond, another deep respiration with a faint buzz in it, which was evidently the doctor's breath coming and going through his big, thick, ruddy-brown moustache.

"Why can't I go to sleep like that?" muttered the lad. "I'm just as tired as they are, and yet I feel as if I were going to lie awake all night."

Harry uttered a sound very strongly resembling the grunt of one of the lower animals, and then resettled himself.

"Now I will go to sleep," he muttered.

But a quarter of an hour must have passed, and he was as wakeful as ever, while he was quite sure that he had heard the low, mournful cry of the tiger very near.

"Asleep, Phra?"

No answer.

"Phra! the tiger's coming quite near."

This in a whisper, but there was no response, for Phra was sleeping soundly.

"Oh, how hot it is! I can't hardly breathe," muttered Harry; "and there are those wretched old Siamese snoring under the mat forward as if they were doing it on purpose to keep me awake.—Wish I could get up and go for a walk.—How stupid! It's mad enough to go for a walk when it's broad daylight. I know it's impossible, and yet I get wishing such an idiotic thing as that.—Might sit up and open the mat, though, and watch the fire-flies.

"What stuff," he said to himself the next moment; "who's going to sit up all night watching fire-flies dancing about like sparks in tinder? Besides, if I opened the matting it might give some of us cold and fever, and it would be all my fault. Oh, why can't I go to sleep! There never was such an unlucky fellow as I am."

He tried turning, but he could not get into a more comfortable position, and he turned back and listened to the splashings in the river coming nearer and going farther away. Once more he began to think of a huge serpent up in the tree swinging itself down, and a faint rustling in the thatch he was sure must be the great reptile's head as it kept on touching the palm leaf matting; and in imagination he saw the forked tongue flicking in and out of the nick in the upper jaw, till a loud tap told him that it was only a beetle inside instead of outside, and it had lost its hold and fallen to the bottom of the boat.

"That was all fancy," he said to himself; "but that rustling noise ashore is not. I believe it's some big animal searching about the camp."

Crack!

"There, I knew it. A buffalo, I believe, and it put its hoof on a dead stick."

Crack, crick, crick, crackle, crackle.

Harry sighed with relief and opened his eyes widely to see how much lighter the interior of the matting and bamboo cabin had become through the fire ashore falling in, and some of the piled-up wood catching and burning briskly.

"Now then," the listener said to himself, "what am I going to fancy next?—I dunno," he added, after a pause. "I'm so wakeful, I could fancy anything. I know what I'll do. I'll go and wake old Sree, and get him to sit and talk to me."

Harry paused to think again. The old hunter was lying just outside the cabin, and the nearest to it of the men. Then Mike with his currant-dumpling-like face was beside him, and he would not want to wake him too. How was he to manage? If Sree had been sleeping in the side of the boat, he could have stretched out his hand and touched him, as there was no awning there, nothing but some baskets.

But the great difficulty was how to get past Phra and his father and the doctor before he could reach the matting, pull it aside, and touch Sree. It seemed impossible. It was very dark now, and there would be three pairs of legs to get over, and he felt sure that he would stumble over them and wake everybody up.

How to manage—how to do it—how to get by—how to get by?

How to get by?

It was so easy. Sree woke up at a touch, and they sat on the top of the cabin and watched the fire-flies—and the blazing fire. They listened to croakings and cries and the low howl of the tiger, which did not seem to be successful in finding his mate, and it was very calm and restful and pleasant out there in the night, only they dared not move for fear the thatch should give way, and let them both through on the top of those sleeping below.

And so they sat and whispered and talked about the elephants bathing, and the big one scenting them at last and giving the alarm, and the whole herd disappearing after crossing that green marsh place which let them through when they were walking. There was that strange rush that they heard too, that which Sree said was a wild boar, and then—bump!

What was that?

It was to Harry Kenyon just as if a boat had thumped up against theirs, and some one with a voice like his own had asked that question.

But there was no answer. All was perfectly still in the cabin, while the noises in the jungle and on the river banks were not so loud.

It was all dark too, for the fire had burned down, and there was no glimmering light through the interstices of the mats.

But he felt that he ought to see that fire, even if it were merely the glowing embers, seated as he was up there on the top of the cabin roof.

Absurd! How could he be sitting up there, and with Sree too!

They could not have got up there, and he was in his place in the cabin. All that was dreaming.

"Then I have been asleep," he said to himself. "I must have dropped off hours ago, and lain here till that woke me. Some one said, 'What was that?' No; I said it to myself, and seemed to hear it."

Harry ceased his musings, feeling that he was certainly wide awake now, and as certain that he had been awakened by a bump on the side of the boat, for there was a faint grinding sound as of another boat rubbing up against the side.

The boy turned hotter then in the darkness, for there was a low whispering plainly heard, and the first thought which came to him now was that some boat had come to attack them in the night, a boatload of the wild, piratical people who lived by robbing and bloodshed. He had from time to time heard of junks and trading boats being attacked and plundered, but only rarely in their neighbourhood. Certainly, though, this was one, and his hand stole to his gun, which he grasped tightly as with a quick movement he rose to a sitting position so that he might alarm his father.

Just then there was a quick, rustling sound as the matting curtain which separated them from the men forward was drawn aside, and with a strange sensation of palpitation in his breast, instead of calling to his sleeping companions, the lad involuntarily cocked both barrels of his gun.

The loud click, click—click, click gave the alarm.

"Who's that?" cried Mr. Kenyon, springing up.

"It is I, Sahib—Sree," came in the familiar voice.

"Yes! What is it?" said Mr. Kenyon, and as he spoke the clicking of gun-cocks, in company with a quick movement, told plainly enough that the other two occupants of the cabin were awake, and well on the alert for whatever danger there might be.

"Adong has come, Sahib," said Sree, whose voice trembled.

"Adong? What does this mean—is it some treachery?"

"I fear so, Sahib," said Sree huskily.

"And you have come to warn us?"

"Yes, Sahib."

"Come in here, then. Harry, hand this man a gun and ammunition. You,
Sree—there is a boat out there?"

"Yes, Sahib; the one Adong came in."

"With a party of men?"

"No, no, Sahib; he came alone."

"Ah, and the men all side against us?"

"Yes, Sahib; I suppose all."

"Very well; then we must fight. But who is Adong?"

"The Sahib knows him: the young one of the two boys who help me hunt for wild things in the jungle."

"Oh, that young fellow!"

"Yes, Sahib; he looks to me as to a father."

"And yet goes against you?"

"He go against me, Sahib?" cried the man. "Why, he would lay down his life for me. As soon as he knew, he seized the first boat he could swim to and followed us up the river."

"But you said the men were all against us."

"Yes, Sahib; as far as I can make out, all the fighting men have risen, and they are killing and burning; and when Adong came after me, they were going in a great crowd with spear and kris against the King's house."

"What!" cried Phra wildly, and Harry caught his arm.

"Hush!" he whispered; "it may not be so bad. That man may have taken fright."

"You hear all this, Cameron?" said Mr. Kenyon hoarsely.

"Hear it!" groaned the doctor. "It is what we have always dreaded. And
I am here! Oh, Kenyon, my wife—my wife!"

Mr. Kenyon drew a deep breath.

"Thanks, Sree," he said calmly; "I thought you meant there was danger here. Wake up the men at once."

"They are all awake and listening to Adong, Sahib. He had to run for his life. What will the Sahib do?"

"Go back at once."

"No, no, Sahib," cried the hunter wildly; "it would mean death to you all. They would seize the Prince, and kill him. You must wait till day, and then we will go on right up into the jungle, where you must hide till there is peace again, and you can go back home. We can get food for you, and a hiding-place where the people who come to find and kill the young Prince shall never find where you are."

"Mr. Kenyon, you will not listen to this man?" cried Phra wildly; but he received no answer, for just then the doctor gripped his friend tightly by the arm in the darkness which seemed to add to the horror of the terrible situation.

"Kenyon," he whispered, "I am weak and ill. I cannot think. This stroke has driven me mad. Act for me, old friend—think for me. Help me to save my wife."

Mr. Kenyon's reply was a firm pressure of the hand, but some moments elapsed before he spoke.

"Sree," he said at last, "you are a brave, true servant, and your advice is good; but neither the doctor nor I can do as you say. What boat is this that has joined us? A small one, of course?"

"Yes, Sahib; it is for two rowers, but it was the only one Adong could get."

"It will do. Now listen, for I trust you."

"Yes, the Sahib always trusted his servant," replied Sree proudly.

"You will take command of this boat that we are in, and I trust to you and your men to fight for and protect your young Prince and my son."

"As long as we can fight, Sahib," said the man proudly. "We all love them, and would die for them."

"I know it, Sree. Then I trust you to find some hiding-place where they will be safe till this rising is at an end."

"Yes, Sahib; but what will the master and the doctor Sahib do?" said Sree excitedly, and without heeding the eager whispering going on close by.

"We take the small boat now directly, and go down the river."

"But it would be to meet boats coming up, Sahib," said the man excitedly. "You would be running upon bad men's spears."

"We have our guns, and shall be prepared," said Mr. Kenyon coldly.

"But the little sampan—in the darkness, Sahib. You would overset, and that means a horrible death too."

"Then you will ask two men to volunteer to take us."

"Adong and I would row you safely back, Sahib," said the man earnestly.

"No; I cannot spare you from watching over my son. You and your man, who know him so well, must stay."

"Sahib, we cannot spare you and the good doctor Sahib. Pray, pray do not try to go back. It would be only to lose your lives."

"Silence, man! We go to save the doctor Sahib's wife."

"Ah, yes! the sweet, good lady," sighed Sree.

"And the King is our friend; we cannot leave him like this. No more words; obey my orders."

"No!" shouted Harry, out of the darkness. "Stop where you are."

"Harry!" cried Mr. Kenyon.

"Yes, father, I hear; but if the King has been attacked, and—and—you know what I mean," said the boy, choking for a moment, "Phra says he is King and master now, and that this shall not be. We say we won't be treated like children and be sent away to be taken care of while you go down the river to fight."

"That is right," said Phra firmly. "Let me speak now, Hal. You are going to save dear Mrs. Cameron from these wretches—these fools, who have risen against my father; we must go too. You are going to try and save your friend, my father, who has never done anything but good for his people."

"Yes, and—"

"I have not spoken all, Mr. Kenyon," said the boy proudly. "You are going to try and save him. Well, I am his son. Not a man yet, but I can fight; and where should I be but helping to save him? What! Do you want him, if he lives, to be ashamed of the boy who ran away to hide in the woods? Do you want Hal to let his father go alone? Do you think we two could ever look dear Mrs. Cameron in the eyes again if we had been such a pair of cowards as that? No: Hal and I are coming with you, but there are not enough of us to attack and fight with all those wretches. We must try cunning against them, and go to the doctor's bungalow and to the palace by night, and bring those who are waiting for us to the boat. Then we can come back into the jungle to wait till my father goes back again to take his place. Now, Sree, clear away the mats and unfasten the boat; we must start back at once. Cast off the other, it will be in the way."

A heavy sigh rose from one occupant of the cabin, a deep groan from another, but not a word of opposition came from either of the elders; and the next minute the men forward were busy rolling up the mats and unmooring the boat, while two crept along outside the cabin to take their oars.

It was still intensely dark, for the matting at the cabin sides had not been rolled up, and Mr. Kenyon sat trying to whisper a few words of comfort to the doctor, who seemed completely prostrated by the news, when the former felt a hand laid upon his arm, and he started slightly, for in the black darkness he had not noticed that some one had drawn near.

"You are not very angry with me, father?" was whispered.

"Angry with you, my boy? No."

"Nor with me, Mr. Kenyon?"

"Nor yet with you, Phra, my dear lad. No. You made me feel very, very proud; but I think that I ought not to let you run such risks."

"God bless you both, boys, for what you have said," groaned the doctor. "Boys? No; you spoke like men, while I sit here feeling weak and helpless as a child. But I shall be better soon—in a few minutes I shall be a man once more, and we must all talk, and plan, and scheme. For Phra is right; it must be done with cunning, as we are so weak. Now please leave me to myself for a few minutes. First tell me, though, are we going back?"

"Yes," said Harry, after looking out between the mats; "the boat is steadily going with the stream. The other is floating yonder."

The doctor drew a deep breath.

"Hah!" he said; "that has taken a weight from my breast. Going back—going to the rescue. Heaven help us! Shall we be too late?"

CHAPTER XX

A DREARY RETURN

Harry was correct: the boat was gliding steadily back with the stream, and Sree was standing right forward in the prow, looking out and uttering warnings from time to time of dangers ahead, in the shape of fallen trees, while he kept on admonishing the men to be content with keeping the boat straight while the darkness lasted, and deferring all attempts at making speed till the day came.

It was still very dark, the stars being nearly blotted out by the thin mist; but there were sundry significant hints that morning was approaching, for the scintillation of the fire-flies had ceased, and the chorus of reptile and wandering beast in the depths of the forest was dying away.

Leaving Mr. Kenyon and the doctor talking, the boys were standing together right astern beyond the two rowers there, who were too intent upon working their oars to pay any heed to them and their discourse, though as it was carried on in English, they could have made out nothing, had they listened.

"I'm glad father wasn't cross," said Harry after several awkward attempts at getting up a conversation, Phra having replied to all he said in monosyllables, as in the present instance.

"Yes."

"It seemed so queer to get up and contradict his orders, and say we would do as we liked."

"Yes," said Phra, with a sigh, and then he added, "but it was quite right, for we both felt that it was like doing our duty."

"Ah!" cried Harry eagerly. "So it was. Look here, Phra, old chap, don't you be down-hearted."

"I am not going to be till I know the worst."

"That's the way to take it; for look here, that Adong would only know that there was gong-beating and spearing and setting places on fire—a regular riot. He would not know anything about how matters were at the palace."

"No; he could not," said Phra, with a sigh.

"And your father has got plenty of fighting men, who could soon stop a mob."

"If they were faithful to him," said Phra, sighing.

"Oh well, they would be for certain."

"I don't know," said Phra. "I have always been afraid of this. You see, the second king has made friends with the bonzes, and they can talk and preach to the people, and make them believe almost anything about my father."

"Because he does all kinds of scientific things," said Harry, "that they cannot understand."

"Yes," said Phra; "it is the old story. They are too stupid to grasp the meaning of all he does, and because they cannot understand it, they teach the people to believe that it is all what you English people call 'witchcraft' and wickedness. Oh, I have not patience with the silly babies—they are not men."

"I hope we shall have a chance to knock some of their thick heads together. There, you are getting in better heart now about the news."

Phra turned upon him sadly.

"Are you getting in better heart about poor Mrs. Cameron?" he said.

"Oh, Phra!" cried Harry passionately. "Don't."

"You tell me to be of good heart about my father and you are in despair about Mrs. Cameron."

"Yes, that's right," cried Harry passionately; "but I won't be so any longer, for I don't believe that any of your people, even the very worst of them, would be such wretches as to hurt her."

Phra uttered a low groan.

"What!" cried Harry. "You do believe they would?"

"Our people," said Phra sadly, "are, as my father has said to me, quiet and good and gentle as can be. They always seem merry and happy; but deep down in their nature there is a something which can be stirred up, and then they are like the fierce savages from the mountains yonder. They will do anything terrible then, and these wretches who are trying to place the second king in my father's place know that and have driven them to rise. Hal, we can't tell what may have happened till we get down home; but if they have killed my father, I am king, and I shall pray night and day that I may grow quickly into a man, so that I may kill and kill and kill till I feel that my dear father is avenged. It will be war until I have done my duty there."

Harry was silent, as he stood listening and gazing in his companion's face, which had suddenly seemed to start out of the darkness—the face alone; all else was pretty well invisible—and there it was, a strange, pale, ghastly-looking visage, distorted by the agony in the boy's breast, and the deadly determination the pangs had brought forth.

Harry shuddered, and for some time the only sounds heard were the murmur of voices in the cabin and the swish of water as the men dipped their oars.

"Your father was right," said the English boy at last.

"What about?" said Phra hoarsely.

"About the Siamese people being so amiable and gentle until they are stirred."

"Yes, I see what you mean," replied Phra, "and I suppose it is so, Hal. I feel as if I can see my poor father lying dead and covered with bad wounds given by a set of cowards rushing upon him, and it makes me seem to see blood, and I want to punish them for killing one who has thought of nothing but doing the people good."

"There, don't think such things any more," cried Harry. "I won't. It can't be true. I'm going to believe that we shall find him and Mrs. Cameron quite well. Yes; I know how it would be, for your father is such a thorough gentleman in his ways, and so thoughtful. As soon as he heard of there being any trouble, he would either go or send one of the people with a lot of spearmen to protect them, and bring Mrs. Cameron and all the English people into the palace. Now then, what have you got to say to that?"

"Yes, I think he is sure to have done that," said Phra, speaking very slowly and gravely. "He would—if he had time; but suppose the first he heard of the trouble was in the mad rush made by his murderers."

"Shan't!" cried Harry. "I won't suppose anything of the kind. But I say, it's a pity that we didn't take more notice about what I heard said that day when we were lying in the boat place."

"Yes," said Phra; "but I did not think we need mind a few bitter words. Such things have been so often said by the discontented people."

"Discontented!" cried Harry angrily; "and a deal they had to be discontented about! They always seemed, from the poorest to the richest, as comfortable and as happy as could be."

The morning broke as bright and sunny as ever, but to those on board the boat all was changed. The excitement and delight of the trip, with its constant array of fresh objects, were gone. The birds which flashed out of the trees looked dull of colour; the troops of monkeys bounding through the branches on either side were unnoticed; and the gorgeous displays of flowers that here and there greeted the eyes of the travellers excited no attention.

The crocodiles seemed to Harry to be the only things in keeping with their situation, as in a gloomy, despondent way he went to the fore part of the boat to look out for them on a mud bank, or lying, with only their eyes visible on the surface of the water, in some eddy or pool.

The constant presence of these loathsome reptiles suggested to him the troubles at the city and its outskirts. And he felt that there would be fighting, with people slain and tossed into the stream, where the crocodiles would gather in swarms; and there were moments when he almost wondered that some strange instinct did not lead the horrible creatures to follow the boat instead of hiding in the dark parts, where the trees hung their branches low down and touching the water.

After a time he heard his name called, and he went back to the cabin, where he felt quite hurt and disgusted to see that Mike had prepared a comfortable breakfast, and his friends were waiting for him before beginning.

Harry's face must have spoken plainly his wonder at seeing the doctor, so short a time before overcome with grief, looking perfectly calm and serious, and prepared to take his place. His father noticed it, and spoke at once.

"Yes, my boy," he said, "we must eat and drink, or the machinery will be useless when we want it most for thinking and acting. Sit down and make a good breakfast."

"Oh, father," cried the boy passionately, "I feel as if I could not touch anything."

"We all do, Hal," said Mr. Kenyon; "but we may have to fight, and we shall require all our strength in our efforts to save Mrs. Cameron and the King."

Harry nodded, took his place, and—there is no other way of describing what followed—ate and drank savagely, acting as if every morsel or draught that passed his lips were to give him strength for what might come.

The meal was soon ended, and Mike received his orders to see that the men were refreshed, while the doctor and Mr. Kenyon commenced talking, with the result that the two boys now went right aft and sat together looking up stream.

For some minutes neither spoke, and then Harry broke out angrily:—

"It makes me feel mad," he cried.

"Yes," said Phra, "and one feels the worse at having to sit here and wait, without being able to do anything."

"I didn't mean that," cried Harry angrily; "I mean about sitting and eating and drinking there, just as if I was an animal without any feeling. It's horrible."

"Your father was quite right," said Phra; "we do want to be strong."

Harry grunted, and turned away his face, to sit scowling at the river, while Phra rested his head upon his hand.

"Oh," cried Harry at last, "I should like to kill some one."

Phra smiled at him sadly.

"Perhaps we shall have to try before long," he said.

"I hope so. I should like to help kill all the wretches who have made all this trouble."

"Should you?" said Phra, with a faint smile. "But look here, Hal, you will try and help me to save my father?"

"Will I?" cried the boy angrily. "Why, you know I will. Here, Phra, let's try and think out some way of getting him out of the palace."

"I'm afraid we shall find that he has shut himself up there, and that we cannot get near him."

"Well, so long as he is safe we need not mind."

They sat on talking and planning together, more for the sake of keeping from dwelling on the great trouble than from any hope of thinking out something feasible, and the day wore on till the boat was drawn up to an opening in the apparently endless jungle.

Harry said to his companion that it was a shame, but it was a necessity. Food had to be cooked for the men as well as for themselves, and it was no loss of time, for after a couple of hours' rest the men worked with renewed energy, the boat gliding swiftly down the stream till it became too dark to venture farther amidst the many dangers to navigation. In fact, they had kept on till, in spite of the native boatmen's skill, the light craft was run half over a huge tree-trunk lying out at right angles to the bank, and for a time a terrible capsize was imminent.

For the bows were clean out of the river for some distance, and the water began to rush in over the stern, till several of the men crept forward, with the result that the bows went down so suddenly, as the craft balanced on the great trunk, that the water rushed in at the other end, and it seemed to be a foregone conclusion that they would sink. For with a rush and a plunge they cleared the obstacle, gliding over into the deep water, the boat filling to gunwale as she came to a level again, with every one preparing to swim for the nearest shore.

But Sree called upon the little crew to follow his example, and they all glided overboard, taking opposite sides, and supported themselves by holding on to the boat.

Then, in obedience to calls from Sree, the boys handed the men various articles from Mike's little kitchen arrangements. Those left on board took crock and bucket, and from their united efforts in baling, all danger of sinking was soon at an end, while in a few minutes the men one by one crept back into the boat, where they could bale with more effect.

Finally the boat was entirely freed from water, and an opening, which happened to be near at hand, was reached, a fire made for drying clothes, and as wretched a night as could be imagined was spent.

But they were all dry and able to start the moment it began to be light, and that day was a repetition of the preceding, and followed by another despondent night, this time, though, one which gave refreshment to all.

That next day they knew they would reach the river town, and had to time themselves so as not to get there before dark, in spite of the eagerness for news. But it was hard to contrive everything to their wishes. It had been expected that they would get right back two hours before sunset, and this meant lying up in some creek for that space, while Sree or Adong went forward by land to reconnoitre and bring news of the state of affairs; but it so happened that the tide had not been counted upon, and instead of gliding down with the stream for the latter part of the way, they had to force the boat against an adverse current, so that it became hard work to get to their destination by dark.

CHAPTER XXI

A HIDING-PLACE

Long before the more familiar parts of the river were reached, preparations had been made in the way of seeing that the guns were loaded, though their use would be only in some grave emergency, since it was fully grasped that force would in all probability be of no avail. Clever scheming must be the weapon, though how to bring it to bear would depend upon circumstances.

At last they were nearing the part of the river where it was lined with the walls of the great temples, and farther on with boats. In a very short time they would be abreast of the palace and of the little English quarter, Mr. Kenyon's home being farthest away.

And now, to the surprise of all, Sree spoke out earnestly, unasked.

"If the place is in the hands of the rebels," he said, "the Sahibs would lose their lives directly they landed."

"I cannot help that," said the doctor. "I must land as soon as I am near home."

"The doctor Sahib will not be doing his best to save his wife," said
Sree sternly.

"No, Doctor, you must stay in the boat while I land," said Phra.

"To be killed at once," said Sree. "No, we will not let our Prince land now. Sahibs, I am like the rest of the people, and I can go ashore without being stopped. You must trust to me to go first and bring news."

"I cannot wait; it is impossible," said the doctor.

"I must go and find what has happened to my father." cried Phra.

And all the time the boat was being urged steadily on by the rowers, nearer and nearer to the river town; but so far there was nothing to suggest danger, for the customary sounds arose like a low murmur from the distance, and a faint glow hung above the river—the reflection from the paper lanthorns hanging from the boats.

"All seems to be unchanged," said Mr. Kenyon, breaking a long pause.

"Yes; it may be a false alarm," said the doctor. "Tell your men to row faster, Sree, and to stop at the first landing-place beyond the palace."

"The Sahib doctor does not see," replied the old hunter. "Something must have happened. Where are the lights?"

"Yonder," said the doctor, pointing to the reflection.

"Oh, Sahib, those are as nothing," said the old man. "And we can hardly hear the city breathe. We are close there, and we see that faint light and hear that little buzz of voices. It's more like a few insects. When I have come out of the jungle far away, it has been more bright than that and twice as loud. Will the Sahib tell his friend the doctor he must stay and I must go and see?"

"Yes, Cameron, Sree is right," said Mr. Kenyon. "Let him go first."

"My wife!" said the doctor, in a hoarse whisper so full of despair that a choking sensation rose to Harry's throat as he sat there in the dark.

"It means death, Sahib," said Sree plaintively, and the boat glided on, till, rounding a bend, those on board could see that very few lit-up houseboats were visible, and that the light came from the open ground on either side of the palace. While hardly had they grasped that when there was a sudden increase of the faint glow, and the loud, jarring noise of gongs beaten, followed by a scattered firing, the reports sounding loud in the darkness around.

A thrill ran through all present, and each drew a deep breath, for it was evident that the danger was very close, and in all probability watchers might be hidden among the bushes of the river bank, whose presence would be made known by the throwing of spears.

"The Sahib doctor hears," whispered the old hunter; "there is fighting going on by the palace. He will stay, and let his servant go and see?"

"Yes; go," said the doctor huskily.

"It is right, Cameron," whispered Mr. Kenyon.—"Now, Sree, what will you do?"

"Leave it to me, Sahib," was the reply, and turning to the men he whispered his orders, and all but one of the rowers laid in their oars, while the last just sent the boat gently along under the farther bank of the river where the eddy made the task less difficult, and for the next few hundred yards they glided along under the walls and terraces of the principal Wats or temples, till they drew near to the palace, and Harry laid his hand upon that which came out of the darkness and gripped his arm.

"Look," whispered Phra, in a hoarse whisper.

"Yes; I see," was the reply, and the two boys strained their eyes to make out what was going on near the palace, where paper lanthorns were gliding here and there, and a low buzz arose as of many voices; but the palace itself, as far as they could make out for the trees, was quite dark, and not a sound arose.

The firing had ceased before they drew near, and save the lights moving among the trees, and the buzz of voices, there seemed to be nothing more that they could learn.

The boat glided on silently and without challenge, while to all appearances, as far as they could make out in the darkness, there was not another vessel on the river, till they had passed the stone landing-place and reached the other side of the palace, where again a few paper lanthorns were seen moving here and there, and now and again came the faint sound of talking.

And now lower down they could just make out the lights of a few boats moored on their side of the river, but only a few, where they should have been packed close together.

They were now nearing the bank where the bungalows of the English residents had been erected, and it needed a few passionate, appealing words on the part of Mr. Kenyon to make the doctor refrain from landing.

"For aught we know there may be hundreds watching the boat," whispered Harry's father, "and your landing may mean the signal for a shower of spears. Sree, go on with your plans."

"Then there must be silence, Sahib."

"Yes, of course. Where will you land?"

"Yonder, Sahib, and as soon as I have leapt on the bank Adong, who is rowing, will take the boat across again and tie it up."

"Yes, and then?"

"You will wait. A boat can lie there without being noticed even in the daytime. When I pipe like one of the little herons that fish from the bank, the boat must come over and fetch me, for I shall have news."

"Yes, yes," said Mr. Kenyon hastily, while the rest eagerly drank in every word. "You will take one of the double guns?"

"No, Sahib; nothing but my kris in my padung. If I take a gun and am seen, I shall seem an enemy and be speared."

"Yes; right. And we are to wait until you come back?"

"That is so," whispered Sree. "Now, silence. No one will speak. Adong knows."

The next moment the prow of the light boat touched the dark bank, and
Sree leaped right ashore.

Harry held his breath, expecting to hear the rush of feet; but all was still, and the boat went gliding back through the darkness to the other side, where the men made it fast, and then squatted down upon their heels in perfect silence, watching the faint lights across the river.

It was a terrible silence, and Harry wondered, as he sat there listening for anything which might give him a clue to the state of affairs, at the change which had taken place during their short absence. When they left, the place was bright with gaiety, and the river fringed with houseboats full of light-hearted people; now all was painfully still, save the murmur from the direction of the palace, while the river glided by, lapping the sides of the boat, and making the boy shudder as he thought of how much it could tell of the secrets hidden beneath its dark waters.

All at once Phra started violently, for a loud shouting and beating of gongs arose once more from the direction of the palace. They could see lights, too, moving, as if a party were on their way to make an attack; but the sound of firing recommenced and kept on till the gong-beating ceased, when the lights seemed for the most part to die out.

"Those mean attacks being made on the palace, Phra," whispered Harry, "and the firing is from our friends."

"Yes," said Phra; "but it is so hard to bear. Hal, I must go across and see."

"No," said a voice close to his ear. "You must stay and bear it, Phra, till we get news."

"Don't say that, Mr. Kenyon," whispered Phra; "it is so terrible."

"Yes, my boy, I know it; but be a man. It is evident that your father and his friends have beaten the enemy off again."

"Or been killed," said Phra bitterly.

"Oh no, my lad; if the enemy had won, there would have been a burst of shouting, and—"

Mr. Kenyon paused, unwilling to proceed.

"I know what you were going to say, Mr. Kenyon; they would have set fire to the palace."

"Yes; they would have tried to burn the place," said Mr. Kenyon hurriedly. "Hist! a boat is coming."

All crouched down lower in the bottom and waited, for there was the splash of oars and the murmur of many voices, suggesting that the boat must be large; and in a short time they could see that it was one of the biggest barges, propelled by many oars, while as the covered-in part loomed up before them in the darkness while passing, the rapid chatter told that it was crammed with men.

There was little fear of their being noticed, as the boat lay close up under the bank, its occupants sitting so low that they were pretty well hidden by the side; but Harry held his breath, for he felt assured that these were fighting men on their way to join in the attack upon the palace. But his anticipation of a shower of spears was not realized, and the great barge, probably one of the king's, passed by without noticing them.

As soon as the vessel was out of hearing, Harry whispered,—

"Is that full of friends or enemies, Phra?"

"Enemies," said the lad bitterly. "If my father is shut up like that, and the palace being attacked, he will have no friends. Oh, how long—how long must I wait before I go to help?"

"Patience, my boy, patience," said Mr. Kenyon softly; "we are all as anxious as you; but when we stir it must be to do good, not to increase your father's anxieties."

"How could we?" said Phra impatiently.

"By placing the son he believes to be beyond the reach of his enemies in a position of danger."

"That was just the right thing to say to him, poor fellow!" thought Harry. "I wish I was as clever as my father. Poor old Phra! he can't say anything to that."

Harry was right. Phra remained silent, but from time to time, as he sat with his hand resting upon his comrade's arm, the English boy could feel it quiver as if from the pain he suffered.

Suddenly there was a fresh burst of shouting from across the river in the direction of the palace, suggestive of the occupants of the boat having joined those they supposed to be the besiegers; and now the party sat anxiously listening for another attack, but they waited in vain.

And how long the time seemed that Sree had been away! It was impossible to make any calculation in such a position, but everything had for some time been silent in the direction of the palace, where the lights had gone out one by one, while lower down the river there was not one to be seen, only the twinkling of the fire-flies in the gardens on the other side.

Suddenly the silence was broken by the doctor saying aloud,—

"Is he playing us false—has he escaped to save himself?"

"No," said Mr. Kenyon firmly, "but speak lower. Sound travels along the river by night."

"Sree would not cheat us, Mr. Cameron," said Harry bitterly. "I'll answer for him."

"Then why doesn't he return—why doesn't he return?"

"Because he has much to do."

"But he must have been three hours away," said the doctor excitedly. "I cannot bear this inaction longer. Kenyon, you must have me put ashore yonder."

"No," said Harry's father sternly; "I must take the lead here, for all our sakes. The man has his life to look to, and has no doubt had to thread his way among enemies."

"He will not come back," said the doctor. "I will wait another half-hour, and then at all costs I will be set ashore."

"Be silent, please," said Mr. Kenyon sternly.

"Ah, there he is," whispered Harry, for there was a low, hoarse, piping cry from the opposite bank.

Adong rose silently to his feet and raised his oar upright, while one of the men forward set the boat free and gave it a good thrust out into the current.

Adong lowered his oar silently into the water, not making the slightest splash; but to the astonishment of the little English party, instead of urging the boat across he gave a few vigorous thrusts and drove her back to the bank, squatting down again in his place.

"What does this mean?" whispered Mr. Kenyon sternly.

"Hist! Boat coming," whispered back the man, in his own tongue.

Those who heard him listened, but they could not hear a sound, and at the end of a few moments Mr. Kenyon turned angrily upon the man.

"There is no boat," he said, in the man's language. "Row across directly."

"No," said the man; "boat coming. Adong hear much farther than the master. Boat coming."

Harry thought of the man's life in the jungle, passed in tracking the wild creatures with his teacher, Sree, and felt that his senses would be keener than theirs, so that the boy was in nowise surprised when at the end of a minute the faint, far-off sound of paddling was borne to his ears, and a boat came nearer—a boat propelled by only one oar, and as far as he could make out with only two people in it besides the rower, for he could hear whispering as it passed like a shadow on the dark background in front of where he sat.

Adong made no movement till he was satisfied that the boat was out of hearing. Then uttering one word, the men who had held their prow to the bank once more gave a firm thrust, sending it into the current, and Adong sent the boat steadily across the river.

"Quicker! quicker!" whispered Phra, for from lower down came the sound of oars being used with furious haste, and voices were heard speaking angrily, while having the tide in their favour the fresh boat came along at so rapid a rate that the one the English party were in had only just time to glide in among some overhanging bushes by the bank, when a good-sized barge passed by so near to them that Harry felt that they must have been seen, though the next moment he knew that the passers-by would have looked upon their boat as one moored to the bank and empty.

"Sree!"

"I am here, Sahib," whispered the hunter, stepping down to them as soon as the barge was beyond hearing; "that is an enemy's boat, I think, in chase of one which went up before."

"Your news, man—your news!" whispered the doctor hoarsely.

"I went to the doctor Sahib's house."

"Yes! My wife?"

"The doctor Sahib's house is gone."

"Burned?"

"Yes, Sahib, to ashes. There was no one there."

"Did you go to the bungalow, Sree?" whispered Harry.

"Burnt down to embers, Sahib Harry. Every house belonging to the
English masters has been burned down."

"But man—man!" whispered the doctor wildly, "what are houses? Our friends, the English people? have you found out nothing more?"

"Yes, Sahib Doctor; the ladies were saved by the King and his spearmen. There was a great fight, and they were all taken to the palace. Not one was killed."

"Thank God!" groaned the doctor, and a deep silence reigned for a few minutes—a silence Phra respected for the doctor's sake, though he was burning to hear more. At last the lad spoke.

"How did you know this?"

"From my boy, Lahn. I sought for and found him, my Prince. He saw everything: the fight, the English Sahibs and their ladies taken to the palace, and the houses burned by the people. Lahn is here with me now."

"Tell me about my father," said Phra, with his voice trembling and an agonizing pain attacking him for fear lest he hoped too much. "He is safe?"

"Safe when Lahn was with the crowd of men at sunset. He is in the part of the palace by the little court where the young Prince's rooms are. The gates are shut, and there is much fighting by the second king's friends, who are trying to get in."

"And my father has all his brave spearmen to defend him?"

There was silence.

"Why do you not speak?" cried Phra angrily.