CHAPTER TEN.
A SERIOUS COMPLICATION.
In a few weeks all thought of considering themselves as prisoners wasforgotten, and Murray and Ned were as busy as it was possible to be inthat hot steamy climate.
There was, however, one point about which Murray made a complaint, andspoke to Mr Braine upon the subject, and that was the presence of armedmen as guards; for wherever they went, even if it was from one end ofthe village to the other, there were these quiet dark sentinels, and sosure as either Murray or his nephew came to the conclusion that theywere alone, the next moment one of the men would be seen pretty close athand.
"Never mind, uncle," Ned said, laughingly; "the sun always shines here,so one must expect to have shadows."
"But I don't like it, Ned; it worries me," said his uncle; and as statedhe complained to Mr Braine, who promised to speak to the rajah, and twodays later came to the house where its occupants were busy skinning anddrying their specimens.
"The rajah has sent me to ask if he can do anything more for you,Murray," said their visitor. "He has been saying again that he isdelighted with your discovery of the tin, and that he shall some day setmen to work mining and smelting, but he hopes you will persevere, anddiscover a good vein of gold. You are to speak as soon as you are readyfor a long expedition, and the elephants will be brought up."
"Let's go soon, uncle," said Ned. "I want to have an elephant ride."
"Patience, patience, boy. There, that's not such a bad imitation oflife, is it?" said Murray, holding out a beautiful amethystine-lookingkingfisher.
"Capital!" said Mr Braine, smiling at the enthusiasm his new friendbrought to bear in his pursuit.
"Do for us?" said Murray, thoughtfully; "do for us? No, I think not.He is wonderfully civil; feeds us too well; the attention we get isexcellent, and you people treat us as if we were your brothers."
"You are satisfied, then?" said Mr Braine.
"Yes, I think so; eh, Ned?"
"I am enjoying it thoroughly," replied the latter.
"Oh yes, of course. So long as you can be always off on some prank oranother with Braine's unbroken colt. It suits you, you lazy young dog."
"Oh, uncle, what a shame! Frank and I have brought you in some splendidspecimens."
"Well, pretty tidy; but that rare trogon's tail feathers were wanting inthe three central pens."
"We'll get you another, then," cried Ned.
"You like the place, then?" said Mr Braine.
"Like it, sir! I never imagined being a prisoner was half so good."
"Ah yes--prisoners," said Murray, looking up from his work, which he wasstill pursuing in spite of the arrival of his visitor. "Here! hi!Hamet!"
"Yes, master."
"Go and turn those skins over carefully, and put them out of the sun.They are drying too fast."
"Yes, master."
"Yes; prisoners," continued Murray. "You did not take my message to therajah about those spearmen always following us about."
"I did, and that was my principal reason for coming and interrupting youthis morning."
"Ah!" cried Murray, looking up with an unfortunate bird turned insideout in one hand, and a brush laden with preserving paste in the other;"what did he say?"
"That he esteemed the visit and presence of so great a scientific mantoo highly to run any risk of his coming to harm. That many of hispeople were not so enlightened as those about the court, and were likelyto resent the presence of an Englishman."
"And boy," said Ned in an undertone.
"And boy," said Mr Braine, smiling; "and that he would die of grief ifanything happened to you; whereas, if harm happened when you had yourguard, he could punish them?"
"Poor wretches!" said Murray, brushing away at his bird-skin. "Softsoap. Gammon, Braine. He is afraid that we shall slip off, eh?"
"Yes; that is the plain English of the matter."
"And the men are to follow us still."
"Yes. You must put up with it."
"Ah, well, the place is so rich that I will not grumble. I must saythat the men are never too attentive, and it would be unpleasant if wewere to be speared and krissed; eh, Ned?"
"And skinned and preserved as specimens of the English for hishighness's museum," said Ned, quietly, as he carefully drew the skin ofa lovely blue and drab thrush over its skull.
"No one to do it," said Mr Braine, laughing.
"Well, I shall not grumble again," continued Murray. "Tell him we'll gosoon right up to the hills through the jungle, and that I'll try andfind him a gold-mine. You were quite right, Braine; we could not havedone better for natural history if we could have gone where we liked."
"I am sure you couldn't."
"Ladies quite well--Mrs Braine and the Barnes's and Greigs?"
"Yes; but complaining that you do not visit us all more often."
"Very good of them, but I must get on with my work."
"And I with mine."
"Oh, don't hurry away. Stop and smoke a cigar. How's that boy ofyours?"
"Quite well, thank you, Mr Murray."
They looked up sharply, and there was Frank standing in the verandalooking in.
"Hullo! busy, Ned?"
"Yes. Two more birds to do."
"Oh, what a bother! I want you particularly. I say, Mr Murray, whydon't you let Amy Barnes skin these little tiny sun-birds? It wantssome one with pretty little fingers like hers."
"Because, sir, it is not fit work for a lady," replied Murray, shortly.
"Ha, ha! what a game! Why, she asked me to get her a few, and I setthat one-eyed chap to knock some down with a sumpitan--you know, Ned, ablowpipe, and she has had six these last three days, and skinned themall beautifully. She gave me one to show me how well she could do it.Here, where did I stick the thing?"
He began searching his pockets, and ended by dragging out a rough tuftof glistening metallic feathers, at which he looked down with a comicalexpression of countenance.
"A delightful specimen," said Murray, grimly.
"Yes, now. But it was beautiful when she showed it to me. I oughtn'tto have put it in my pocket, I suppose. But, I say, Mr Murray, can'tyou spare Ned?"
"What do you want him for, Frank?" said his father.
"To try for that big croc that hangs about the river half-way betweenhere and the stockade. He has just taken another poor girl, father."
"What!" cried Mr Braine, with a look of horror.
"I only just heard of it. She was reaching over to pick lotus-leavesclose by, where you were so nearly caught, Ned."
"Eh?" cried Murray, looking up sharply. "Oh yes, I remember, and youare thinking of trying to shoot this monster?"
"No; going to catch him," said Frank.
"You two boys?"
"They will have some of the men to help them," said Mr Braine. "Thebrute ought to be destroyed."
"Why don't your rajah do it?"
"Because he does nothing that does not tend toward his pleasure orprosperity," replied Mr Braine, bitterly. "Have you made anypreparations, Frank?"
"Yes, father; we're all ready. Only waiting for Ned."
He gave the latter a merry look as he spoke.
"Like to go?" said Murray.
"I don't like to leave you so busy, uncle, and seem to neglect preparingthe specimens."
"But that would be getting another specimen," said Frank, merrily. "MrMurray may have it when it's caught, mayn't he, father?"
"You go along with you, sir," cried Murray, with mock sternness. "Youare spoiling my boy here. Be off with you, and mind and don't get intoany danger. Here, you Ned, go and wash your fingers well first. Don'tneglect that after using the paste."
Five minutes after, the two lads were off toward the bank of the rivernear where the rajah's stockade was situated--a strongly-palisaded placecommanding the river, and within which four of the light brass gunsknown as lelahs were mounted. Mere popguns in the eyes of a navalofficer, but big enough, to awe people
who traded up and down the riverin boats, and whose one or two pound balls or handfuls of rough shot andrugged scraps of iron and nails were awkward enemies for the slighttimbers of a good-sized prahu.
"There will not be any danger for the boys, eh?" said Murray, looking upat where Mr Braine stood thoughtfully smoking his cigar.
"Oh no; they will have quite a little party of active men with them,ready to despatch the brute with their spears if they are lucky enoughto catch him; but that is very doubtful."
He relapsed into silence, and Murray went on busily with his work, forhe had had a successful shooting trip on the previous afternoon, and wastrying to make up for it before his specimens decayed, as they didrapidly in that hot climate. He was so intent upon his task as he satat the rough bamboo work-table he had rigged up, that for a time heforgot the presence of his silent visitor, till, looking up suddenly hesaw that Mr Braine was gazing thoughtfully before him in a rapt anddreamy way.
"Anything the matter?" he said.
Mr Braine started, looked at his cigar, which was out, and proceeded torelight it.
"No--yes," he said slowly; "I was thinking."
"What about? No, no. I beg pardon. Like my impudence to ask you."
"No. It is quite right," said Mr Braine, slowly, and with his browknit. "You are one of us now, and in a little knot of English peoplesituated as we are, there ought to be full confidence andgood-fellowship so that we could help each other in distress."
"Yes, of course," said Murray, laying down his work. "But, my dearfellow, don't be so mysterious. You are in trouble. What is wrong?"
Mr Braine walked to the door to see that Hamet was out of hearing, andthen returning, he said in a low voice: "Look here, Murray; it is of nouse to mince matters; we are all prisoners here, at the mercy of asscoundrelly a tyrant as ever had power to make himself a scourge to thedistrict round."
"Well, it is as well to call a spade a spade," said Murray.
"Both Barnes and I were doing badly, and we were tempted by the offerswe received from the rajah, and certainly I must own that, from aworldly point of view, we have both prospered far better here than wecould have done in an English settlement. But we are not free agents.We never know what mine may be sprung upon us, nor how the chief peopleamong the rajah's followers may be affected toward us through pettyjealousies."
"I see--I see," said Murray.
"So far we have got on well. For years and years Barnes, who is veryclever in his profession, has made himself indispensable to the rajah,and has also gained some very good friends by the way in which he hastreated different chiefs and their families in serious illnesses, andfor accidents and wounds. While on my part, though mine is a lesssatisfactory position, I have by firmness and strict justice gained therespect of the rajah's fighting men, whom I have drilled to a fair stateof perfection, and the friendship of the various chiefs by acting likean honourable Englishman, and regardless of my own safety, intercedingfor them when they have offended their master, so that now they alwayscome to me as their counsellor and friend, and I am the only man herewho dares to tell the tyrant he is unjust."
"I see your position exactly," said Murray; "but what is behind allthis. What is wrong?"
"Perhaps nothing--imagination, may be, and I don't know that I shouldhave spoken to you yet, if it had not been for an admission--I shouldsay a remark, made by my son just now."
"I do not understand you. What did he say?"
"That Miss Barnes--Amy--had been devoting herself to the preparation ofsome of the tiny gems of our forests."
"Yes, yes, and very strange behaviour on the part of a young lady too."
"I do not see it," said the Resident, gravely. "She is a very sweet,true-hearted, handsome womanly girl. Let me see: she is past one andtwenty now, and has always displayed a great liking for naturalhistory."
"Yes, of course," said Murray, hurriedly. "The collection ofbutterflies and beetles she showed me is most creditable."
"And it is only natural that, situated as she is, a prisoner in thesewilds, she should be much attracted by the companionship of a gentlemanof similar tastes, and of wide experience and knowledge."
"Oh, nonsense, nonsense!" said Murray, fidgeting. "She has been verypatient and kind of an evening in listening to me, though I am afraid Ihave often bored her terribly with my long-winded twaddle aboutornithology and botany."
"I can vouch for it you have not, and also that you have caused greatdisappointment when you have not come and joined us."
"Oh, fancy, my dear sir," said Murray, tugging at his great brown beard,and colouring like a girl; "your imagination."
"It is her father's, her mother's, the Greigs' and my wife's imaginationtoo; and this experiment of hers--commenced directly after you had beentelling us all how difficult you found it with your big fingers tomanipulate the tiny sun-birds--confirms what we thought."
"My dear sir, what nonsense!" cried Murray, sweeping a bird-skin off thetable in his confusion, as he snatched up his pipe, lit it, and began tosmoke. "I talked like that because I wanted that idle young scamp, Ned,to devote his fingers to the task. I had not the most remote idea thatit would make a young lady commence such an uncongenial pursuit."
"Straws show which way the wind blows."
"Look here, sir," cried Murray, jumping up, and making the bamboo floorcreak as he strode up and down. "I am not such a fool or so blind asnot to comprehend what you mean. Miss Amy Barnes is a very sweet,amiable young lady."
"Far more so than you think," said Mr Braine, warmly. "She is a gooddaughter--a dear girl, whom I love as well as if she were my own child.I shall never forget the way in which she devoted herself to my boy whenhe came out here, still weak, and a perfect skeleton, and it is mytender affection for the girl that makes me speak as I do."
"Then, then--oh, I am very sorry--very sorry indeed," cried Murray. "Iwish to goodness I had never come. It is nonsense, madness, impossible.I am nearly forty--that is over four and thirty. I am a confirmedbachelor, and I would not be so idiotically conceited as to imagine,sir, that the young lady could have even a passing fancy for such adry-as-dust student as myself. I tell you honestly, sir, I have neveronce spoken to the lady but as a gentleman, a slight friend of herfather, would."
"My dear Murray, we have only known you a few weeks, but that has beenlong enough to make us esteem and trust--"
"Exactly; and it is preposterous."
"That means, you could never care for the lady well enough to ask her tobe your wife?"
"Never--certainly--never--impossible--that is--at least--no, no, no,quite impossible. I am a bookworm, a naturalist, and I shall nevermarry."
"I am sorry," said Mr Braine, thoughtfully, "for, to be frank, I ratherthought there was a growing liking on your part for Amy."
"A mistake, sir--a mistake, quite," said Murray, warmly.
"And it would have been a happy circumstance for us now, at this rathertroublesome time."
"Eh? Troublesome? What do you mean? Is anything more the matter?"
"Yes," said Mr Braine, with his brow full of lines. "I may be wrong--we may be wrong. We have dreaded something of the kind might happen,but years have gone on, and we have had no occasion to think anythingserious till now."
"You startle me. What do you mean?" said Murray, excitedly.
"Well, you see the rajah is a Mussulman."
"Yes, of course. Allah, Mahomet, and so on."
"He has several wives."
"Yes, whom he keeps shut up like birds in a cage. Well, what of that?"
"Last night we were all very much disturbed. It was before you camein."
"Ah! Yes, I noticed you were all very quiet. Why was it?"
"The rajah had sent Amy a present. It was a magnificent specimen ofgoldsmith's work--a large bangle of great value."
"Well?"
"Gentlemen, especially eastern gentlemen, do not send such presents asthat to ladies without having some ulterior object in view."
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"What!" roared Murray, in so fierce a tone of voice that Hamet camerunning in.
"Master call?"
"No, no: go away. Nothing.--Here Braine, you horrify me. That oldtyrant dare to--to think--to send her presents--to--oh, it is horrible.The old scoundrel! He to presume to--oh!"
"We may be mistaken. It may be only a compliment."
"Nothing of the sort, sir. He meant an offer of marriage, which is sureto follow, and--oh, the insolent, tyrannical, old scoundrel!"
Mr Braine looked at Murray with a grave smile.
"This indignation's all real?" he said.
"Real? I could go and horsewhip him."
"Then you do care for Amy Barnes, in spite of your short acquaintance,Murray; and I tell you frankly I am very glad, for it may put a stop toa terrible complication, which might have risked all our lives."
Murray's face was scarlet, and he stood looking at his visitor without aword, for in his heart of hearts he owned that he was right, and thatout there, in those wild jungles, he, Johnstone Murray, naturalist, whohad never thought of such a thing before, had found his fate.
"Yes," said Mr Braine again, thoughtfully, "a serious complication,which might have risked all our lives."
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