At the same moment that the doctor was speaking, Ned had caught sight of
something glittering in the sun above the green shrubs that bordered the
bamboo fence, and directly after that there was quite a blaze of yellow
and scarlet colour as a party of Malays reached the gate and entered the
grounds, a little group of swarthy-looking spearmen halting in the path,
while two stately-looking men, with handkerchiefs tied turban fashion
about their heads, came slowly up to the steps. The doctor descended to
meet them, and then ushered them into the verandah where they saluted
the ladies courteously, and then bowed gravely to the strangers, to whom
they were introduced as two of the chief officers of the rajah in the
most formal way; after which, as a brief conversation took place in the
Malay tongue, and gave Ned the opportunity to examine their silken
jackets and gay kilt-like sarongs in which were stuck their krises with
the handles covered by the twisted folds, the doctor turned to Murray.
"These gentlemen," he said, "have been sent by his highness the rajah to
ask why you have come here, and to desire your presence before him."
"Tell them," said Murray, "that I am sorry I cannot speak their tongue;
and that as I am going on at once, I beg the rajah will excuse me from
waiting upon him."
"My dear sir," whispered Mr Braine; but Murray flushed a little, and
went on:
"Tell the rajah, please, that I am an English gentleman, a subject of
Her Majesty Queen Victoria, travelling with my nephew to collect objects
of natural history, and that I shall be obliged if he will give me a
safe conduct to pass through his country unmolested by his people."
An answer to this was made at once by the elder and more grave-looking
of the two Malays, showing that, though he spoke in his own language to
the doctor, he had comprehended every word that had been said.
The doctor listened, and then interpreted again to Murray.
"The Tumongong desires me to say that he is sure his highness will be
glad to further your wishes, but that he dare not go back and deliver
such a message. You will excuse me for saying so, Mr Murray, but you
must obey, and at once."
"And suppose I refuse, sir?" said Murray, warmly. "British gentlemen
are not accustomed to be told that they must."
"No," said the doctor, smiling, "and do not like it; but there are times
when Englishmen and Scotchmen find that they must submit to
circumstances--eh, Braine?--eh, Greig?"
"Oh yes," said the merchant, taking out his snuff-box, opening it, and
offering it to each of the Malay gentlemen, who bowed gravely, and took
a pinch.
"It is not pleasant, I know, sir," said Mr Braine quietly; "but may I,
as a fellow-countryman, offer you a little advice?"
"Of course."
"Then pray go, sir. And, excuse me for saying, it would be uncourteous
not to obey the summons. Vous parlez Francais?" he added quietly.
"Yes, badly."
"Croyez moi: il faut."
Ned noticed a slight twitching of the Tumongong's facial muscles, and an
intent look in his eyes, as if he were trying to understand the last
words, which puzzled him.
"I am at his highness's service," said Murray, abruptly. "Come Ned, you
may as well come too."
The chief officer smiled gravely, and placed himself beside Murray, his
companion following his example, and walking up to Ned. Then they both
bowed politely to the ladies, and signed to the visitors to go toward
the steps.
"You are coming, then?" said Murray, as he saw Mr Braine step forward.
"I? Oh yes. You will want an interpreter," said the gentleman
addressed.
"Excuse me a moment," said Murray, addressing the Malay chief.--"Ladies,
I'll say good-bye once more, and thank you heartily for your kindness to
us."
"You can do that later on," said the doctor, quietly. "If you do go
to-day, of course we shall come and see you off."
"To be sure. Thank you," said Murray smiling.--"Now, gentlemen, I am at
your service. I see that you speak English."
"Understand? yes," said the chief officer; "speak? no."
By this time they were in the garden, the group of swarthy spearmen
standing back in line with military precision, and holding their weapons
at the salute as the party passed them, and then falling in behind to
march after them in a way which showed that they had been carefully
drilled.
"Come, Ned," said Murray, as they passed out of the gate, "don't look so
serious, lad; they are not leading us out to execution."
"Did I look serious, uncle?" said the boy merrily. "I was not thinking
that, but of our clothes."
"Eh, what about them, lad?"
"That they look very rough and shabby beside these grand dresses. We
hardly seem lit to go to court."
"Not our fault, boy. It is a special invitation," replied Murray
merrily.--"We must study up the Malay language so as to be independent,
Mr Braine."
"I should advise you to master it as soon as you can," said that
gentleman, who was now walking beside them as they threaded their way in
and out among the houses, where every now and then they could catch a
glimpse of a pair of eyes watching them, though the people they passed
took not the slightest notice of them, or just glanced, turned their
betel-nut in their mouths, and went on chewing it with their eyes
half-closed, as if the coming of strangers was not of the slightest
importance to them.
"Is it far to the palace?" asked Murray, giving Ned a quaint look.
"Just beyond those houses, and amongst the group of trees you can see
over their roofs," said Mr Braine; and he then turned and spoke to the
officers, who replied to him in Malay.
"His highness is waiting to give you audience," he continued. "Mr
Murray, I do not like to force advice upon a stranger, but I should like
to say, for your own sake and that of your young friend, try to accept
the position in which you find yourself, however hard it may be. And,"
he added in a whisper, looking sharply at Ned, "whatever you see, do not
laugh. Eastern gentlemen are extremely sensitive to ridicule."
"I shall not laugh," said Ned quietly; and then he began thinking about
the punctilious ways of his companions till they had passed the last
houses, entered a patch of forest, and from that came suddenly upon a
clearing where a spacious bamboo house stood half hidden by a clump of
umbrageous trees, beneath one of which was drawn up a group which at the
first glance made the boy wonder whether he was gazing at a scene in
real life, or some imaginary picture from an eastern tale.
The first figure upon which Ned's eyes rested was seated in the centre
of the group, on a quaintly made stool, and his gorgeous dress
immediately suggested that this must be the great man himself whom they
had come to see. For he was evidently got up expressly for the
occasion, with his courtiers carefully arranged about him, some standing
behind and on either side, but for the most part squatted down on the
sandy ground in the position affected by eastern people, though here and
there one could be seen right down cross-legged _a la turque_.
The rajah was the only one in European costume, and at the first glance
at the man, with his heavy fat sensual-looking face and lurid eyes, Ned
recalled his companion's words: "Whatever you see, do not laugh."
He felt at once the value of the advice, as his eye ran over the chief's
costume, for he was gorgeously arrayed in a military tunic and trousers
undoubtedly made in London to order, the tailor having had instructions
to prepare for his highness a dress that would be striking and
impressive, and from this point of view he had done his work well. The
trousers were blue with gold stripes, of the most elaborate floral
pattern, such as decorate levee uniforms; and, after the fashion of our
most gaily-dressed hussars of fifty years ago, there were wonderful
specimens of embroidery part of the way down the front of the thigh.
But the tunic was the dazzling part of the show, for it was of the
regular military scarlet, and was neither that of field-marshal,
dragoon, nor hussar, but a combination of all three, frogged, roped, and
embroidered in gold, and furnished with a magnificent pair of twisted
epaulets. Across the breast was a gorgeous belt, one mass of gold
ornamentation, while the sword-belt and slings were similarly encrusted,
and the sabre and sheath--carefully placed between his legs, so that it
could be seen to the best advantage--was a splendid specimen of the
goldsmiths' and sword-cutlers' art, and would have been greatly admired
in a museum. To complete the effect, the rajah wore an Astrakan busby,
surmounted by a tall scarlet egret-plume, similar to that worn by a
horse-artillery officer of the British army, the cap being corded,
starred, and held in place by a golden chain cheek-strap.
The effect ought to have been most striking, and so it was in one way;
but it was spoiled by the presence of a jetty-black Malay attendant,
dressed in an ordinary dark paletot and military-looking cap, holding
over the rajah's head a white sun umbrella of common cotton, and the
fact patent to any Englishman, that the uniform must have been ordered
without the customary visit to the tailor, the result destroying
everything with the horribly striking truth that it did not fit!
Ned bit his tongue hard, and gazed to right and left at the swarthy
courtiers of the monarch, six of whom were squatted down in the front
row, some in little military caps, others in brilliant kerchiefs tied
turban fashion about their heads, and all wearing brilliant silken
sarongs. These were the rajah's sword-bearers, and each held by the
ornamental sheath a kris or parang of singular workmanship, with the
hilt resting against the right shoulder. The rest of the rajah's people
were picturesquely arranged, and in their native dress looked to a man
far better than their ruler, who was the incongruous spot in the group,
which was impressive enough to an English lad, with its lurid
fierce-looking faces and dark oily eyes peering from the mass of yellow
and scarlet, while everywhere, though with the hilt covered by the folds
of the sarong, could be made out the fact that each man carried at his
waist a deadly-looking kris.
All this was seen at a glance as they advanced, and Ned had thoroughly
crushed down the desire to laugh at the dark potentate, when his uncle
nearly made him explode by whispering: "Make your fortune, Ned. Buy the
whole party for Madame Tussaud's."
He was saved from a horrible breach of court etiquette by the two
officials advancing, bowing low to the rajah, and making a short speech
to his highness, who nodded and scowled while the guard of spearmen
formed up in a row behind, and Mr Braine saluted in military fashion,
and went and stood half behind at the rajah's left elbow, listened to
something the great man said, and then looked at the two visitors.
"His highness bids me say that you are welcome to his court."
"We thank his highness," said Murray, frankly. Then to Ned: "Do as I
do;" and he advanced and held out his hand.
There was a slight movement amongst the sword-bearers and officials, and
a dozen fierce-looking men seemed ready to spring forward at this
display of equality. But the rajah did not resent it; he smiled, rose,
and took the extended hands in turn, making his plume vibrate and his
busby topple forward, so that it dropped right off, and would have
fallen in the dust but for the activity of Ned. He caught it and
returned it to the wearer, who frowned with annoyance as he replaced it
in its proper position.
"Dank you," he said, quite surlily, and he shook hands now. "How der
doo?"
This last word was prolonged with quite a growl.
"Quite well, and glad to pay our compliments to your highness," said
Murray.
The rajah's brow puckered, and he stared heavily, first at his visitors
and then at Mr Braine, for he had reached the end of his English.
That individual came to his rescue, however, and after a few formal
compliments had passed, with the people all listening in stolid silence,
Murray requested through his interpreter permission to pass on through
the rajah's country.
This brought forth a series of questions as to what the visitors would
collect, and answers respecting birds, animals, and plants.
The rajah listened to the answers, and then said something eagerly to
Mr Braine.
"His highness wishes to know if you understand anything about minerals
and metals," said the latter.
"Yes, I have made mineralogy and geology something of a study," replied
Murray; and this being interpreted, the rajah spoke again for some
little time with more animation than might have been expected from so
heavy and dull a man.
"I'm getting tired of this, Ned," whispered Murray.
"Oh, it's worth seeing, uncle. It will be something to talk about when
we get home."
"Yes, boy; but I want nature, not art of this kind."
"Mr Murray," said their interpreter just then, after clearing his voice
with a cough, as if to get rid of something which tickled his throat,
and drawing him and Ned aside, "his highness desires me to say that he,
is very glad to welcome to his court so eminent a naturalist."
"My dear Mr Braine," said Murray, interrupting, "we are
fellow-countrymen. Never mind the flowery part; let's have the plain
English of it all."
"My dear fellow, I am translating almost verbatim. His highness says
that he has long wished to see a gentleman of your attainments, for he
is anxious to have his country explored, so that the valuable metals,
precious stones, and vegetable productions may be discovered. He says
that you are very welcome, and that a house shall be placed at your
disposal, with slaves and guards and elephants for expeditions through
the jungle to the mountains. One of his dragon boats will also be
placed at your service for expeditions up the river, and he wishes you
every success in the discoveries you will make for him."
"For him!" said Murray, looking bewildered; "but I want to make them for
myself, and for the institutions with which I am connected in London."
"Yes; it is very awkward," said Mr Braine.
"Tell him I am highly flattered, but I must go on to-day.--Well, go on:
speak to him."
"I cannot. I dare not."
"Then I will."
"But you can't; you do not know his language."
"Then I'll show him in pantomime."
"My dear sir, pray do nothing rash. I understand this chief and his
people. You are quite strange to their ways. I beg you for your own
sakes to accept the position."
"But it is making prisoners of us, sir. English people are not
accustomed to such treatment. I will not be forced to stay."
"My dear Mr Murray, you are losing your temper," said Mr Braine.
"Just let me, as a man of some experience out here, remind you of what,
in cooler moments, you must know: I mean the necessity for being
diplomatic with eastern people. Now pray look here. I know how
annoying all this is; but on the other hand, you will have facilities
for carrying on your researches such as you could not create for
yourself."
"Yes; but I do not like to be forced."
"I know that. It is most objectionable."
"And I see through him as plainly as can be: he wants me to find out
gold, or tin and precious stones, and other things for his benefit. It
is degrading to a scientific man."
"You are perfectly right; but I must speak plainly. This man has
perfect confidence in his own power, and he rules here like the Czar of
Russia. My dear sir, be guided by me. You have no alternative. You
cannot leave here, and he will have no hesitation whatever in
imprisoning you if you refuse. Come, accept his proposal with a good
grace, for your own and your nephew's sake--I may add for the sake of
the follow country-folk you have met here to-day."
"But my good sir," said Murray angrily, "this idea of forcing me makes
me the more indignant and obstinate."
"Yes; but forget all that in the cause of science."
Murray smiled.
"You are a clever diplomat, Mr Braine," he said. "Well I give way,
for, as you say, there is no alternative."
"That's right," said Mr Braine eagerly, "and I hope you will not regret
it. There, the rajah is growing impatient. He must not think you have
spoken like this. I shall tell him that you have been stipulating for
abundance of help."
"I do stipulate for that."
"And freedom to pursue your investigations in every direction."
"Yes; I stipulate for that too."
For some time past the rajah had been frowning, and loosening his sabre
in its scabbard and clapping it down again, while Ned noticed that, as
if anticipating an unpleasant reminder of their master's anger, the
people right and left squatted and stood like statues, gazing straight
before them. But when Mr Braine left the two strangers, and went back
to the fierce-looking chief and made a long communication, which he had
dressed up so as to gloss over the long consultation and Murray's
defiant manner, the rajah's face lit up, and showed his satisfaction,
the courtiers and attendants relaxed, and began to chew their betel.
Ned even thought he heard a faint sigh of relief rise from the group, as
Mr Braine bowed and returned to where the newcomers were standing.
"You have acted very wisely, Mr Murray," he said. "Come now, his
highness wishes to speak to you."
Murray could hardly crush down the feeling of resentment which troubled
him, but he walked up with Ned quietly enough, and stood waiting and
trying to attach a meaning to the words which the rajah said, feeling
how valuable some knowledge of the language would be, and hardly hearing
Mr Braine's interpretation.
"His highness bids me say that he will be most happy to meet your wishes
with respect to accommodation, and freedom to explore."
The rajah spoke again.
"And that boats, elephants, and men to clear a path through the jungle,
are to be at your service."
There was another speech in Malay, which Mr Braine did not interpret,
apparently for the reason that the rajah now rose from his stool, and
took a step forward to tap both Murray and Ned on the shoulder, standing
looking from one to the other, and rolling his great quid of betel-nut
in his cheeks as he tried to recall something he wanted to say.
At last a smile came upon his heavy features.
"Goooood--boyahs," he said thickly. Then, drawing himself up, he stood
fast, holding the scabbard of his sword in his left hand, threw his
right over and grasped the hilt, and then in strict military fashion
evidently, as he had been drilled by an instructor, he drew his sword,
saluted, replaced the blade, faced to the right, marched a dozen paces;
faced to the right again, and marched toward his bamboo and palm palace,
the loose fit of his tunic and the bagginess of his trousers showing off
to the worst advantage, till he was covered by his followers, who also
marched after him mechanically, sword-bearers, men carrying a golden
betel-box and golden spittoon, courtiers, and spearmen. At last all
were either in or close up to the house, only the two Malay chiefs, who
had fetched the strangers from the doctor's bungalow, remaining behind.
These two came up to them smiling in the most friendly way, just as
Murray said: "What about our boat and the men?"
"Oh, they will be all right," replied Mr Braine.
"But the men? Am I to send them back?"
"No; his highness desires that they stay."
Just then the chief who had been spoken of as the Tumongong--a kind of
chief counsellor--made some remark to Mr Braine, who nodded.
"These gentlemen," he said, "wish me to say that they hope we shall all
be very good friends, and that they will see the rajah's wishes carried
out as to your comfort."
"And our guns and things in the boat?"
The Tumongong spoke at once.
"You are not to make yourself uneasy. Everything will be right."
Then profound salaams were exchanged, and the Malays went toward the
rajah's house, while the Englishmen took the way that led to the
doctor's.
"I am beaten, Mr Braine," said Murray, rather bitterly. "I said I
would go."
"You have acted very wisely, sir."
"Humph! Well, perhaps so," said Murray, rather gruffly. "Here we are
then, Ned: prisoners in the cause of science we'll call it.--But it
seems to me, Mr Braine, that if we do not mind our P's and Q's, we
shall be prisoners indeed."
Mr Braine made no reply, but his looks seemed to endorse the other's
words.