When Ned Murray opened his eyes again, it was to gaze at the faint dawn
which was making its way into the larger room; and he lay puzzled and
wondering for a few minutes before he could quite make out where he was.
Then it all came like a flash, and he looked across the room to dimly
make out the figure of his uncle fast asleep.
Ned lay thinking for a few moments and then rose softly, ready dressed
as he was, and stole out, with the bamboo flooring creaking beneath his
feet.
At the top of the steps he found Hamet, and after a few words spoken in
a whisper, Ned said: "I don't suppose uncle will wake yet, but if he
does, say I'm gone down to look at the river."
The Malay nodded, and showed his white teeth, and Ned stepped quietly
down, looking sharply round to have hard work to restrain a start, as he
caught sight of four swarthy sentries standing spear in hand. But he
ignored their presence, and walked slowly along, but only to be aware of
the fact directly, that two of them were following quietly in his steps,
and looking, as he glanced back once, with his hands in his pockets and
whistling softly, singularly ghostly and strange.
For there was a heavy mist floating softly in the morning air, and as
the boy slowly made his way among the houses, there was a feeling of
chilliness that, in combination with the novelty of his position, made
him shiver.
His intention was to have a look round the place; and, after a glance at
the doctor's house with its charming garden, he walked first in one
direction and then in another, conscious of the fact that his two guards
were always a short distance behind, but apparently bound on quite a
different mission, for they never seemed to look at him once.
Suddenly he altered his mind, and turned back to have a look at the
rajah's own place, and in doing this he had to pass pretty close to the
swarthy-looking spearmen, who merely drew back between two houses till
he had passed, and followed as before.
"Two for uncle and two for me," said Ned at last. "Well, I never knew
that I had two shadows before."
The light was getting a little clearer above the mist, which did not
seem to rise above the tops of the cocoa-nut trees, and he had nearly
reached the clump, in the midst of which was the clearing, when he
suddenly noticed a dimly-seen figure glide out from among the trees, and
another, and another--three who barred his farther advance.
"He has his guards too," thought Ned, and he turned back with the
intention of going as far as the jetty, and then returning to see if his
uncle was awake, when there was a sharp _clank_-_clink_ away to his
left.
The sound was familiar, but he could not recall what it was, though it
came nearer and nearer, apparently from down a lane of houses.
Then, all at once, he knew. For from out of the mist came the dark
figures of half a dozen men bearing spears, and directly after, between
two more, the prisoner he had seen brought in the previous day; and as
he caught a glimpse of the dark face, he could see that the man was
slowly chewing away at his betel-nut.
Six more spearmen followed, apparently led by an officer who marched
erect behind the heavily-fettered prisoner, with one hand resting upon
the handle of his kris.
No one heeded the boy, and the party marched on toward the river-side,
when, under the impression that the man was being taken down to embark
once more, and be sent up or down the river, Ned followed, and his guard
came now more closely behind.
To Ned's surprise, the leaders of the party turned off a little to the
right, leaving the jetty on their left, and with it the smaller boats,
but they were evidently making still for the river, and halted upon its
bank, just in front of where, half hidden by the mist, the large prahu
swung at her anchorage.
"They are going to hail a boat from the prahu and keep him imprisoned
there," thought Ned; and as he fancied this, he began to consider how
safe a place it would be for a man, so heavily chained that any attempt
at escape by swimming must mean being borne down by the weight of his
fetters.
He walked close up, meaning to see the prisoner put on board the boat,
but no one attempted to hail the prahu, and as Ned drew aside, he saw
that the prisoner was led close to the edge of the swift river, which
now began to look as if it were so much liquid opal, for bright hues of
orange and purple began to gleam through the wreathing mist, and the
plume-like dripping tops of the various kinds of palms stood out clearer
in the coming light.
"They are going to take off his chains first," thought the boy, as he
drew nearer still, no one paying the slightest heed to his presence; and
he had a full view of the man as the spear-bearers drew up in two lines
whose ends rested on the river, leaving their officers standing by the
prisoner, and undoing his bonds.
Ned was not half a dozen yards away, and a feeling of satisfaction
pervaded him as he saw the wrists set free, and heard the chain clank as
it was thrown on the ground.
The fetters from the man's ankles followed next, and fell to the ground,
while Ned could not help wondering at the stolid aspect of the prisoner,
who displayed not the slightest satisfaction at being freed from so
painful and degrading a load.
What followed was so quick that Ned had hardly time to realise what it
meant, for the officer signed to the prisoner to kneel down, and he
sullenly obeyed, while his lower jaw was working in a mechanical fashion
as he kept on grinding his betel-nut. The sun was evidently now well
above the horizon, for the gray mist was shot with wondrous hues, and
the palm-leaves high overhead were turned to gold. There were sweet
musical notes from the jungle mingled with the harsher cries and shrieks
of parrots, and with a peculiar rushing noise a great hornbill flapped
its heavy wings, as it flew rapidly across the river. In short, it was
the beginning of a glorious tropic day for all there but one, who knelt
sullen and hopeless, only a few yards from Ned, who stood spell-bound,
now that he realised what was to happen, too much fascinated by the
horrible scene to turn and flee.
For, as the man knelt there with the guard of spearmen on either side,
one Malay, who seemed to be an officer, but whom Ned realised to be the
rajah's executioner, took out a little handful of cotton wool from the
folds of his sarong, tore open the loose baju or cotton jacket his
victim wore, so as to lay bare the bronze skin upon his shoulder, and
placed the wool over it like a loose pad just within the collar-bone.
"Is he going to set fire to it and brand him?" thought Ned; but the next
moment he drew in his breath with a hiss, as if he suffered pain, for
the executioner whipped out, from its wooden sheath at his waist, a
short kris with a curved handle and a dull thin steel blade. This he
held with his left hand perpendicularly, with the point resting in the
centre of the cotton wool, and in the momentary pause which followed,
Ned saw that the culprit was gazing straight at him in a dull heavy way,
and that his lips were moving as he still ground the betel-nut between
his teeth.
It was but a momentary pause, and then, quick as lightning, the
executioner brought his right hand with a smart blow upon the curved
hilt of the kris, driving it perpendicularly into the victim's chest,
transfixing his heart, and as rapidly drew it forth, while the prisoner
fell back, without struggle or groan, splash into the river, where Ned
saw him rolled over by the rapid current dimly-seen there, for the mist
was heavy on the surface; but visible till there seemed to be a rush in
the water, the dead man was snatched under, and the mist slowly rolled
away, to leave the surface glittering in the morning sunshine, and
taking a glorious tint of blue from the clear morning sky.
Ned saw all this vividly, and then a mist gathered over everything
again, as he tottered rather than walked a few yards to where he could
throw one arm round a tall slim cocoa-nut tree, and hold on, for he felt
sick, and he knew that the mist now was only in his eyes.
But he saw the spearmen form up with military precision before and
behind the executioner, as he calmly thrust his little kris back in the
waist-folds of his sarong, and then the party marched off with their
spears glittering in the morning sun, and from somewhere in the jungle a
wild-fowl uttered his sharp short crow.
"Am I going to faint?" thought Ned; and then he started and turned
sharply round, for a voice said quickly: "Ah, my lad! You there?"
Ned saw that it was Mr Braine standing before him, looking at him
frowningly, and with an air of disgust.
"Yes; I came for a walk," stammered Ned, huskily.
"And you saw that?"
"Yes," cried Ned, with a passionate cry, as his blood, which had seemed
chilled and to flow sluggishly through his veins, now throbbed in his
temples. "I could not stop them. I did not know. They have just
murdered a man. He fell into the river, and--and--oh, it is too
horrible!"
"It was not a murder. It was an execution by the rajah's command," said
Mr Braine, coldly. "You ought not to have come."
"I didn't know, sir. I could not tell. I thought--I don't know--I
never imagined--"
"I beg your pardon, my lad," said Mr Braine, kindly. "I thought you
were attracted by a morbid desire to witness the horrible."
"Oh no!" said Ned with a shudder. "I should have been too great a
coward if I had known. But has this man the right to do such things?"
"The rajah!" said Mr Braine, shrugging his shoulders; "he is king here
in his own country. He has his tiny army and navy, and he has conquered
the three petty chiefs nearest to his domain."
"But the English--the Queen," said Ned. "It seems terrible that a man
like this should have such power. Will not government interfere?"
"No. How could it? But there, come with me, and try to forget what you
have been seeing."
"But one moment, sir. Couldn't you have interfered to save the man's
life? Did you know he was to be mur--"
"Executed, my boy. Yes, and I appealed to the rajah for mercy; but he
gave me so terrible an account of the man's life that I was silenced at
once. Come, you have plenty of time before breakfast. I want you to
see my home."
Ned shivered a little as he gave a glance round at the scene, which
looked so beautiful, that it seemed impossible that so great a horror
could have taken place there. Then he followed the Resident, and awoke
to the fact that they were alone.
"Where are the men who were following me," he said, and Mr Braine
smiled.
"Gone back to their quarters, I suppose," he said. "They consider you
are in my charge now."
Ned gave him a curious look, which his companion interpreted directly.
"Very well," he said, laughing; "think so if you like. I suppose I am
your guard. Ah, here are your two friends," for the Tumongong and the
other officer came up hurriedly, and made a communication to the last
speaker.
"I must put you off, Murray," he said, turning quickly to the boy. "The
rajah is taken ill. You can wander about the place a bit; I daresay I
shall be back soon."
He went off with the two Malay officers, and Ned hesitated for a few
moments as to which direction he should take, and ending by making for
the river higher up the stream, so as to get right away from the spot
that he could not recall without a shudder. This part, too, looked
particularly attractive with its groups of palms and large forest trees,
some of which overhung the stream, one being covered with white flowers
to its very summit.
It was all very beautiful as he neared it, and he began thinking of how
delighted his uncle would be with the orchids and other parasitical
plants which cling to the boughs; but all at once, as he was looking
round, he caught sight of one of his guards, and directly after of the
other, for, as if by magic, they had reappeared, and the sensation of
being watched again, coming upon the recollections of the morning
adventure, seemed quite to rob the place of its beauty.
"I may as well go back," he thought to himself, after wandering for a
short distance among the trees, and stopping at last to lay his hand
upon a branch which overhung the river, so that he could lean out and
gaze down into the dark clear water, with some vague idea of seeing
whether there were any fish.
He could see none, but it was very attractive to gaze down into that
dark clear water with its patches of floating lotus-leaves, from among
which rose the bright blue waterlily-like flowers. They seemed likely
places for fish, and for a few minutes the grim horrors of the morning
passed away, and he began to think of what a capital place that would be
for carp-fishing, if it were an English river at home, and to wonder
what kind of fish there would be there. For that there were fish he
felt convinced, from a slight swirling movement he had seen, and the
shaking of the stems and leaves once or twice, as if something were
moving somewhere below.
That smooth shadowy pool in the river was very beautiful, and the sun
streamed down through the leaves like a silver shower, as Ned still
thought of the fishing, and this brought up the recollection of the boy
he had seen on the river and at his return at night.
"Perhaps he's the rajah's son," thought Ned. "No," he continued
inconsequently, "he couldn't be, because the rajah has lots of wives,
and of course he would have plenty of sons. I know," he thought, after
a pause; "he must be the Tumongong's boy. He did look something like
him. I shouldn't wonder if its--"
Ned's thoughts seemed at that moment to have been cut off short, or, to
use a railway phrase, shunted off on to another track--that is, from
fancies about the Tumongong's son to the fishy inhabitants of the river.
For once more he noticed that about twenty feet from the overhanging
bank, formed of twisted roots, on which he stood, one of the largest
beds of floating lotus-leaves was being agitated by what must certainly
be quite a large fish forcing its way toward him, till he could see its
long brown back just beneath the surface, and gliding very slowly
nearer.
It was impossible to make out what it was for the leaves, two or three
of which were pushed up, and sank down again while others were forced
aside.
It was quite fascinating to watch it, and Ned was longing for some fine
tackle, when there was a sudden rustling in the boughs overhead, and a
dark animal that he could not clearly distinguish began leaping and
bounding about, chattering, shrieking, and making other strange noises,
as it shook the boughs and ran out on one over the water, to hang down
by one hand and a foot, chattering and showing its teeth menacingly at
the big fish which was still slowly gliding nearer to the bank.
There was no mistaking what the animal was now, and wondering at its
comparative tameness, Ned's attention was now diverted to what was the
finest and most active monkey he had ever seen.
"I didn't know monkeys liked fishing," he was saying to himself, when
the movement in the water increased, the animal in the tree swung itself
nearer, and there was a rush and splash just as the spectator felt a
violent shock as if some one had seized him from behind, and losing his
balance he fell backward, and then in alarm rolled over twice away from
the river, and struggled up to his knees, just as a figure rushed at him
again and dragged him farther away.