The two lads had grown in an hour as intimate as if they had been
friends for months, and they were chatting away together as they
approached Murray's house, where Hamet was standing looking out.
"Hah!" he cried; "you are here. The master has been looking for you,
and is gone again."
"Here he comes!" cried Ned's new companion, taking off and waving his
cap as Murray came striding up, looked strangely at the Resident's son,
and then turned to his nephew.
"I was getting anxious about you," he said. "Keep by me, my boy. Come
along to breakfast. We are going up the river directly after. Mr
Braine has been to say we are to go on with our work at once, and land
and examine some hills about ten miles up."
"I know," said Ned's companion, "Gunong Bu."
Murray turned upon him sharply, but the lad was in nowise abashed.
"I'll go with you, and show you. I know the way through the jungle.
There's an old path. I've been--"
"Thank you," said Murray, coldly. "Come, my boy, the breakfast has all
been sent on by the rajah."
"I knew he would send," said their visitor. "You keep friends with him,
and you'll see how civil he can be."
Murray frowned a little; and, amused by his uncle being deceived as he
had himself been, Ned said quietly, "he has come to breakfast with us,
uncle."
"It is very kind of him," said Murray, coldly; "but he might have waited
till he was asked."
"And then you wouldn't have asked me. I say, you; he thinks like you
did, that I'm a nigger."
"Well," said Murray, quickly, "are you not a Malay, in spite of your
perfect English?"
"Of course not, sir; I'm Frank Braine."
"My dear sir, I beg your pardon," cried Murray. "You should have told
me, Ned. Come in, my lads, I'm getting sharp-set;" and directly after,
they were seated, eastern fashion, cross-legged on the mat, which was
spread with Malay luxuries, prominent among which was some excellent
coffee, and a hearty meal was made, with the Resident's son as much at
home as if he had been a very old friend; and hardly was it ended, when
Mr Braine appeared.
"Ah, Frank," he said, smiling; "not long making yourself at home, I see.
The boat's ready, Mr Murray," he continued, "and plenty of provisions
on board. I daresay you will get some new birds and insects on your
way, and the rajah hopes you will make some discovery up in the hills."
"He seems reasonable," said Murray, laughing. "What would he like
first--a gold-mine?"
"Oh, you must humour him, and then you will have plenty of opportunity
for your own work. Will you want an interpreter beside your own man?"
"No," said Frank, quietly. "I'm going with them, father."
"You, my boy? Oh, very well, only try not to be rash; though I don't
suppose you will have any adventures. You know, I suppose, that we have
tiger and elephant about here, so take a rifle in case you meet big
game."
The men were waiting below, and they were soon after despatched with
Hamet to carry guns, ammunition, and the other impedimenta of a
naturalist who is an enthusiastic collector. The gentlemen followed
soon after, Mr Braine seeing them down to the boat, which proved to be
a handsome naga, fully manned. The crew were well-armed, and as Ned
glanced at their faces he, little observant as he was in such matters,
could note that they were a strong, fierce-looking, determined party,
who would stand at nothing their leader set them to do.
There was a friendly wave of the hand, followed by that of a couple of
pocket handkerchiefs, as the boat swung out into the stream and began
rapidly to ascend, for the doctor and his ladies had just strolled down
to the bamboo jetty, but too late to see the party off.
"I say, don't do that," cried Frank, quickly, as Ned hung one arm over
the side of the boat, and let the cool water run through his fingers.
"Of course not. I forgot Hamet did tell me."
"There's a chap at the next place with only one arm. He was hanging
over the side of a boat holding his line with his hand, and a croc
snapped it right off."
"Is that a traveller's tale, squire?" said Murray, drily.
"No, it isn't," said the boy, frowning. "You don't believe it? Ask him
there if a croc didn't nearly seize him this morning."
"What!" cried Murray.
"Yes, uncle," said Ned. "It was so, and Frank Braine snatched me away
just in time."
"Oh, get out! I only pushed you out of his way. They are nasty
beggars."
He turned to the Malay guard and said a few words, to which a chorus
which sounded like assent came at once.
"They say you have to be very careful, for the crocs kill a good many
people every year."
"Then we will be very careful," said Murray; "and I beg your pardon for
doubting you."
"Oh, that don't matter."
"And let me thank you for helping Ned here this morning."
"That's nothing," cried Frank, hastily. "Hi! Abdul!" he shouted to one
of the rowers; and he hurried from beneath, the mat awning overhead,
amongst the crew to the man in the bows, evidently to avoid listening to
further thanks, and sat down to go on talking to the Malay, whose heavy
stolid face lit up as he listened.
"So you had quite an adventure?" said Murray.
"Yes, uncle," replied Ned; and he then went on to tell of the horrible
scene he had witnessed.
Murray listened with his brows knit, and then after sitting thoughtful
and silent for some minutes: "Mr Braine and the doctor have not
exaggerated the situation, Ned," he said. "Well, my lad, we must make
the best of it. I daresay we can spend a month here advantageously, but
we must be careful not to upset the rajah, for, though he can be a
capital friend, and send us out collecting in this royal way, it is
evident that he can prove a very dangerous enemy. You see he is a man
who has the power of life and death in his hands, and does not hesitate
about using it. We are beyond help from the settlement, and
unmistakably his prisoners."
"Well, I don't mind being a prisoner, uncle, if he is going to treat us
like this."
"Good, lad. I'll take a leaf out of your book, and make the best of
things. This is quite new ground for a naturalist, so let's set aside
all worry about where we are, and think only of the wonderful objects
about us."
Ned was already following out that plan, and wishing his uncle would not
worry about other things, for they were riding at a pretty good rate up
the clear sparkling river, and passing scene after scene of tropic
loveliness that excited a constant desire in the boy to go ashore and
roam amongst grand trees of the loveliest tints of green, all different
from anything he had seen before.
Just then Frank came back.
"Got your shooting tackle ready?" he said.
"No, but I was thinking it was time," replied Murray, "and that we might
as well land directly we see a bird or two. I want to get all the
specimens I can."
"Land!" said Frank, with a merry laugh; "land here?"
"Yes; not to go any distance. Just for a ramble, and then return to the
boat."
"But you couldn't, nor yet for miles farther on."
"Why? The country on either bank looks lovely."
"The trees do, but that's all jungle."
"Well, I see that," said Murray, rather impatiently.
"But you don't know what our jungle is, sir. You couldn't get a dozen
yards any way."
"The trees are not so thick as that."
"No, but the undergrowth is, and it's all laced together, and bound with
prickly canes, so that at every step you must have men to go before you
with their parangs to chop and clear the way."
"Is a parang a chopper?"
"They chop with it," replied Frank. "It's the sword thing the men carry
to cut down the wild vines and canes with."
"Do you mean to say we couldn't get through there?" said Ned.
"Yes, of course I do. Like to try? I did when I first came. Why, in
five minutes you'd be horribly scratched, and your clothes torn half off
your back, and you so hot you couldn't bear yourself."
_Cock-a-doodle-do_!
It was a peculiar broken spasmodic crow from some little distance in the
jungle, and Ned turned upon the Resident's son, laughingly: "Why, there
must be a road there to that farm or cottage and back."
There was an answering crow from farther away.
"Is there a village close by?" asked Murray.
"If there was a village, it would be here," said Frank, showing his
white teeth. "This is the high-road of the country, and the villages
are all on the rivers."
"But there must be people who keep fowls in there."
"Yes," said Frank, merrily; "Mother Nature does. Those are jungle cocks
crowing. I say, look out. Don't you want one of those?"
He pointed to where a lovely bluish bird, with a long tail ending in
oval disks like tiny tennis racquets, was seated some distance ahead
upon a bare branch; but almost as he spoke the bird took flight, and
went right on, up the river like a flash of blue light.
"Never mind; you'll have plenty more chances, and you'll soon know as
much about the place as I do."
The guns were brought out of their woollen bags and charged, and the
boat glided on, steered closer in to one bank now, so as to give the
naturalist a better chance of a shot; with the result that he brought
down in the course of the next two hours, as they followed the winding
course of the river, shut in on both sides by the tall flower-decked
trees, two brilliant racquet-tailed kingfishers, a pink-breasted dove,
and a tiny sunbird, decked in feathers that seemed to have been bronzed
and burnished with metallic tints of ruby, purple, and gold.
These were carefully picked up from the water in which they fell, laid
in the sun to dry their feathers, and then put aside for preparation
that evening. After this specimens were seen of gorgeously painted
butterflies, one being evidently seven or eight inches across, but
capture was out of the question, and Ned watched them longingly as they
flitted across the stream.
"I can take you where you can catch them," said Frank; "along by the
edge of the jungle where the rice-fields are; only the worst of
butterfly catching there is, that a tiger may fly out and butter you, as
they do the men sometimes who are at work over the rice."
"Not a pleasant way of butterfly hunting, I must say," said Murray, who,
gun in hand, was watching the edge of the jungle. "What's the matter?"
For the men had suddenly ceased rowing, and the naga glided slowly on,
diminishing in speed till it was stationary, and then, yielding to the
influence of the stream, began to glide back.
Meanwhile an excited conversation was going on between the principal
boatman and Frank Braine, the former pointing up into a huge tree whose
boughs overhung the river, their tips almost touching the surface, and
naturally both Murray and Ned gazed up too.
"What is it--a monkey or a bird?" said Ned, eagerly.
"Yes, I see it now," said Frank. Then, telling the men in Malay to keep
the boat stationary, he turned to Murray: "Here's a shot for you, sir.
I couldn't see it at first. Their eyes are sharper than ours. Wait a
minute till the boat's right. That's it. Stop now, both of you look
right in through that opening among the leaves, and you'll see it on a
branch."
"What, some handsome bird?"
"No; something that's been up there after the birds or monkeys. Do you
see? Look where I'm pointing."
"I am looking there," said Ned, eagerly; "but I can only see a great
creeper all curled about and twisted in knots where it looks quite
dark."
"Well, that's it," said Frank, laughing; "that great creeper. See it,
Mr Murray?"
"Yes, I see it now. Wait till I change the cartridge for bigger shot."
"Yes; use your biggest for him," whispered Frank; and Ned looked on
wonderingly, refraining from asking questions, for he was met by an
imperious "Hush!"
"I can't see what he means, I suppose," thought Ned; and he watched
eagerly now as Murray suddenly took aim and fired.
Then for a few moments there was a violent rustling and breaking of
twigs, and something heavy fell with a great splash beyond the screen of
leaves formed by the lowermost drooping branches.
"You hit him!" cried Frank, excitedly, and he gave an order to the men,
who rowed in under the drooping boughs.
"Now quick, the other barrel!" cried the lad. "See him? Too late.
He's gone!"
"I couldn't get a good sight of him," said Murray.
"But what was it?"
"A great serpent. He glided out of the river in amongst those bushes."
"Could we follow if the boat were rowed right in?"
Frank shook his head.
"Impossible," he said; and the boat was pulled out and began once more
to ascend the stream.
"How big was it?" said Ned, as the incident was discussed.
"Impossible to say," replied Murray; "but I should say fifteen or
sixteen feet long, and as large round as your leg."
Another hour's steady pulling up against the stream brought them to
quite a change in the character of the river-banks. One side had the
jungle as before, but on the other the forest receded more and more,
till they gazed across a park-like plain dotted with clumps of huge
trees, and rising more and more till a range of hills towered up looking
wonderfully beautiful, wooded as they were to the summit.
This meant a tramp, and the boat was run up beneath some trees, to one
of which it was moored, while two of the guard busied themselves in
spreading refreshments beneath the awning in a business-like way, which
suggested that they had been used to such tasks before.
"Rather hot for a long walk," said Frank, when the meal was finished;
"but I don't mind, if you don't."
Murray smiled with the calm contempt for heat usually displayed by an
Englishman, took his gun and stepped ashore, followed by the boys, to
find that half a dozen men armed with spears followed them, one stepping
forward to act as guide, but after a few words from Frank, going back to
his place with the rest.
"Now then," he said, "what's it to be--birds or beasts?"
"Birds to-day," replied Murray.
"There you go then--a big one," cried the lad, as with a rushing, heavy
beating sound of its wings, a great bird flow directly over their heads,
uttering a hoarse cry, and with its huge curved bill bearing a curious,
nearly square, excrescence on the top, plainly seen as the bird
approached.
"Why didn't you shoot?" cried Frank, as the bird went off unscathed.
"Why, I believe, I could have hit that."
"For the simple reason that I did not want to encumber myself with a
bird I have had before."
"Oh, I see. There are lots of those about here, and I've found their
nests."
"What sort of a nest is it?" asked Ned. "Anything like a magpie's?"
"No!" cried Frank; "not a bit. Big as they are, they build like a
tomtit does, right in a hollow tree, but the one I saw had only laid one
egg, and a tomtit lays lots. It was in the trunk of a great worm-eaten
tree, and the hen bird was shut in, for the cock had filled the
entrance-hole with clay, all but a bit big enough for the hen to put out
her beak to be fed. What's that?"
Murray had fired and brought down a gaily-feathered bird, green,
scarlet, and orange, and with a sharp wedge-shaped beak fringed with
sharp bristles.
"A barbet," said Murray, giving the bird to one of the men to carry;
"but like your hornbill, too common to be worth preserving."
Other birds fell to Murray's gun as they went on. A trogon was the
next, a thickly-feathered soft-looking bird, yoke-toed like a cuckoo,
and bearing great resemblance in shape to the nightjar of the English
woods, but wonderfully different in plumage; for, whereas the latter is
of a soft blending of greys and browns, like the wings of some woodland
moths, this trogon's back was of a cinnamon brown, and its breast of a
light rosy-scarlet blending off into white crossed with fine
dark-pencilled stripes.
The next was rather a common bird, though none the less beautiful in its
claret-coloured plumage; but the striking part of the bird was its
gaily-coloured beak of orange and vivid blue.
The tramp in the broiling sunshine was so full of interest now, that Ned
forgot the labour, and eagerly kept pace with his uncle, the Malays
following closely behind, and carrying the specimens willingly enough,
but with their swarthy faces wearing rather a contemptuous look for the
man who, in preference to a quiet siesta beneath a tree, chose to tramp
on beneath the burning sun for the sake of a few uneatable birds.
"I say," cried Frank, "I'll tell you of a bird you ought to shoot.
Hist--hist!"
He made energetic signs to them to lie down among the low bushes through
which they were passing.
He was obeyed at once, and most quickly by the Malays, who crouched
down, spear in hand, like an ambush in waiting for something far more
important than the two birds of which the lad had caught sight in a
narrow glade of a park-like patch of trees they were approaching, but
which now remained invisible.
"Well," said Murray, after waiting patiently for some few minutes with
his gun cocked, "what did you see?"
"Two birds you ought to have shot," the lad whispered back, "but they
must have seen us. No; look. Go on first; creep to those bushes."
He pointed to the edge of the clump, from out of which came slowly, with
stately movement, a couple of long-necked birds, one of which carried
behind him an enormous train of feathers which flashed in the brilliant
sunshine.
Murray needed no second hint, but crept carefully forward, taking
advantage of every bush and tree which afforded him shelter, while the
rest remained in concealment eagerly awaiting the result; even the
Malays looking excited, with their soft dark eyes glowing and their
heads craned forward.
Murray soon reduced the distance between him and the birds--quite a
quarter of a mile--and it seemed as if he would easily stalk them; but
while he was a full hundred yards away, something seemed to have
startled the game, which rose at once and made for the open, yet just in
the midst of the disappointment felt at the waste of energy over the
stalk, they curved round so as to make for the shelter of the trees,
passing between the watchers and Murray.
"Never mind," said Frank, "he'll have another chance." Bang! following
upon a puff of smoke, and the bird with the long train stopped in its
flight, shot up a few yards, and then fell motionless.
Ned uttered a cheer, and the whole party hurried forward, to reach the
prize some time after Murray, who had reloaded and was carefully
smoothing the bird's plumage.
"A long shot, Ned," he said. "That must have been fully eighty yards.
It was the large shot did it. There, you never saw a peacock like
that."
"Yes," cried Ned, "often."
"No, my lad; look again."
"Well, it is a little different. The neck's green."
"Yes, instead of blue. That's the Javanese peacock, and a splendid
specimen. We'll hang this up till our return. Anything likely to touch
it if we hang it on a branch?"
"No, I think not, sir," replied Frank; and after the bird had been
carefully suspended fully six feet from the ground, the party walked on,
to find that the ground was beginning to rise steadily, an indication of
their nearing the hills.
"So that's the bird you wanted me to find, was it?" said Murray, after a
long silent tramp, for the bush had grown rather dense.
"Oh no. The birds I mean only come out of a night. I've only seen two
since I've been here, but you can hear them often in the jungle."
"Owls?"
"Oh no; pheasants, father says they are. Birds with tremendously long
tails, and wings all over great spots like a peacock's, only brown."
"Argus pheasants," said Murray, quietly. "Yes, I must try and get some
specimens of them."
The ground began to rise more rapidly now, till it was quite a climb
through open forest, very different to the dense jungle by the
river-side. The ground, too, had become stony, with great gray masses
projecting here and there, and still they rose higher and higher, till,
hot and breathless, they stopped in a narrow gorge to look back at the
narrow plain they had crossed, just beyond which, and fringed on the far
side by the dark jungle, they could see the river winding along like a
ribbon of silver.
There were several umbrageous trees here, and the air was so fresh and
comparatively cool that it was decided to halt now for an hour to rest.
Then, after a good look round had been taken, Murray suggested that they
should return by another route to where the peacock had been hung, after
which they could go direct to the boat.
The Malays lay down and began preparing fresh pieces of betel-nut to
chew; but Murray's rest was short, and jumping up again, he took a
geological hammer from his belt, and began to crack and chip the stones
and masses of rock which peered from the barren-looking ground, the two
boys, one of whom carried the gun, watching him intently.
"Plenty of quartz, Ned," said Murray. "Quite possible that one might
find gold here."
As he spoke, he broke a piece of gray stone which he had hooked out from
among the grass, and laid in a convenient place. A quick ejaculation
came from his lips, and Frank cried excitedly, "Why, you haven't found
gold?"
"No, my lad, but I have found a valuable metal. Look!"
He handed the broken halves of the stone to the boys, while the Malays
crouched together, chewed away at their betel, and watched them.
"Well," said Ned, "I don't see any valuable metal. Do you?"
Frank shook his head.
"That is a fairly rich piece of ore too," said Murray. "Don't you see
those little black grains running through the quartz?"
"No. These are all standing still," said Frank, laughing.
"Facetious, eh?" said Murray, smiling. "Well, those black grains are
tin."
"Oh, they do get tin somewhere up the river," said Frank, eagerly; "but
it isn't a bit like this."
"But it is like what this would be if it were smelted, young gentleman,"
cried Murray; "and, judging from appearances, I should say that the
rajah could get tin enough in these hills to make him as wealthy as he
likes."
"He ought to be satisfied, then, with what you have done, uncle," said
Ned.
"But he will not be, my boy. He will not care to set up works, and
he'll want us to try again for something better. There, we'll take our
specimens to show to Mr Braine, and start back now. Give me the gun,
and I'll go in the centre, and you two shall walk on either side of me,
say fifty yards or so distant. You may beat up some specimens, and give
me a better chance. Ask the men to keep about a hundred yards behind
us."
Frank went and spoke to the men, and told them what was about to be
done, and they rose, took their spears and waited while the boys started
off to right and left, Murray waiting till they had guessed their
distances, and then at his signal, a low whistle, the start was made for
the river, down the steep slope, and bearing off so as to leave their
outward track on their left.
It was a laborious descent, and Ned found the path he had to follow
encumbered by loose gray stones, and full of gins and traps, in the
shape of narrow cracks in the rock, and bramble-like canes ever ready to
trip him up. However, fortunately, the trees and bushes were pretty
open on that dry hill-side, and he could pick his way. But there was no
shot, and he saw no sign of bird or reptile; only a few butterflies
which started up from among the dry herbage, and went flapping away
among the trees.
Once or twice he heard the crackling of twigs on his left, and once he
fancied that he could hear the Malays coming on behind him; but he was
not sure, and he toiled on, bathed in perspiration, thinking how
wonderfully still everything was out there, and how loud the rustling
noise was he made with his boots in forcing his way through the scrub.
All at once, just as he was thinking what a likely place that steep
stony hill-side looked for snakes, a magnificent butterfly sprang up
within a yard or two of his feet, and as he stopped short, he saw it go
fluttering on in a zigzag fashion, and then pounce down all at once,
only a little way on before him, and right in the direction he had to
go.
"I don't see why I shouldn't have a specimen too," he said to himself,
as, regardless of the heat, he took off his straw hat, and crept
silently on with his eyes fixed upon the spot where the beautiful insect
had disappeared. He was within a yard of it, with upraised hat ready to
strike, when it darted up, and he made a bound forward, striking
downward with his hat at the same time.
The result was unexpected. Ned's step was on to nothing, and, letting
go of his hat, he uttered a cry of horror as he felt himself falling
through bushes, and then sliding along with an avalanche of stones,
apparently right away into the bowels of the earth, and vainly trying to
check himself by stretching out his hands.
One moment he saw the light dimmed by the green growth over the mouth of
the opening, the next he was in utter darkness, and gliding down rapidly
for what seemed, in his horror and confusion, a long period. Then all
at once the rattling, echoing noise of falling stones ceased, and so did
his progress, as he found himself, scratched and sore, lying on his side
upon a heap of stones, some of which were right over his legs. It did
not take him long to extricate himself, and stand upright with his hands
resting on a cold rocky wall, and as he stood there in the darkness, he
obeyed his first impulse, which was to shout for help. But at every cry
he uttered there was so terrible a reverberation and echo, that he
ceased, and began to try to climb back up the great crack to the light
of day.
To his horror and despair he soon found that such a climb would be
impossible in the darkness, and as a flood of terrible thoughts
threatened to sweep away his reason, and he saw himself dying slowly
there from starvation, it seemed to him that it was not quite so dark as
he thought, and peering before him, he felt about with hand and foot,
and changed his position slowly, finding that the stones beneath him
were pretty level till he made one unlucky step on a loose flat piece,
which began to glide rapidly down. Although he tried hard to save
himself, he slipped and rolled again for some distance before he could
check his way, when he sat up with his heart bounding with joy, for,
about a hundred yards or so before him, he could see a rough opening
laced over by branches, through which gleamed the sunlight.
And now, as he cautiously made his way toward the light, he began to
realise that he was in a rough rift or chasm in the rock, whose floor
descended at about the same rate as the hill-slope; and five minutes
after, he forced his passage out through the bushes which choked the
entrance, to hear, away on his left, a distant "cooey."
He answered at once, and went on descending the hill, thinking how
strange his adventure had been, and that after all it was only a bit of
a fright, and that he had come part of the way underground, instead of
above.
And now the heat of the sun reminded him that he had lost his hat, and
he stopped short with the intention of going back, but another shout on
his left warned him that he must proceed or he might be lost.
"And perhaps the Malays may find it," he argued; so tying his
handkerchief over his head with a great leaf inside, he trudged on,
answering the "cooeys" from time to time, till he drew nearer, and at
last, in obedience to a whistle, joined his uncle about the same time as
Frank.
"Nothing to show," cried the former. "I say, Ned, you got too far away.
I thought at one time I'd lost you. Why, where's your hat?"
"Lost it," replied the boy, looking toward Frank as he spoke.
That young gentleman was laughing at him, and this so roused Ned's ire,
sore and smarting as he was, that he did not attempt to make any
explanation of his mishap, feeling assured that he would only be laughed
at the more, for not looking which way he went.
They were all beginning to feel the effect of their walk in the hot sun,
and in consequence they trudged back rather silently to where the
peacock had been hung, and this was borne in triumph back to the boat,
where the rest of the men were patiently awaiting their return.
"Wonder what they've got ready for us," said Frank, rousing up a little
as they came near the river.
"Got ready? What, refreshments? Will they have anything?"
"There'll be a tremendous uproar if they have not," cried Frank. "The
rajah is a regular old pirate, as my father says, and he helps himself
to whatever he fancies from everybody round, but there's nothing stingy
about him as you'll find."
The lad was quite right in his surmises respecting refreshments, for the
men had quite a pleasant little repast spread, and most welcome of all,
a great piece of bamboo, about five feet long, hanging from the side of
the boat in the full sunshine, with one end swaying in the river.
"Look at that!" cried Frank. "Know what that is?"
"A very thick piece of bamboo."
"Yes, but what's in it?"
"I did not know anything was in it."
"But you will know directly. That's the big decanter, with a whole lot
of deliriously cool drink in it. I don't know what it is, only that
it's the old chap's favourite tipple, and it's precious good."
"Is it wine?"
"Oh no; at least perhaps they call it wine. It's somehow made with the
sap out of the palm-trees, with cocoa-nut milk and fruit juice. I don't
know, and it doesn't matter. As soon as you get your lips to a cup of
it, you don't want anybody to talk to you till it's done."
Ned soon had an opportunity of putting the contents of the bamboo to the
test, and he quite agreed with Frank's description, for it was delicious
after the long hot walk, and they all sat enjoying their meal as the
boat glided rapidly down stream now, the men merely dipping their oars
from time to time to keep her head straight. They had spent a far
longer time than Ned had expected, and the sun was sinking behind the
jungle as the village was reached, and they disembarked, Hamet being
ready to bear the spoils of the day up to the house, where Murray
intended to commence preparing the skins at once, but found that Mr
Braine was in waiting to insist upon the two newcomers dining with him
at his place.
"Never mind them," he cried, as Murray pointed to his specimens; "you
can get hundreds more at any time, and Barnes and his people will be
horribly disappointed if you do not come."
To Ned's great satisfaction his uncle gave way, for he felt no great
disposition to begin an unpleasant task after so hard a day, and the
result was that after a change they went up to the Resident's house, to
reach there just at the same time as the doctor, his wife, and daughter.