THE BRINK OF A VOLCANO
The boys were quite wrong in imagining that their act of escaping from
the museum had passed unnoticed, for as soon as they had passed out of
hearing the doctor nodded his head and threw himself back in his cane
chair.
"Now we are alone," he said to Mr. Kenyon, "I may as well tell you
what I have heard."
"Nothing serious, I hope?"
"No--yes. It may be either," replied the doctor. "I would not say
anything before the boys, for it might make Phra uneasy."
"And Harry?" said Mr. Kenyon.
"No, I think not. I don't believe he would give the matter a second
thought."
"You are hard upon the boy," said Mr. Kenyon, rather sternly.
"Not in the least," said the doctor, smiling. "It is his nature. I
don't think the matter is really of any consequence, but it would have
upset Phra, who is as sensitive as a girl; and he would be worrying
himself, and thinking about it for weeks, beside exaggerating the
matter on his father's account."
"What is it, then--some trouble with our friend the other king?"
"Friend, eh? I believe that if he could have his own way every
European would be driven out of the country--or into the river," he
added to himself--"before we were twenty-four hours older."
"What is the fresh trouble, now?"
"Nothing fresh about it, Kenyon. It is the stale old matter. Here we
have two parties in the country."
"Yes, and worse still, two kings," interposed Mr. Kenyon.
"Exactly, each having his own party. The one wants to see the country
progress and become prosperous and enlightened; the other for it to
keep just as it was five hundred years ago; and the worst of it is
nearly all the people are on the stand-still side."
"Yes," said Mr. Kenyon. "The old traditions and superstitions suit the
indolent nature of the people."
"And the progress the King is making offends their prejudices."
"You mean the prejudices of the bonzes," said Mr. Kenyon sadly.
"Exactly; that is what I do mean, and they are getting so thick with
the second king, that I sometimes begin to be afraid that we shall
have trouble."
"You have had that idea for a long time now, but the reigning King
holds so strong a position that his kinsman dare not rise against him.
He is as gentle and amiable a man as could exist, but there is the old
Eastern potentate in him still, and our friend number two knows
perfectly well that if he attempted to rise he would be pretty well
sure to fail, and then his head would fall as surely as if our old
Harry the Eighth were on the throne."
"But would he fail? All the bonzes are on his side."
"Yes," said Mr. Kenyon, laughing; "and they'd tell him to go on and
prosper, but they would not fight."
"No, they would not fight," said the doctor musingly.
"Do you think there is a regular conspiracy?"
"I really do sometimes, and it makes me uneasy."
"That is because you are a young married man, and fidget about your
wife."
"Well, and quite naturally."
"Yes, quite naturally, of course; but when you have been here as long
as I have, you will not be so nervous."
"I don't think I am nervous, Kenyon; but it would be very horrible if
there should be a rising amongst the people."
"Horrible, but not likely, my dear sir."
"But if there were? I suppose I am right in looking upon ourselves as
being favourites."
"Certainly."
"Well, then, should we not be among the first whom the people would
attack?"
"That is quite possible, but I suppose we should defend ourselves, and
be defended as well by the people who remained staunch."
"I have thought of all that, but if trouble did come it would be
sudden and unexpected, and we should be taken by surprise."
"We might be, or we might have ample warning. I think the latter, for
these people are very open and wanting in cunning."
"But don't you think we--or say you--having so much influence with the
King, would do wisely if you warned him--told him of our suspicions?"
"No, I think not," said Mr. Kenyon.
"Why?"
"Because, quiet and studious as the King is, he happens to be very
acute and observant. I feel certain that nothing goes on in the city
without his being fully aware of it; and though he seems to take very
little notice, I am pretty sure that nothing important takes place
except under his eye, or which is not faithfully reported to him by
one or other of his councillors."
"Perhaps you are right," said the doctor, "and I have been
unnecessarily nervous."
"I feel sure that you have been. I would speak to him, but he might
look upon it as an impertinent interference on my part in connection
with private family matters. Take my advice, and let it rest. We
should have ample warning and ample protection, I feel sure. But I am
glad you spoke out, all the same. But bah! nonsense! You would not be
hurt--you, the doctor who has done so much good among the poor people.
Why, doctor, they look upon you as something more than man: they
idolize you."
"For the few simple cures I have effected."
"Few? Hundreds."
"Well, hundreds, then. But what has it done?"
"Made you friends with every one in the city."
"Made me a number of bitter enemies, sir. Why, the native doctors
absolutely hate me. My word! I should not like to be taken ill and
become helpless. They'd never let me get well again if they had the
doctoring."
"Don't be too hard on them," said Mr. Kenyon.
"Not I, my dear sir. I only speak as I think. So you would not take a
step in our defence?"
"Not until we were certain that it was necessary; then as many as you
like. Steps? I'd make them good long strides. But say no more: the
boys are coming back, and we don't want to set them thinking about
such things."
In effect, steps were heard in the verandah, and a few minutes later
Harry hurried into the museum again.
"Well, boy!" cried the doctor. "What is it? you look hot."
"Tiger," said Harry eagerly.
"Where?" cried Mr. Kenyon and his visitor in a breath.
"Over yonder, by the new sugar plantation," cried Harry. "Jumped on a
man and killed him. Sree has just heard the news. He told me and
Phra."
"How horrible!" said Mr. Kenyon.
"Yes, and the village people sent a messenger to Sree. They want the
brute killed, and we're going to have an expedition and destroy the
wretch."
"Indeed?" said Mr. Kenyon drily.
"You and Mr. Cameron will come with us, of course, father?" said
Harry, who was too much excited to notice the glances exchanged
between the merchant and his visitor; "but I should like to have first
shot, and kill the beast."
"No doubt," said the doctor drily; "but I suppose you would not wish
us to give up our chances if the tiger came out our way?"
"Oh no, of course not," said Harry. Then turning to Mr. Kenyon, "You
will try the new rifles the King sent to you, will you not, father?"
"When I go tiger-hunting," said Mr. Kenyon drily.
Harry felt damped by his father's manner.
"But you will go now, father?"
"What, and walk the tiger up like one would a partridge?" said Mr.
Kenyon. "Certainly not, and you are not old and experienced enough yet
to go tiger-shooting. It requires a great deal of nerve."
"Oh, but I don't think I should feel frightened, father."
"Perhaps not; but you would be too much excited, and might shoot the
doctor. We could not spare him, Hal."
"I shouldn't, father. You taught me how to handle a gun, and if I can
do that I ought to be able to handle a rifle."
"Possibly; but, as Mr. Cameron will tell you, we could not risk going
on foot."
"We're not going on foot, father," cried Harry excitedly. "We're going
to have two elephants, and you and doctor could go on one, and Phra
and I on the other."
"Oh, that alters the case," said Mr. Cameron eagerly.
"Has the King offered to lend us elephants?" said Mr. Kenyon.
"No, father, but he will," said Harry. "Phra has gone to tell him, and
he is sure to say we may have them."
"Indeed? I doubt it."
"He always lets Phra and me have anything we ask for."
"Yes, he is very indulgent to you both, my boy--too much so sometimes;
but I notice that there is a certain amount of wisdom in what he does.
What about the rifles?"
"Well, he gave us the rifles, father."
"With certain restrictions, Hal. They were to be placed in my charge,
and I was to decide when it would be right for you to use them."
"Oh yes, father, he did say that."
"Yes, and I think it was not until you and Phra had been waiting
nearly two years that they were sent."
"It was a long time, certainly," agreed Harry.
"The King is a wise man in his way, and I feel pretty sure that he
will refuse to lend the elephants. What do you say, Cameron?"
"I agree with you."
"What, and let the tiger lurk about that great plantation and keep on
killing the poor fellows who are hoeing?" cried Harry indignantly.
"I'm sure he wouldn't; he's too particular about protecting people."
"He will most likely get up a big hunt to destroy the tiger," said the
doctor; "but I don't believe he will let you two boys go."
"Oh!" cried Harry, who seemed as if he could hardly contain himself in
his keen disappointment; "any one would think it was wicked and
contemptible to be a boy. One mustn't do this and one mustn't do that,
because one is a boy. One mustn't do anything because one is a boy.
It's always, 'You are too young' for what one wants to do. Oh," he
cried passionately, "who'd be a boy?"
"I would, for one," said the doctor, laughing.
"I don't believe it, doctor," cried Harry. "You wouldn't like to be
always kept down."
"Perhaps not; boys never do. They're too stupid."
"What!" cried Harry.
"Too stupid," said the doctor again, while Mr. Kenyon lay back in his
creaking cane chair with his eyes half closed, listening, with an
amused expression of countenance. "Why, I was as stupid as you are,
Hal, at your age."
"But you did not think so," retorted Hal.
"Of course I did not. I did not know any better. I could not see that
by being a thorough boy for so many years, and being boyish and
thinking as a boy should think, I should naturally grow into a
thorough manly man."
"I don't quite understand you, sir," said Harry rather distantly.
"But I'm speaking plainly enough, Hal. Come, confess, my lad; you want
to be a man, and to be treated as if you were one?"
Harry hesitated.
"Speak out frankly, sir," said Mr. Kenyon sternly.
"Well, of course I do," said the lad.
"And you can't see that if we treated you as you wish to be treated,"
said the doctor earnestly, "that we should be weak, foolish, and
indulgent, for we should be doing you harm?"
"Oh, Mr. Cameron, what nonsense!"
"Think of this some day in the future, Hal, my lad," said the doctor
warmly, "and you will find then that it is not nonsense. Look here, my
lad, a boy of seventeen, however advanced and able he may be in some
things, is only a boy."
"Only a boy!" said Harry bitterly.
"Yes, only a boy; a young, green sapling who must pass through years
before he can grow naturally into a strong, muscular man. Some boys
fret over this and the restraints they undergo, because of their
youth, and want to be men at once--want to throw away four or five of
the golden years of their existence, and all through ignorance,
because they are too blind to see how beautiful they are."
"You told me all that once before, Mr. Cameron."
"Very likely, Hal, for I am rather disposed to moralize sometimes. But
it's quite true, my lad."
"Yes." said Mr. Kenyon, "it's true enough, Hal, for boys are
wonderfully boyish. Naturally, too, my lad," he added, with a laugh.
"But there, don't build any hopes upon this expedition, for I should
certainly shrink from letting you go."
"Oh, father, I would be so careful, and I'll believe all Doctor
Cameron said and won't want to be a man till I am quite grown up. I'll
be as boyish as I can be."
"I think I'd shrink from any promises of that kind, Hal," said the
doctor, smiling. "Don't tie yourself down to rules of your own
invention. Look here, aim at being natural, at hitting the happy
medium."
"I suppose that's the unhappy medium for the boy, isn't it?"
"Not at all, my lad; it's the way to be happy. Leave it to Nature; she
will set that right. Don't be too boyish, and don't aim at being an
imitation man--in other words a prig. Be natural."
"Yes," said Mr. Kenyon; "the doctor's right, Hal. Be natural, and you
will not be far wrong there."
"I always am as natural as I can be," said Harry, throwing himself
into action, and looking as gloomy and discontented as a boy could
look; "but no one gets to be so disappointed and sat upon as I am."
Mr. Kenyon's brow clouded over, but he said nothing.
"So sure as I set my mind upon anything I'm sure to be balked."
"Poor fellow!" said the doctor gravely.
"Yes, Doctor, it's all very well for you to make fun of me. You can do
just as you like."
"Of course," said the doctor gravely, "and I see that does make a
difference. One sees things from such a different point of view."
"Yes, that you do," said Harry.
"Exactly," continued the doctor slowly, "and you see, as you say, I do
exactly as I like, have everything I wish for, never suffer the
slightest trouble, enjoy the most robust health, am as rich as a man
need wish to be; in fact, I am the happiest man under the sun."
"Are you, Doctor?" said Harry. "I'm glad of it. I didn't know it was
so good as that."
"And, of course, that is about how you'd like to be, eh, Hal?"
"Well," said the boy, hesitating, "something like that--I--er--I--I
don't want to be greedy."
"Don't want to be greedy?" cried the doctor, changing his manner, as
he sprang up and began to pace the museum. "Why, you miserable,
discontented young cub! There is not one boy in a thousand leads such
a life as you do: a good home, surrounded by friends, with plenty of
time for study, and plenty of time for the necessary amusement. Yours,
sir, is an ideal life; but it has spoilt you, and I'm afraid it is
from having a too indulgent father."
"Oh, come, Cameron, I must speak in my own defence," said Mr. Kenyon.
"And you ought to speak in mine too, father," cried Harry indignantly,
as he gazed at the doctor with blazing eyes and flaming cheeks.
"I can't, Hal," said his father, smiling; "there's so much truth in
what he says, my boy, and your words were uncalled for--unjust."
"I beg your pardon, Kenyon," said the doctor; "I had no business to
speak as I did. I had no right. But I'm such a hot-headed Scotsman,
and Master Hal here put me out."
"There is no begging pardon needed," said Mr. Kenyon quietly.
"You see, I could not help comparing Hal's lot with mine--a poor, raw
lad on the west coast who lived on potatoes and porridge, with a
broiled herring or haddie once in a way for a treat. But there, once
more, I had no right to interfere."
"I say, granted, and thanks."
"Then I shan't beg your pardon, Hal, boy," cried the doctor, "for I
honestly believe what I say is the truth. Take it all as so many
pills, and if you'll come along the river to my place to-morrow
morning I'll give you a draught as well--to do you good, my dear
boy--to do you good."
"I think I've had physic enough," said Harry sulkily.
"And you don't seem to like the taste, eh?" said the doctor, laughing.
"Never mind; it will, as people say, do you good. You will be sure to
have some bit of luck to take the taste out of your mouth--a bit of
sugary pleasure, my lad. Aha! and here it comes in the shape of
friend, Phra, the prince, who, king's son as he is, does not enjoy a
single advantage more than you."
"Doctor!" cried Harry indignantly. "He has only to speak to have
everything he wants. No one could be better off than he is. Look, he's
in a hurry to tell us all about the expedition for to-morrow. Oh, it
is so disappointing, for I wanted so badly to shoot a tiger. It set me
longing when Phra and I looked at those skins to-day."
"Dear me! what a thirst for blood you are developing, Hal!" said the
doctor, as Mr. Kenyon still sat back in his chair, looking pained,
while his son carefully avoided gazing in his direction. "I should
have thought you had killed enough for one day."
"Well, Phra?" cried Harry, as his companion came straight in.
"Well?" said the boy, with a mocking smile.
"What did your father say?"
Phra was silent for a few moments, and then he spoke quietly.
"That I was too much of a boy yet to think of going after tigers,"
said the lad slowly, and then he started and frowned. For the doctor
had thrown himself back in one of the cane chairs, which gave vent to
a peculiar squeaking noise, while its occupier rocked himself to and
fro, literally roaring with laughter.
"I am very sorry if I have said some ridiculous thing, sir," said Phra
gravely. "I speak English as well as I can."
"Ridiculous thing!" cried the doctor, springing up and seizing the
young Siamese by the shoulders; "why, it was splendid. Look at him,"
he cried, half-choking with laughter, "look at Hal! Oh, dear me, how
you have made my sides ache!"
"But I don't understand," said Phra.
"Then you soon shall," cried the doctor. "My lord there has been in a
tantrum because--because--oh, dear me, I shall be able to speak
directly."
Phra looked in a puzzled way from the laughing doctor to his friend,
who sat frowning and biting his lips.
"Because," continued the doctor, "Mr. Kenyon here has told him that he
should not like him to go to the tiger hunt."
"Mr. Kenyon told him so?" cried Phra quickly.
"Yes, because he is too young."
"Oh, I am so glad," cried Phra, showing his white teeth.
Harry started as if he had received a blow.
"What!" he cried fiercely.
"I say I am so glad, because that is just what my father said to me."
"And very wisely too, Phra, my boy," said Mr. Kenyon, rising. "You
lads had better wait a bit longer before you indulge in a sport which
is very risky even to one mounted upon an elephant, especially if the
elephant is timid. I have known several bad accidents occur through
the poor creature becoming unmanageable from a wounded beast's
charge."
"It's disappointing, sir," said Phra; "but I suppose father's right."
"Of course he is, and I'm glad to see you take it so wisely."
The speaker laid his hand on the doctor's arm, and they went out into
the verandah.
"Ah, Kenyon, you spoil that boy with indulgence."
"Think so?"
"Yes; I don't like to hear a lad like that speak as he did to you. It
was that made me fire up. But there, I'm sorry if I've done wrong."
"You have not done wrong," said Mr. Kenyon, "and I am rather glad you
spoke as you did. But you do not understand Hal so well as I do."
"Naturally I do not."
"He is a queer boy, with a good many things about him that I don't
like; but he has some oddities that I do like. I dare say he will
display one of them before you go."
"He will have to be quick about it, then," said the doctor, smiling,
"for I have not much longer to stay."
"Plenty of time for him to show the stuff he is made of. I'm sorry to
disappoint the boys, though."
"And ourselves too, for I should have liked the jaunt, and the more of
those savage beasts we can destroy the better. What do you say to
going over to the palace and asking the old gentleman to let us have
the use of the elephants and beaters?"
"No," said Mr. Kenyon, "I could not do that under the circumstances.
It would be too hard upon the boys. Yes, Michael?"
"There is a man from--one of the gentlemen from the King to see you,
sir," said the man.
"Indeed? I will come. Come too, Cameron; I daresay it will interest
you."
The messenger had come to ask Mr. Kenyon if he would take charge of a
little expedition to be made against a tiger that had been destroying
life in the neighbourhood, and to say that as matters were so serious
the King would be greatly obliged if he would go.
"I don't like to say No, and I don't want to say Yes," said Mr.
Kenyon.
"I do not see how you can refuse."
"Neither do I," said Mr. Kenyon thoughtfully, and he sent a note back,
promising to undertake the task.
Hardly had the messenger departed before Harry came hurriedly into the
room, but started on seeing the doctor there.
"I thought you had gone, sir," he said. "I made sure I heard the door
swing to."
"No, I have not gone, Hal," said the doctor, smiling good-humouredly;
"but I'll soon be off, if you want to speak to your father alone."
"I did, sir; but it doesn't matter your being here."
"What is it, Hal?" said Mr. Kenyon gravely.
"Wanted to tell you I feel horribly ashamed of myself, father," said
Harry quickly.
"Indeed?"
"Yes, it seems so queer that such a chap as Phra should behave like a
gentleman over a bit of disappointment, while I--I--well, I behaved
like a disagreeable boy."
"But very naturally, Hal," said the doctor. "Better than acting like a
make-believe man."
"Thank you, Hal," said Mr. Kenyon quietly, holding out his hand. "Has
Phra gone?"
"No, father."
"Tell him that his father has sent requesting me to take charge of an
expedition against the tiger, and that I am sorry I cannot ask you two
lads to go with me."
"All right, father; he won't mind. I don't now."
Harry nodded at the doctor, and went out of the room, while his father
waited till his steps had ceased, and a door had swung to.
"Odd boy, isn't he, Cameron?" said Mr. Kenyon then.
"Very odd chap," replied the doctor. "But I like boys to be odd like
that."