THE NAGA'S BITE
Phra had not been gone long before Mr. Kenyon returned from his
business down in the port, and in reply to his question, "Anything
fresh happened, my boy?" Harry told him what he had heard, watching
his father's face intently the while.
"Then you think it is very serious, father?" said Harry.
"Do I, Hal? What makes you say that?"
"You look anxious about it."
"I was not aware that you were studying my face," said Mr. Kenyon,
smiling. "Well, it is serious news, and it is not serious, if you can
understand that. The words you heard were those of dissatisfied folk,
and these exist everywhere. Of course I have long known that the
common, ignorant people resent our being here a good deal, especially
the followers of the second king, as they call him; but most of the
people like us, and I find that they are very eager to deal with me in
business, trusting me largely with their goods, and quite content to
wait till I choose to pay them. That looks as if we have a good
character. Then, as regards our treatment in the place, you have never
found any one insulting or offensive to you."
"No, father; every one is smiling and pleasant."
"Of course. You need not trouble yourself about the disagreeable
remarks of a couple of malcontents."
These words cheered Harry, whose young imagination had been piling up
horrors to come for the dwellers at the palace and the English people
who were near.
Two days later, when he was a little higher up the river, a pleasant,
musical voice saluted him from the other side of a hedge.
"What! going by without calling? For shame!"
Harry turned through a gate and down a path to where a lady was seated
busy over some kind of needlework under a shady tree.
There was something so pleasant in her smile of welcome that the boy
eagerly caught at her extended hand, before taking the chair that was
pointed out.
"But that's the doctor's," he said.
"Yes, but he is down the river in his boat, seeing some of his
patients. Have some fruit, Harry. All that basketful was sent us this
morning by one of Duncan's patients."
"How nice! May I take that mangosteen?"
"Take all," said Mrs. Cameron, for she it was. "The people are never
tired of sending us great pines and melons. They are so nice and
grateful for everything my husband does for them. I used to think it
would be very dreadful to come out here amongst all the strange,
half-savage people, as I expected they would be."
"But they are not savage," said Harry.
"Savage? No. They are as gentle and nice as can be. They seem to be
more afraid of us than we are of them."
Harry feasted his eyes upon the sweet face and form of the graceful
English lady, and the sight seemed to bring up something misty and
undefined of some one who used to lean over his little bed at night to
press her warm lips upon his face, which was brushed by her long, fair
hair.
It was a pleasant feeling, but sad as well, for the few moments that
the memory stayed.
Then he had to answer questions as to why he had not brought his
friend with him, of the games he had been playing, about his
excursions; and he was in the midst of his answers when a quick step
was heard, and Mrs. Cameron sprang up.
"Here is Duncan," she cried.
"Hullo, Hal!" cried the doctor, entering; "here you are, then! Where's
the Prince?"
"He has not been down to-day."
"Oh, then that is why we are honoured with a visit, is it?"
"I--I was not coming to see you to-day, was I, Mrs. Cameron?" said
Harry, colouring.
"No, that is a fact," said the lady. "He was going right by, but I
called him in."
"Ah, well, we will forgive you. Stop and have tea with us."
Harry's acceptation showed that he was only too glad, and after the
pleasant meal in the verandah, there was an interesting hour to be
spent in the doctor's curious compound of surgery, study, and museum,
where plenty of fresh insects had to be examined.
Mrs. Cameron displaying a bright, girl-like interest in everything,
till called away to give some instructions to her servants.
"How Mrs. Cameron must help you, Doctor!" said Harry. "I did not know
that she was so clever at pinning out moths."
"Look here," said the doctor sternly, "have you been saying anything
to her about what you told your father you heard said in that boat?"
"Not a word, sir."
"That's right. I'm glad of it; but I was afraid."
"Oh, I shouldn't have thought of telling her."
"I'm glad you have so much discretion, my boy. You see, ladies are
easily made nervous; and if my wife had heard all that, she would have
been fidgeting about it every time I was away, and of course that is
very often."
"You don't think there is any danger, do you?"
"Not the slightest, my boy; the people are all too friendly. It is
only a few discontented humbugs who are old-fashioned and object to
the King's ways."
"That is what my father says," said Harry.
"And that is what I say, so let's think no more about it."
"There's Phra," cried Harry, starting up, as a long-drawn whistle was
heard.
Harry ran out, and was going down to the gate, passing Mrs. Cameron,
who was walking back to her seat under the tree; but all of a sudden
she stopped short, tottered as if about to fall, and then stood there
with a ghastly face as white as her dress.
It was a mere glimpse that the boy obtained, but it was enough to
check his hurried race for the gate.
Something was wrong, he could not tell what; but the doctor's wife was
evidently in sore trouble, and he turned to go to her help.
"What is the matter, Mrs. Cameron?" he cried; but she made no reply.
It was as if she had not heard him speak, and with head averted she
stood looking to the left in a singularly strained attitude, like one
striving to escape from something horrible, but whose feet were held
to the ground.
In his excitement Harry ran round before her and caught her hand in
his, to find it icily cold; but she only uttered a gasping sound, and
still stared horribly and with convulsed face down to her left.
Very few moments had elapsed from the boy's first taking alarm till he
now turned wonderingly to his right to follow the direction of Mrs.
Cameron's eyes, and then a horrible chill ran through him, and he felt
paralysed and helpless, for there, not six feet away, raised up on the
lower part of its body, was one of the most deadly serpents in the
world, its grey brown marked scales glistening as it played about in a
wavy, undulatory fashion, its so-called hood spread out showing the
spectacle-like markings, and its flattened head turned down at right
angles to the neck, with the forked tongue playing and flickering in
and out through the little opening in its jaws.
The lower part of the creature was partly hidden by the flowers on a
dry bed, but the anterior portion rose fully three feet above the
plants, and the creature swung itself about and rose and sank as if
preparing for a spring upon the fascinated woman; for either from
horror or some occult power on the part of the deadly reptile, Mrs.
Cameron was perfectly helpless, and promised to be an easy victim to
the cobra when it struck.
But Harry's stunned sensation of horror did not last; he stepped back
for a moment or two, looking sharply about for a weapon, but looked in
vain, for there was nothing near but a small bamboo stool.
It was better than nothing. He caught it up by one leg, and raising it
above his shoulder he stepped quickly between Mrs. Cameron and her
enemy, prepared to strike with all his might, while the cobra's eyes
seemed to burn, and it drew back as if about to spring.
At that moment, released from the influence of the reptile by the
interposition of Harry's body, the power of movement returned, and
uttering a low, sobbing cry Mrs. Cameron sank slowly to her knees upon
the ground, where she crouched, watching the movements of her
champion, but not daring to look again at the serpent.
The sobbing cry behind him drew Harry's attention from his enemy for a
moment, but only for that space of time. Then he was once more on
guard, fully realizing the danger of his position, but so strung up by
the emergency that he felt not the slightest fear.
Harry's was but a momentary glance back, but it was an opportunity for
the enemy.
Quick as lightning it struck. There was the darting forward as of a
spring set free, the stroke and the rebound, and as the reptile was
about to strike again Harry delivered his blow, which crushed down the
hissing creature with such effect that the next moment it had writhed
itself out from among the plants, to lie clear to receive blow after
blow from the stool, till the latter flew into fragments, while the
cobra twined and twisted and tied itself into knots in its agony,
close to the lad's feet.
He did not attempt to shrink away, only looked round for something
else to seize as a weapon, and then he stared strangely at Mrs.
Cameron, who had sprung up.
"Harry! What is it?" she cried hoarsely. "Did it bite you?"
"Don't know," he said, in a curious, husky voice. "I--I think so; but
I've killed it."
"But where? Show me where?" panted Mrs. Cameron wildly.
For answer Harry drew back the cuff from his right wrist, and held it
up.
"There," he said.
Without a moment's hesitation Mrs. Cameron caught the lad's hand and
arm and raised it to her lips, sucking the tiny puncture with all her
power, and then, as she withdrew her lips for a moment, she shrieked
out,--
"Duncan! Duncan! Help, help!" before placing her lips to the bite
again.
"What's the matter?" cried Phra, running to them from the gate. "Mrs.
Cameron! Hal! What is it?"
"Snake," said Harry faintly, just as Phra caught sight of the writhing
creature, struck at it, and watching his opportunity crushed its head
into the ground with his heel, the reptile in its dying agonies
twining tightly about his ankle and leg.
Mrs. Cameron took her lips from the wound again, and her lips parted
to shriek once more; but her cries had been heard, and the doctor came
running down to her side.
There was no need to ask questions--he saw what had happened at a
glance, and the dangerous nature of the wound was told by the swollen
shape of the snake's neck by Phra's boot.
"Once more," he said to his wife; "then let me."
As Mrs. Cameron pressed her lips to the wound, her husband snatched
the thin silk neckerchief Harry wore from his neck, twisted it up into
a cord, and tied it as tightly as he could round the lad's arm, just
above the elbow-joint.
"Now let me come," he said sharply. "Run in, Mary; fetch basin,
sponge, water, and the caustic bottle."
Mrs. Cameron was used to her husband's ways in emergencies, and
resigning the patient to his hands she ran off to the house.
"Sit down here, Hal," said Cameron, "and keep a good heart, lad. I
daresay we shall take it in time."
As he spoke he pressed the silent lad back into Mrs. Cameron's chair,
snatched off the jacket, tore open the shirt-sleeve, and then drew out
his pocket-book, from which he took a lancet.
With this he scarified the tiny wound, making it bleed freely, before
placing his lips to it and trying to draw the poison away again and
again, while Phra stood close by, his face of a livid hue, and making
no offer of help on account of his position.
For the serpent was still twined tightly about his ankle and leg, and
he felt sure that if he released the head from beneath his foot, the
reptile would strike again.
By this time Mrs. Cameron was back with the various articles required,
and she knelt down with the basin in her lap as the doctor took a
little wide-mouthed bottle from her hand, removed the stopper, shook
out a tiny stick of white, sugar-looking crystal, and after moistening
the end, liberally used it in and about the mouth of the wound.
"Hurt you, my boy?" said Cameron sharply, as Harry lay back, with his
eyes tightly closed.
"Horribly," was the reply. "Feels like red-hot iron."
"Do you good, boy. Act like a stimulus. Now, can you walk indoors?"
"I think so."
"One moment. You, Phra, run up and tell Mr. Kenyon to come here
directly."
"No, no," cried Harry; "don't do that. It would frighten him."
"He must be told, Hal, my lad. Go, Phra."
The boy addressed pointed to his foot.
"If I let its head go, it will sting," he said.
"Oh, I see," said the doctor coolly, and taking a knife from his
pocket, he opened it, bent down, and with one cut passed the knife
blade through the cobra's neck, with the result that the long, lithe
body was set free, as if it had been held in its place by the position
of the head, and Phra's leg was released.
But he took his foot very cautiously off the head, which even then
moved, as if still connected with the slowly writhing body, for the
jaws opened and shut two or three times, the vitality in the creature
being wonderful.
But Phra did not stay to see. He stepped quickly to Harry's side and
caught his left hand, to hold it for a moment against his throbbing
breast, and then ran off as hard as he could go.
Meanwhile, supported on either side by the doctor and his wife, Harry
was led into the former's room, the boy looking rather wild and
strange. Here he was seated upon a cane couch, while a draught of
ammonia and water was prepared, and held to him to drink.
"Not thirsty," he said, shaking his head.
"Never mind; drink," cried the doctor, and the lad hastily tossed off
the contents.
"Nice?" said the doctor, with a smile.
"Horrid; like soap and water," replied Harry. "May I go to sleep?"
"Yes, for a time, if you can."
"But I say, look here, Doctor; when father comes, don't let him be
frightened. I'm not going to be very bad, am I?"
"I hope not, Hal. You see, we have taken it in time."
"That's right," said the boy, with a deep sigh, and he closed his eyes
at once and let his head subside on the pillow, sinking at once into a
kind of stupor, for it was not like sleep.
"Oh, Duncan," whispered Mrs. Cameron, as soon as she felt satisfied
that the patient could not hear, "surely he will not die?"
"Not if I can help it, dear," he replied. "That was very brave of you
to suck the wound. It may have saved his life."
"Poor, brave, darling boy!" she cried, bursting into a convulsive fit
of sobbing, as she sank in her husband's arms, utterly giving way now.
"He saved me from the horrible reptile, and was bitten himself."
"Ha! God bless him for it--and spare his life," added the doctor to
himself--"that was it, then?"
"Yes, dear," sobbed Mrs. Cameron; "I was going back to take up my work
when I heard a rustling sound among the flowers, and looking round I
saw the horrible thing dancing and waving itself up and down as they
do when a snake-charmer plays to them. I couldn't stir; I couldn't
speak. I seemed to be suddenly made rigid; and then it was that Harry
saw the state I was in, and came to my help."
"What did he do?" said the doctor, as he tried to calm his wife's
hysterical sobs.
"Ran between me and the snake, and struck at it when it darted itself
out. It would have bitten me, for it was gradually coming closer to
me, and--and--and--oh, it was so dreadful, Duncan dear! I seemed to
have no power to move. I knew that if I ran off I should be safe, but
I could not stir, only wait as if fixed by the horrible creature's
eyes--wait till it darted at and bit me."
"And Harry dashed in between you?"
"Yes, dear. He seized the little bamboo stool, and struck at it. Oh,
Duncan! Duncan! Don't let him die!"
"Let him die, my dear?" said the doctor, drawing in his breath. "Not
if my poor knowledge can save him. But I have great hopes that your
brave thoughtfulness will have had its effect. Now go and lie down a
bit till you have grown calm. This terrible business has unhinged
you."
"No, no, dear; let me stay."
"I dare not, my dear. You are weak and hysterical from the shock, and
I must keep the poor boy undisturbed."
"You may trust me, dear," said Mrs. Cameron; "I am better now. There,
you see I am mastering my weakness. I will master it, and be quite
calm, so as to help you to nurse him and make him well."
"May I trust you?"
"Yes, yes, dear."
"But suppose he is very, very bad?" whispered the doctor.
"I will be quite calm and helpful then. Afterwards I will not answer
for myself."
"Then stay," said the doctor, who examined his patient as he lay
there, looking strange and completely stupefied.
"Raise him up a little," said the doctor, after he had mixed some more
ammonia and water; "I want him to drink this."
Mrs. Cameron's task was easy, and there was no trouble then in getting
the patient to drink, till the last spoonful or two, which he thrust
away.
"It hurts me to swallow," he muttered, as if to himself--"it hurts me
to swallow."
The doctor frowned, as he helped his wife to lower the poor fellow
down, and examined the wrist and arm, which were now becoming terribly
swollen and blotched.
"Oh, Duncan!" whispered Mrs. Cameron, "can't you do something more?"
"No," he said sadly; "one is fearfully helpless in such a case as
this. Everything possible has been done; it is a fight between nature
and the poison."
"And there seemed to be no time before I was trying to draw it out of
the wound again."
"It is so horribly subtle," said the doctor. "What you did ought to
have checked the action, but it is going on. I dread poor Kenyon's
coming, and yet I am longing for it. He cannot be long."
"Duncan," whispered Mrs. Cameron, as she laid her hand tenderly upon
Harry's forehead, "are you sure that he cannot understand what we
say?"
"Quite."
"You said the poison was subtle; will it be long before the effect
passes off?"
"No," replied the doctor; "the danger should be quite at an end before
an hour is passed. Subtle? Horribly subtle and quick, dear. I have
known poor creatures die in a quarter of an hour after being struck.
Hist! I can hear Kenyon's steps in the garden. Go to the door and
bring him in."
Mrs. Cameron went out softly, but returned with Phra.
"Is Mr. Kenyon coming?"
"He went down the river in his boat, Michael says, and will not be
back till evening."
"Tut--tut--tut!" ejaculated the doctor.
"How is he?" whispered Phra.
"Bad; very bad," replied the doctor.
"Oh!" cried Phra, in agony. "But you are curing him, Doctor Cameron?"
"I am doing everything I possibly can, Phra."
"Yes, I know; and you are so clever. It is all right, and he will soon
be better."
The doctor groaned, and bent over his patient, exchanging glances with
his wife--looks both full of despair.
Phra stepped to the doctor's side, and caught him fiercely by the arm.
"You frighten me," he whispered excitedly. "Don't say he is very bad!"
"Look," said the doctor sadly, and he pointed to the horrible
appearance of his young patient's arm. "It is of no use to disguise
it, Phra: the poison of these dreadful reptiles is beyond a doctor's
skill."
"But do something--do something!" cried Phra angrily. "You are only
standing and looking on. You must--you shall do more."
Mrs. Cameron rose and took the lad's hands, drawing them aside.
"Be patient, Phra," she whispered. "My husband is doing everything
that is possible."
"But it is so dreadful," cried Phra. "I saw some one die from a
snake-bite, and he looked just like that. But there was no doctor
then. Can't he do something more?"
Mrs. Cameron shook her head.
"You know how clever and wise he is, Phra. We must trust him. He knows
what is best."
Phra groaned, and sank down despairingly in a chair; but he started up
again directly.
"Shall I fetch my father? He is very wise about snake-bites. He would
come for Hal."
"He could do nothing," said the doctor gravely. "Be silent, please; I
am doing everything that is possible."
Phra frowned on hearing the imperative way in which the doctor spoke,
but he did not resent it. He merely went on tip-toe to the head of the
couch, and knelt down there, watching every movement on Harry's part,
though these were few.
From time to time the doctor administered ammonia, but it seemed to
have not the slightest effect: the swelling went on; the skin of the
boy's arm grew of a livid black; and the mutterings of delirium made
the scene more painful.
And so three hours passed away, with no sign of Mr. Kenyon, no token
given that the danger was nearly passed.
Every one was indefatigable, striving the best to render Harry's
sufferings lighter; but all seemed in vain, and at last, as she read
truly the look of despair in her husband's face, every palliative he
administered seeming to be useless, Mrs. Cameron, after fighting hard
to keep back her grief, threw herself upon her knees by the side of
the couch, and burst into a hysterical fit of sobbing.
This was too much for Phra, who, to hide his own feelings, hurried out
into the garden, unable as he was to witness Mrs. Cameron's sufferings
unmoved.
And now in his utter despair the doctor made no effort to check his
wife's loud sobs, feeling as he did that they could do no harm; and
after attending to his patient again, he was about to walk to the
window to try and think whether there was anything else that he could
do, when to his astonishment Harry opened his eyes, stared round
vacantly, and said in sharp tones,--
"Yes! What is it? Who called?"
The doctor was at his side in an instant, and caught his hand. "Harry,
my lad," he said, "do you know me?"
The boy stared at him strangely, but he had comprehended the question.
"Know you?" he said. "Yes; why shouldn't I know you? What a ridiculous
question! But--Here, what is the matter with that lady? Is it--is
it--? My head aches, and I can't think," he added, after looking
wonderingly about. "What has been the matter? Doctor Cameron, has some
one been ill?"
"Yes, some one has been very ill," said the doctor, laying his cool
hand upon the boy's forehead and pressing him back upon the pillow.
"Some one has been very ill! Who is it? Can't be father or Mike. Why
am I here? I'm not ill. Here, something hurts me, doctor--something on
the wrist. Just look; it hurts so that I can't lift it."
The doctor took hold of the frightfully swollen arm, and made as if
examining the injury, saying quietly,--
"Oh, it's only a bite; it will be better soon. I'll put a little olive
oil to it. Will you get some, my dear?"
Mrs. Cameron rose from her knees quickly, and hurried out of the room,
keeping her head averted so that Harry should not see her face.
He noticed this, and his eyes filled with a wondering look. "I don't
understand it," he said. "I'm not at home."
"No," said the doctor quietly. "You are here, at my house."
"Of course; and that was Mrs. Cameron who went out to get the oil,
and--"
He stopped short, and looked about him for some moments. Then in a
puzzled way:--
"There's something I want to think about, but I can't."
"Don't worry about it, then. Lie still till you can."
"Yes, that will be the best way. Ah! here she is."
Mrs. Cameron was back with the oil, and he made her lips quiver, and
she had hard work to keep back her tears, as he said,--
"That's good of you to fetch it. Thank you, Doctor. What was it bit
me? One of those big mosquitoes? Ah!"
He uttered a wild cry, and his face grew convulsed with horror.
"What is it, my dear boy?" said the doctor.
"I know now," he said, in a low, passionate, agitated voice. "It has
come back. The snake! I was bitten by that snake!"
"Yes, my boy, but the effect is all passing off," said the doctor
soothingly.
"No, no; you are saying that to keep me from thinking I shall die of
the bite, and--" his voice sank to a whisper, as he murmured
despairingly, "Oh, father, father! what will you do?"
"I am not cheating you, Harry," said the doctor, leaning over him; "it
is the simple truth. You were bitten by the virulent reptile; but
fortunately we were close by, and the poison has yielded to the
remedies."
"Ah! you gave me something?"
"We did, of course," said the doctor gravely, giving his wife a
glance. "You have been delirious and insensible, but the poison is
mastered, and you have nothing to do now but get well. Thank God!"
The boy took the last words literally. He closed his eyes, and they
saw his lips move in the silence which lasted for some minutes.
Then he opened his eyes, and spoke quite naturally.
"I can recollect all about it now. But tell me, are you sure Mrs.
Cameron was not hurt?"
"Hurt? No, Harry," said that lady, taking his hand, to press it to her
lips. "I have you to thank for saving my life."
He imitated her action, and said with a smile,--
"No, no. Doctor Cameron would have cured you as he did me. But ugh!
what an arm!" he cried, hastily drawing the sleeve over the
discoloured, swollen skin. "I say, doctor, it won't stop like that,
will it?"
"Oh no, that will soon pass away."
At that moment Phra's piteous face appeared at the window, looking
inquiringly in, for he had been puzzled by the voices he had heard;
and as soon as he grasped the state of affairs, he uttered a wild
cry,--
"Hal!"
It was as he rushed in through the window and dashed across the floor,
to pretty well fling himself upon his companion. Then, with simulated
anger, to choke down the burst of sobs striving for exit,--
"Oh, you wretch!" he cried, "to frighten us all like that! Doctor,
what doesn't he deserve!"
"Rest and quiet, Phra, my lad. Steady, please; he is a bit weak yet."
"Yes, I understand. But oh, Hal, old chap, old chap! you have made me
feel bad!"
"So sorry," said the boy, "and so glad you all felt like that. But,
Phra, I want you to do something."
"Yes, what is it?" cried Phra eagerly.
"I want you to go up to our place and wait till father comes back.
Then tell him I'm better. I shouldn't like him to hear I had been
bitten by a naga without knowing the whole truth."
"Yes, I'll go," cried the boy, pressing his friend's hand. "But tell
me first, doctor: he is ever so much better?"
"Quite out of all danger now," was the reply, and Phra started off,
but only to find that he was too late, for before he had gone a
hundred yards he met Mr. Kenyon and Mike, running.
"Ah!" cried the merchant wildly, catching Phra by the arm, "tell me
quickly--the truth--the truth."
"Better; getting well fast," said Phra quickly.
Mr. Kenyon stopped short and laid his hand to his breast, and stood
panting for a few minutes before speaking again.
"Mike told you as soon as you came ashore, then?"
"No, he came down the river in a boat to fetch me, as soon as he heard
the news. But come, quick, I must see for myself!"
As Mr. Kenyon entered the room the doctor and his wife just said a
word, and then went softly out, Phra grasping the reason and following
them into the garden.
"Yes, I see," he said softly; "to let them be alone."
They all three turned down one of the paths amongst the thickly
planted bushes, and then stopped short in wonder, for there just
before them was Mike, crying like a child, and wiping his eyes.
He was aware of their presence, though, almost as soon as they were of
his, and making a pretence of mopping his face with the handkerchief
he held, he hurried up.
"Awful hot, sir," he said. "You want me?"
"No, not yet," said the doctor, ignoring the tears; "but in two or
three hours I think we can get your young master home. I think you had
better see about a palanquin and bearers by-and-by. Or perhaps you
might as well go now, and tell the men to be here in two hours' time."
"Yes, sir; of course, sir, but--er--"
"What is it?" said the doctor.
"Could I just go and say a word to the young master, sir?"
"I think not now, Mike. His father is with him, and we have left them
so that they might be alone."
"Of course, sir, and quite right too," said Mike. "I'll be off at
once, sir; but it is amazing hot."
Mike hurried away, and as soon as he was out of hearing Phra said
quickly,--
"See how he'd been crying, Mr. Cameron?"
"Yes, Phra."
"That's because he liked our Hal so. Every one likes Hal."