FOR THE JUNGLE, HO!
In due time the skin of the tiger, beautifully dressed, and with the
hole made by Sul's tusk so carefully drawn together that the fur
concealed the damage, was brought to the bungalow by Sree, who was
eager to go upon a fresh expedition; but another week passed away
before matters shaped themselves for this to be made.
Matters had gone on as usual, and the insubordinate words used by the
occupants of the boat were half forgotten in the excitement of
religious fetes and illuminations with lanthorns along the river,
kite-flying, and discharges of fireworks, in the making of some of
which the people, who had learned the art of the Chinese, were adepts.
These fĂȘtes were wonderfully attractive to the two lads, who joined
in the processions for the sake of seeing all they could, the royal
boat in which they were rowed being one mass of coloured lanthorns
swinging from bamboo frameworks, and the effect with the lights
reflected in the glassy water was beautiful in the extreme.
"I should enjoy it all so much more, though," Harry said, "if the
people would be contented with the bells and the music. They spoil it
all with so much gong."
But the Siamese do not shine in music--at least to English taste.
Phra came down to the bungalow some time or other every day, and as
often as not Harry returned with him to the palace; but he rarely saw
the King, who appeared to pass a great deal of his time in study.
Not a day passed without the cricket implements being examined in
Phra's room. The bats were handled, the balls taken out of their
boxes, and sometimes a little throwing from one to the other, and
catching was practised.
At another time the pads which had come with the rest of the things
were solemnly tried on, and the room promenaded.
"They seem rather stupid things," said Phra. "I think they'd be best
for the football."
"So as to save one's legs from kicks?" said Harry. "Yes, they wouldn't
be bad for that, but I suppose they're all right."
"We look rather ridiculous in them, though, Hal."
"Yes, I expect we shall be laughed at; but I don't care. The worst
thing about them is that they're so jolly hot. Now let's try on the
gloves."
These were carefully put on, the boys' countenances being particularly
solemn as the long indiarubber guarded fingers were examined.
Then a thought occurred to Harry, and he struck an attitude.
"What do you say to a fight?" he cried. "We can't hurt one another
with our legs guarded and our hands in these gloves. Hit me, and I'll
hit you."
"No," said Phra shortly; "I don't like fighting in play. It always
hurts, and then I get cross, and want to hit as hard as I can. I say,
though, we shall be hot in these leggings and gloves."
"Look here," cried Harry; "we haven't seen these before."
"What are they?"
"Gloves, of course, all stuffed and soft. Here, let's look at the book
and see what it says about them."
The book of games was examined, but they found no mention of the
wicket-keeper's gloves, but plenty of other information which was
puzzling.
"It's all very well to call this thing a book of games," said Harry at
last, "but there doesn't seem to be much fun in it. It's as puzzling
as old Euclid with his circles and straight lines and angles. Here,
let's put all the things away. I can't understand. We'll make the
doctor show us; that's the easiest way."
And so it was time after time, nothing more being done, for it was
decided that there should be no genuine commencement till the doctor
was ready, and though he was reminded pretty well every day he always
replied that he was not ready yet.
"But there is no occasion to waste time," he said one day. "You boys
have the book, so you cannot do better than well study it up, rules
and all. Then you will thoroughly know how to play cricket; all you
will want is practice."
"We shall have to study up the book, Phra," said Harry, after parting
from the doctor, "and I know it's going to be a hard job. But never
mind; when you've got to take physic, it's best to swallow it down at
once. Come along."
Phra nodded, set his teeth hard, and they went up to the palace
through the hot sunshine, to enter its cool precincts and find Phra's
room refreshing in its semi-darkness after the glare without, where
Harry said it was hot enough to frizzle up the leaves into tea.
The book was brought, cricket turned to, and they sat down side by
side with the book on the table.
"Let's begin at the beginning, and go steadily through it," proposed
Phra.
"No, no; we'll just skim it first."
"Very well. What's this--popping grease? Why do they pop grease?"
"'Tisn't! It's popping crease. 'The popping crease must be four feet
from the wicket, and exactly parallel with it.' Bother! I shan't read
any more of that. Parallel! Why, it's geometry. Look at something
else."
"'The wickets must be pitched,'" read Phra.
"What for? To keep off the wet, I suppose. No! It means pitched into
the ground, to make them stand up."
"But I say, what a lot there is to learn here, Hal. See what names
they call the players by. Here's wicket-keeper."
"That's the one who attends to the gate, I suppose."
"Short slip."
"What's he got to do?"
"I don't know.--Point."
"Oh, he's the man who keeps the stumps sharp."
"No; he must be a good catcher," cried Phra, and he went on, "'Mid
wicket--cover point--leg--long stop--long slip--long field off--long
field on--changes of position--fielding.'"
"Bother! Never mind about that," said Harry. "Look here; let's read
that bit, 'How to defend your wicket!' That ought to be interesting.
'The bifold task of the batsman.'"
Bang went the book, as Harry shut it up.
"What did you do that for?" cried Phra, staring.
"Because it makes me feel so hot and stupid. I want to learn how to
play, and that's all puzzles and problems, and what do I care when I
go to play a game about parallels and bifolds? It's too hot here to
learn cricket from books. I say, what shall we do?"
"Let's go to sleep," said Phra.
"Bah! It's too lazy."
"I don't think so," said Phra. "Every one goes to sleep here in the
middle of the day."
"No, they don't. I never do."
"Oh! I've seen you more than once when it has been very hot."
"Well, it was an accident, then. It seems so stupid to go to sleep
when it's light. Here, come along out again, and let's try and find
old Sree."
"Who's to find him? Why, he may be miles away in the jungle."
"But I want him to arrange about going up a long way in a boat. Let's
go up that little river again, and see how far we can get. Look here,
I know what we'll do. We'll start as soon as it's light, and take
plenty to eat with us, and have the next size larger boat out, with
four men to paddle and four to rest, and then we can go right on."
"You'd have Sree?"
"Of course. He knows the way everywhere. He'd take us right up the
little rivers that branch off--I mean, where no one goes. There's no
knowing what we may find up there."
"No. Sree says there are plenty of wonders; I've often longed to go."
"Then we'll go now. We ought to have done so before. I should like to
go for a week," said Harry.
"I don't think our people would like us to go for so long."
"Oh, I don't know. Let's try. I tell you what; let's have a bigger
boat, so that we can sleep on board, and a man to cook for us. Then we
can live comfortably for a few days. Why, we should get a wonderful
lot of things for the museum."
"It would be very nice," said Phra thoughtfully.
"Nice? It would be grand. Here, I shall go home and speak to my father
at once."
"Then I'll ask mine."
"He'll say yes, because he'll think he can trust us. I say, Phra, I
wish we had thought of this before."
The boys separated, and Harry did not feel the heat as he hurried home
to lay his plans before his father.
"For a week?" said Mr. Kenyon, with a look of doubt. "That's a long
time, Hal."
"Not for getting a good lot of things, father. You know, whenever
we've been up the river before, directly we have begun it has been
time to come back."
"Yes," said Mr Kenyon thoughtfully, "and if you were up the jungle
river at daybreak you would have far better chances for getting scarce
birds, and it would be a most interesting experience for you."
"Then you'll let me go, father?" cried the boy excitedly.
"I must talk the matter over with the King first."
"If he feels that you do not object, father, he is sure to say yes."
Mr. Kenyon was silent and thoughtful, looking so serious that Harry
began to lose heart.
"What are you thinking, father?" he said at last.
"That it's a long time since I had a change."
"Yes, father?"
"That I have nothing particular to do."
"Father!"
"And that the doctor has been saying that he would like to make an
expedition up the country."
"Then you think--"
"Yes, Hal, I do think that I should like for the doctor and me to join
in your trip. It would only necessitate a larger boat."
"Oh," cried Harry excitedly, "that would be splendid."
"Better than you two alone?" said Mr. Kenyon quietly.
"A hundred times better, father. But think of that!"
"Think of what?" said Mr. Kenyon.
"Doctor Cameron putting us off day after day because he had not time
to teach us cricket, when he can find time to go up the country."
Mr. Kenyon smiled.
"My dear boy," he said, "I do not wonder at his putting you off.
Cricket is not a very attractive game at this time of year, in a
country like this."
"Never mind the cricket," cried Harry. "Look here, father, will you
go?"
"I am very much tempted to say yes."
"Say it then, father. I say, you'd take Mike, wouldn't you?"
"Certainly; he would be very useful."
"Here, I must go and tell Phra."
"There is no need; here he comes."
For the lad was crossing the garden, and as Harry met him with his
face lit up with excitement, Phra's countenance was dark and dejected.
"It's all over, Hal," he said. "My father says it is out of the
question for us to go alone."
"He said that?" cried Harry.
"Yes, and that if your father and Doctor Cameron were going too it
would be different."
"They are going too, lad," cried Harry, slapping him on the shoulder.
"They--your father and Mr. Cameron?"
"Yes; isn't it splendid?"
"Here, I must go back at once," cried Phra, and, regardless of the
heat, he set off at a trot.
Harry returned to the museum, where his father was seated.
"Where's Phra?" said the latter.
"Gone back to tell the King."
"To tell him what?"
"He said that it was out of the question for us two boys to go upon
such an expedition alone."
"I expected as much."
"But if you and the doctor had been going, it would have been
different."
"Indeed?"
"Yes, father. Poor old chap! he did look disappointed, till I told him
that you two were going, and he has gone to tell the King."
"Tut--tut--tut!" muttered Mr. Kenyon. "What a rash, harem-scarem
fellow you are! You shouldn't have taken all I said for granted, sir.
Even if I fully make up my mind, we don't know that Doctor Cameron
would be able to leave."
"But you said, father--"
"I said--you said--look here, sir, you are far too hasty. The doctor
only said he thought he should go."
"That's enough, father," said Harry, laughing. "As soon as he hears
that there is going to be such an expedition, do you think he will not
manage to go with it?"
"Well, I must say I should be surprised if he did not come."
"So should I, father. I say, it will be capital. The King is sure to
say yes now, and we can have the pick of his boats, and which men we
like. I say, I wonder whether we can get a man who will find old Sree,
because we ought to start to-morrow morning."
"Stuff! Rubbish!" cried Mr. Kenyon, laughing. "If we get off in a
week, we shall do well. But I think I will go. I should be very glad
of a change. So you may go and see the doctor and chat the matter over
with him--not telling him that we are going, but that we are thinking
of such a trip. You can then hear what he says about it."
"Go now, father?"
"If you like."
Harry did like, and was off at once, to find Mrs. Cameron under the
tree, as he had seen her on that terrible day, but with the doctor
seated back in another long cane-seated chair, fast asleep.
"Doctor not well?" said Harry, after the customary salute.
"Not at all well, Harry," said Mrs. Cameron, with a sigh. "He has been
working too hard lately over his native patients, and he is quite done
up. He must have a change."
"That's what I've come about," said Harry excitedly, and he told her
what was proposed.
"I should not like losing him for a week, but I think it would do him
a great deal of good."
"Quite set me up, dear," said the doctor, opening his eyes.
"Did you hear what I was saying, Doctor?" cried Harry wonderingly.
"Pretty well every word, my boy. It will be the very thing for me, for
I am completely fagged. A long ride day after day up the river will be
rest and refreshment. But I can't take you, my dear."
"I shall not mind, Duncan," said his wife. "Nothing could be better.
Yes, you must go."
He sat up, and then sank back again, closing his eyes.
"It is of no use to fight against it, Mary," he said sadly. "I am
doctor enough to thoroughly grasp all my symptoms. I really am
overdone, and there is nothing for it but to try change--such a change
as this. I wish it did not look like going for a thorough holiday and
leaving you behind. It does not seem right."
"You will make me unhappy if you talk like this," cried Mrs. Cameron.
"How can you think I should be so selfish as to mind your doing what
is for your health?"
"It will do him good, Mrs. Cameron," said Harry, who was not enjoying
the scene.
"Of course," she cried. "You may go back and tell Mr. Kenyon that the
doctor will be delighted to make one of the party, for he wants a
change badly."
"Look here, Harry; I don't think I ought to go," said the doctor.
"He ought, Harry, and he shall," cried his wife. "You take that
message."
"Harry, lad, this is a horrible piece of tyranny. I am not very well,
and my oppressor treats me like this. But there, it is of no use to
protest, so I give in. I'll come."
Full of excitement, the boy hurried back to the bungalow to announce
the result of his visit, his father hearing him silently to the end,
and then looking so serious that Harry asked anxiously what it meant.
"This is very disappointing, my boy," said Mr. Kenyon. "After you had
gone I began to be in hopes that the doctor would not go, and now he
says he will."
"Yes, that he will, father."
"Then I suppose we shall have to go. I don't know, though: there is
another chance, the King may refuse to sanction the journey, and of
course you would not care to go without Phra."
"Well, no," said Harry, in a hesitating way; "it would not seem fair
to go without him. Ah, here he is.--Well, what does he say?"
"That he thinks it will be a very interesting trip, and that he wishes
he could leave all the cares and worries of his affairs and come with
us.--My father says, Mr. Kenyon, that you are to choose whichever boat
will be best for the journey, and select as many men as you think
necessary, and store the boat with everything you want."
"Then this means going," said Mr. Kenyon.
"Of course, father. Shall we start to-morrow?"
"Can we be ready?"
"Can we be ready?" cried Harry scornfully. "What do you say, Phra?"
"Oh yes, we can be ready, only what about Sree?"
"I forgot old Sree!" cried Harry. "We must have him, and he's
somewhere up the jungle."
"Yes," said his father, "we must have him with us; so I take it that
we may make all our preparations, but do not start till Sree returns."