LIKE A BAD SHILLING
When they quitted the hospital room, Harry and Phra threw themselves
down on one of the long bamboo seats in the hall where they had left
their guns, and sat talking dejectedly in a low tone, leaving oft from
time to time for a walk out into the still night air to listen whether
there were any tokens of an approaching attack; but the place was
perfectly still; the glow from the burning tree had nearly died out,
and everything was calm and peaceful.
After a time the King and Mr. Kenyon returned from their rounds and
stopped to speak to the boys for a few minutes, telling them that they
had better get a good sleep while they could, and that they had been
examining the windows at the other side of the palace, where they had
been a good deal burned.
"I'm afraid, sir, that was a mistake," said Mr. Kenyon. "It may have
suggested to the enemy a means of attacking and destroying us without
risk to themselves."
"By firing the palace," said the King gravely. "Yes. I thought of
that. It is possible, and we must be prepared. Fire is easily mastered
when it is small--a jar of water is sufficient; when it grows large,
it takes a river."
They passed on, talking together, and the boys began and continued
recalling the many expeditions they had made with Sree. What a brave
man he was! how full of knowledge of animal life in the jungle, and
how devoted to them in his simple, unostentatious manner!
"Yes, poor old Sree!" sighed Harry; "and now he's gone, and Adong
too."
"Think so?" said Phra, looking up sharply.
"Oh, yes, or he would have been back with help," replied Harry. "Phra,
old chap, I never felt so unhappy before in my life. It seems as if it
was all over now."
"But it isn't," said Phra. "There is so much for us to do."
"To help our fathers?"
"Yes."
Harry sat back in his seat and began to think seriously, for his
comrade's words had impressed him deeply, and as he sat there in the
darkness of the night it dawned upon him more and more that in life
one has to give up self for the sake of others, and that even at the
very worst, when there is a disposition to think that one's own
sorrows are everything, others have troubles and sorrows too that it
is our duty to help and combat.
They were vague, disconnected thoughts, which he could not quite put
together, but they served to make him feel less miserable, even
contented; and then he began to think of the King's words in
connection with his father's, and the possibility of the palace being
fired by the enemy.
What had the King said?--that at the beginning a fire could be
extinguished with a jar of water?
Consequently Harry sat back making up his mind that as soon as it was
light he and Phra would get the boatmen together and plant big jars
and bamboo buckets of water in the parts of the palace nearest to the
wall--in fact, wherever it seemed possible that firebrands would be
thrown in.
The natural consequence was that, being fagged out and sitting in an
uncomfortable position upon a hard-backed seat, he dropped off to
sleep and began dreaming of fire and putting it out with wooden
buckets of water which always seemed to be empty when he was about to
pour them on the flames.
And so the night wore on, without any alarm of attack, and Harry
dreaming wearily, starting into wakefulness, and dropping off again to
dream of those bottomless buckets which were always empty when they
ought to have been full.
That constantly repeated dream irritated him, for even while he
dreamed he was conscious that it was all imaginative, and that before
long he would wake up and find he was dreaming, as he did over and
over again, stiff, weary, and ready to make up his mind that he would
sleep no more. But the next minute he was off again fast, and the last
time in so deep a slumber that the sun was shining brightly when at
last he opened his eyes upon Phra seated fast asleep at the other
corner of the settee; and then turning his eyes a little to the right
as he prepared his lower jaw for a good long yawn, he sat as if turned
to stone, his mouth partly open, his eyes staring, and a horrible
feeling as of cold water running down his back.
For there, so near that he had only to sit up and stretch out his hand
to touch him, Sree was squatted upon his heels in the middle of a mat,
calmly chewing his roll of betel-nut, lime and pepper leaf, his
homely, dark face expanding into a broad smile as he saw that he was
noticed.
"Sree! Alive!" cried Harry, springing from his seat, his cry rousing
Phra, to sit up staring.
"Yes, Sahib Harry," said the old hunter quietly. "I ran round to the
back of the fire when I had pulled the ladder over and laid it with
the bamboos, and then crept in among the bushes, to lie there, for I
was nearly dead with the smoke. Then I crawled right away."
"But weren't you hurt?"
"My face scorched, and my hair burned a little, Sahib; that is all."
"Oh, I am so glad, Sree," cried Harry. "You don't--don't--know what we
felt last night."
There was a slight impediment in Harry's speech as he caught the old
hunter's right hand in both his own, an act imitated by Phra on the
instant with the left, while the old man stood now looking proud and
happy as he glanced from one to the other.
"Yes, we thought you were dead," said Phra.
"Here, let me go and tell father and the doctor," said Harry.
"No, no, Sahib," said Sree. "I saw Sahib Kenyon an hour ago, and he
sent me to you. I have been sitting here till you woke up. He said you
would be pleased."
"Pleased!" cried Harry. "There's a stupid word! That doesn't half mean
what I feel. But I say, Sree, have you had any breakfast."
"Oh, yes, Sahib; the master gave me plenty."
"Tell us more, then. How did you manage to get here?"
"Oh, I crawled along like a snake, Sahib," said Sree, smiling. "There
are many of the enemy about, but I managed to get by without being
seen while it was dark; and when the sun rose, I got up and walked
along boldly with a spear over my shoulder, just as if I was one of
the enemy, till I was opposite to the great gates where the powder is
buried. Then I came straight up to the gate, and the sahibs were going
to shoot me, for my face was so blackened by the fire and smoke that
they did not know me till I spoke. Then I gave them my spear, and
climbed over. What does Sahib Harry want me to do next?"
"Fill water pots and bamboo buckets with water, to put in the rooms at
the other side."
"Ah, yes; that is wise," said Sree. "I thought of that last night,
when I saw the windows begin to burn. A little fire can be mastered
with a jar of water."
"Hullo!" cried Harry. "Did you hear the King say that?"
"Oh, no, Sahib; we all say so, because we know how easily our boats
catch alight; and if the fire is not put out, it may mean hundreds all
along the river."
"Then we'll do that at once," said Phra; "only you must get Lahn and
the boatmen to help."
"But that's my idea, Phra," cried Harry; "I say, Sree, have you seen
Lahn?"
"Oh, yes, Sahib; he came running up, and then threw himself down to
kiss and cry over my feet."
"What did he do that for?" said Harry.
"Because he was so glad, for he thinks of me as his father."
"Now, Hal!" cried Phra; "come on; let's get the water pots put all
about at once."
"Shan't," said Hal, laughing. "I'm not going to begin till I've had my
breakfast. I'm so hungry I could eat old Sree."