THE DACOITS.
Two days later a swift river steamer dropped three travellers and
their belongings at the riverside village, and a couple of coolies
carried the baggage to a rest-house on the crest of a slope above the
wide stream.
"Me Dain," said the landlord of the rest-house, a huge, fat Chetti,
with shaven head and scantily-clothed body. "Oh, yes, sahibs, he lives
here. He has returned from the ruby-mines with much pay, and has built
himself a fine, new house. I will send a messenger for him at once."
Within half an hour Me Dain appeared, a middle-sized, powerfully-built
Burman, with a broad, flattish, good-humoured face, marked by high
cheekbones. At sight of Buck, a merry face lighted up with the widest
of smiles, and he rushed forward to greet him.
"Well, Me Dain," said Buck. "How are you getting on now?"
"Pretty good, yes, pretty good," replied Me Dain, who had picked up a
fair amount of English on his travels. "And you, and the Sahib
Haydon?"
"This is the sahib's son," said Buck, pointing to Jack, and the Burman
bent very politely.
"I am very glad to know you, Me Dain," said Jack. "My father has
spoken very well of you."
"The Sahib was always kind to the poorest and worst of his servants,"
replied the Burman. "I, Me Dain, was always glad to be of use to so
kind a master."
"Come aside with me, Me Dain," said Buck, and the whole party moved
out of earshot of the inquisitive Chetti, hanging about to hear what
passed between the sahibs and his neighbour.
In two minutes Me Dain agreed to go with them. They had no difficulty
whatever in enlisting him. Despite his monied leisure and his new
house, Me Dain was already bored by the quiet life of his native
village, where nothing happened save that a river-steamer selling
goods called once a week. He was already longing for the trail and the
camp fire, and closed without delay on the good offer Jack made him to
act as guide to the region where Mr. Haydon had been surveying Lane &
Baumann's concession.
"When we start?" asked Me Dain.
"To-morrow morning," said Jack, and the Burman grinned.
"Then we be very busy at once," he replied, and their preparations for
the march were commenced forthwith.
"Can't we manage without coolies?" said Jack, and Buck nodded.
"Best plan," said Jim Dent. "Just the four of us, and a couple of
ponies to carry the traps." And so it was decided.
The dawn of the next day saw them afoot and leaving the rest-house.
Their baggage was strapped on a couple of Burmese ponies, strong,
shapely little beasts, not more than twelve hands high, hardy as wild
boars, nimble as cats.
Me Dain marched ahead with the ponies, and the three comrades walked
behind. The Burman followed a country road which soon took them
through tall palm groves out of sight of the river, and then began to
climb upwards. They made a march of four hours, when a halt was called
on a lofty ridge, where they sat down in a little clearing to eat and
rest.
"That's the country we've got to push through," said Jim Dent, and
pointed ahead.
Jack gazed eagerly on the magnificent scene which filled the vast
outlook before him. Peak upon peak, spur upon spur, rose a vast array
of wild mountains running to the north-west, till a range of great
summits closed in the horizon.
"See that big mountain shining red over there, the one with twin
peaks?" continued Jim.
"Yes," said Jack, "I see it plainly."
"That's near upon seventy miles from here," returned Jim, "and lies in
the ruby country. That's the finest ground in the whole world for the
ruby hunter," and he swung his hand in the direction of the vast sweep
of wild hill country into which they were about to plunge.
For three days their march was quite uneventful. By day Me Dain led
them along secret ways, sometimes mule tracks, sometimes hidden
country roads, sometimes through trackless jungle where he steered a
course as straight as a ship at sea. Then, towards evening on the
third day, he rejoiced them by describing a village where he intended
to spend the night, and at the thought of fresh warm milk, eggs,
chickens, fruit, and such like provisions to be obtained there, the
four travellers made swinging headway.
Presently Me Dain pointed forward and said, "Here we are," and they
saw the slender spire of a pagoda dart above the low trees ahead. A
few steps again carried them from the forest path they were following
to a narrow track deeply printed with the hoof-marks of cattle.
"Here's the village highway," said Buck, and the Burman looked back
and grinned and nodded.
The prospect of a night in a village with an exchange of gossip, a
thing so dear to the Burman heart, put speed into his heels. He
trotted forward, and the baggage ponies broke into a trot also. Jack,
eager to see every new sight on the march through this strange and
wonderful land, ran after him, and the two others came leisurely
behind. Me Dain vanished round a bend in the path, and, almost as he
did so, gave a wild cry.
Jack bounded forward and gave a gasp of astonishment at the
extraordinary sight before him. Four little men, clothed in blue, had
leapt upon Me Dain from the bushes which lined the way. The powerful
Burman was fighting desperately, and the ponies had run on ahead. But
the four assailants were too much for him. They beset him on every
side, clutching him, grappling with him like four wolves pulling down
a deer. But even as Jack came into sight, the strangers had mastered
Me Dain, and in a second he was dragged to the ground. With incredible
speed and quickness they flung loops of rope around ankles and
wrists, ran them taut, and made the Burman a prisoner. Then two of
them dropped on Me Dain's legs and arms, and the third seized his hair
and dragged his head forward. The fourth leapt a pace back as nimbly
as a panther, and swung up a short, broad, heavy sword.
It had all taken place so quickly that Jack had barely jerked his
Mauser pistol from his holster when all was ready for the decapitation
of their guide. But as the gleaming blade flashed above the head of
the little man in blue, Jack laid the muzzle true for his ribs and
pulled the trigger. The heavy bullet tore its way through the
headsman's body, and with a wild cry he pitched forward on the
captive's prostrate form. His three companions vanished into the
jungle beside them as Jack ran forward. He did not dare to fire at
them, for he might have struck Me Dain. Not one of them rose, but
darted away along the ground like four-footed creatures, and just as
nimbly. Jack whipped out his knife and slashed the bonds across; the
Burman at once leapt to his feet. As he did so, the other two ran up,
pistol in hand.
"An attack!" cried Buck. "What's this game? Why, it's a Kachin. You
dropped him, Jack?"
"Yes," said Jack, "he was going to lop Me Dain's head off with this
sword."
Jim picked the blade up and looked at it carefully.
"A Kachin _dah_ (native sword)," he said. "Did you see any more of
them about, Jack?"
"Yes, there were four; three of them have cut into the jungle."
"Come on, sahibs," cried Me Dain, who was very little disturbed by his
queer experience, "this dangerous place to stop. Perhaps they come
back with _jingals_ (native guns)."
"What do you make of it, Me Dain?" said Buck.
"Dacoits, sahib, dacoits; let us hurry. That man is dead," pointing to
his would-be executioner, "but plenty more in the forest." He seized
the _dah_ as a weapon for himself, and all four hurried after the
ponies, who had come to a stand fifty yards farther along the narrow
way.
"Queer business, dacoits so near a village," muttered Jim. "Let's see
what the headman has got to say about it."