"Jaga biak, biak, Tuan (be careful, Tuan), pirates!"
I recognized Aboo Din's voice, and I checked myself just as my feet
came in contact with a broken beer bottle.
The entire surface of the little deck was strewn with glittering
star-shaped points that corresponded with the fragments before me.
I had not a moment to investigate, however, for in the gloom, where
the bow of the launch touched the foliage-meshed bank, a scene of
wild confusion was taking place.
Shadowy forms were leaping, one after another, from the branches above
on to the deck. I slowly cocked my revolver, doubting my senses,
for each time one of the invaders reached the deck he sprang into
the air with the long, thrilling cry of pain that had awakened me,
and with another bound was on the bulwarks and over the side of the
launch, clinging to the railing.
With each cry, Baboo's mocking voice came out, shrill and exultant,
from behind a pile of life-preservers. "O Allah, judge the dogs. They
would kris the great Tuan as he slept--the pariahs!--but they forgot
so mean a thing as Baboo!"
The smell of warm blood filled the air, and a low snarl among the
rubber-vines revealed the presence of a tiger.