Chapter 6: The Attack On The Village.

A day or two later a Malay ran at full speed into the village, and

said a few words which caused a perfect hubbub of excitement. The

men shouted. The women screamed and, running up the ladders to

their tree abodes, began gathering together the various articles of

value, in their eyes. The chief came up to the boys and, by signs,

intimated that a large number of hostile natives, belonging to

several villages, were advancing to attack them; and that they must

fly into the interior.

This was very unwelcome news for the lads. Once removed farther

from the sea the tribe might, not improbably, take up their abode

there, as they would fear to return to the neighborhood of their

enemies. This would be fatal to any chance of the lads being taken

off by a passing ship. After a few words together, they determined

to oppose the movement. Will, in a loud voice and with threatening

gestures, intimated that he disapproved of the plan, and that he

and his companion would assist them in defending their village.

The Malays paused in their preparations. Their faith in their white

visitors was very great and, after a few minutes' talk among

themselves, they intimated to the boys that they would obey their

orders. Will at once signed to a few men to stand as guards round

the village, to warn them of the approaching enemy; and then set

the whole of the rest of the population to work cutting

sharp-pointed poles, boughs, and thorny bushes. With these a circle

was made around the trees upon which the village was built.

Fortunately the hostile Malays had halted in the forest, two or

three miles away, intending to make their attack by night and, as

the news of their coming had arrived at noon, the villagers had,

before they ceased work late in the evening, erected a formidable

hedge round the village.

Some of the women had been set to work manufacturing a number of

torches, similar to those used by them for lighting their

dwellings, but much larger. They were formed of the stringy bark of

a tree, dipped in the resinous juice obtained from another. Will

had one of these fastened to each of the trees nearest to the

hedge. They were fixed to the trunks on the outside, so that their

flame would throw a light on the whole circle beyond the hedge

while, within, all would be shadow and darkness.

It was very late before all preparations were completed. Will then

placed a few men as outposts, some hundred yards in the forest, in

the direction from which the enemy were likely to approach. They

were ordered to give the alarm, the moment they heard a noise; and

were then to run in and enter the circle by a small gap, which had

been left in the abbatis for the purpose. Many of the men then took

their posts, with their bows and arrows, in the trees near the

hedge. The others remained on the ground, ready to rush to any

point assailed.

For several hours no sound save the calls of the night birds, and

the occasional distant howls of beasts of prey, were heard in the

forest; and it was not until within an hour of morning--the hour

generally selected by Malays for an attack, as men sleep at that

time the heaviest--that a loud yell, at one of the outposts, told

that the enemy were close at hand.

Two or three minutes later the scouts ran in, and the gap through

which they had entered was at once filled up with bushes, which had

been piled close at hand for the purpose. Aware that their approach

was discovered, the enemy abandoned all further concealment; and

advanced with wild yells, intending to strike terror into the

defenders of the village. As they advanced the torches were all

lighted and, as the assailants came within their circle of light, a

shower of arrows from the Malays on the ground, and in the trees

above, was poured into them.

Yells and screams told that the volley had been a successful one

but, discharging their arrows in turn, the Malays, with demoniac

yells, rushed against the village. The advance, however, was

arrested suddenly when they arrived at the abbatis. From behind its

shelter, so deadly a rain of arrows was poured in that they soon

shrank back, and bounded away beyond the circle of light, while

taunting shouts rose from its defenders.

For a time they contented themselves by distant shouting; and then,

with a wild yell, charged forward again. Several dropped from the

fire of arrows, from those in the trees and behind the abbatis but,

discharging their arrows in return, the assailants kept on until

they again reached the impediment. Here they strove furiously to

break through--hacking with their krisses, and endeavoring to pull

up the stakes with their hands--but the defenders, in the shade

behind, sent their arrows so fast and thick that the assailants

again shrank back, and darted away to shelter.

Throughout the night there was no renewal of the attack and, in the

morning, not a foe was visible. Two or three scouts went out to

reconnoiter; but no sooner did they enter the forest than one of

them was shot down, and the rest sent flying back.

"I believe the scoundrels are going to try to starve us out," Will

said. "Let us speak to the chief, and ask how much provisions they

have got."

After much pantomime, Will succeeded in conveying his meaning to

the chief; and the latter at once ordered all the inhabitants to

produce their stock of food. This was unexpectedly large, and Will

thought that there was sufficient for a fortnight's consumption. He

now made signs of drinking, but the reply to this was disheartening

in the extreme. A few gourds full of water were brought forward,

and two or three of the close-woven baskets in which water is often

carried, in this country. There was, in fact, scarce enough to last

the defenders for a day. The stream from which the village drew its

supply of water was about a couple of hundred yards away;

consequently the villagers fetched up their water as they needed

it, and no one thought of keeping a store.

Will looked in dismay at the smallness of the supply.

"If they really intend to starve us out, Hans, we are done for. No

doubt they reckon on our water falling short. They would know that

it was not likely that there would be a supply here."

The natives were not slow to recognize the weak point of their

defense One or two of the men, taking water baskets, were about to

go to the stream; but Will made signs to the chief that they must

not do this. The only hope was that the enemies would draw off; but

if they saw that water was already short, they would be encouraged

to continue to beleaguer the place. Will was unable to explain his

reasons to the chief; but the latter, seeing how great was the

advantage that they had already gained, by following the counsel of

their white visitors in the matter of the hedge, acquiesced at once

in their wishes.

Will then ascended to one of the huts, and carefully reconnoitered

the whole ground. There was, he saw, at the end farthest from the

stream, a slight dip in the land extending into the forest.

Beckoning the chief to join him, he made signs that, at night, the

warriors should issue silently from the village at this point, and

make noiselessly through the wood. They would then take a wide

circuit, till they came upon the stream; and would then, working up

it, fall upon the enemy in the rear.

The chief was dubious; but Will made an imperative gesture and the

chief, in a humble manner, agreed to do as he was ordered. The day

passed slowly and, before nightfall, the supply of water was

entirely finished. Once or twice scouts had gone out, to see if the

enemy were still round the village; but returned, each time, with

the news that they were there.

The last time, just before nightfall, Will directed two or three of

them to take water buckets, and to go in the direction of the

stream; signing to them, however, to return the moment they saw

signs of the enemy. They were soon back and, as Will had expected,

the sight of the water buckets showed the enemy that the garrison

of the village were badly supplied, in that respect; and taunting

shouts arose from the woods, asking them why they did not go down

to drink.

Will felt certain that the Malays would now draw the greater part

of their number down to the side of the stream; and that there

would therefore be the more chance of the garrison making their way

out, at the other end of the village. Three hours after it was

dark, the chief mustered all his men. They were about five-and-forty,

in all. Will signed that each should take with him a water basket or

large gourd so that, in case they failed in defeating the enemy, and

breaking up the blockade, they might at least be able to bring a

supply of water into the village. Will then, with much difficulty,

explained to the chief that the old men, boys, and women remaining in

the village were, the moment they heard the sound of the attack upon

the enemy's rear, to shout and yell their loudest, and to shoot

arrows in the direction of the enemy.

A few sticks had already been pulled up at the point of the hedge

through which Will intended to make a sally, and the band now

passed noiselessly out. The chief himself led the way, the white

boys following behind him. Lying upon their stomachs, they crawled

noiselessly along down the little depression and, in ten minutes,

were well in the wood; without having met with an enemy, although

they had several times heard voices among the trees, near them.

They now rose to their feet and, making a wide detour, came down,

after a quarter of an hour's walk, upon the stream. Here the gourds

and baskets were filled; and then, keeping along by the waterside,

they continued their march. Presently they saw a number of fires,

round which many Malays were sitting. They crept noiselessly up

until within a few yards and then, with a yell, burst upon the

enemy. Numbers were cut down at once; and the rest, appalled by

this attack on their rear, and supposing that the inhabitants of

some other village must have arrived to the assistance of those

they were besieging, at once fled in all directions. Those

remaining in the village had seconded the attack by wild shouts, so

loud and continuous that their besiegers had no reason to suppose

that their number had been weakened.

For a few minutes the pursuit was kept up; then the chief recalled

his followers, with a shout. The water baskets--many of which had

been thrown down in the attack--were refilled, and the party made

their way up to the village, where they were received with shouts

of triumph.

The panic of the Malays had been, in no slight degree, caused by

the appearance of the two boys; who had purposely stripped to the

waist, and had shouted at the top of their voices as, waving the

krisses which they had borrowed, they fell upon the foe. The idea

that white devils were leagued with the enemies against them had

excited the superstitious fear of the Malays to the utmost; and

when, in the morning, scouts again sallied from the village, they

found that the enemy had entirely gone--the fact that they had not

even returned to carry off the effects which had been abandoned, in

the first panic, showing that they had continued their flight,

without stopping, to their distant villages.

The chief, like an able politician, took advantage of the

impression which his white visitors had created and, the same day,

sent off messengers to the villages which had combined in the

attack against them, saying that the white men--his guests--were

very angry; and that, unless peace was made, and a solemn promise

given that there should be no renewal of the late attempts, they

were going to lay a dreadful spell upon the villages. Women and

children would be seized by disease, and the right arms of the

warriors wither up.

This terrible threat carried consternation into the Malay villages.

The women burst into prolonged wailings, and the bravest of the men

trembled. The messenger said that the white men had consented to

abstain from using their magical powers until the following day;

and that the only chance to propitiate them was for deputations

from the villages to come in, early the next morning, with promises

of peace and offerings for the offended white men.

It was not for some time afterwards that the lads learned enough of

the language to understand what had been done; but they guessed,

from the exultation of the chief, and the signs which he made that

their late enemies would shortly come in, in an attitude of

humiliation, that he had in some way succeeded in establishing a

scare among them.

On the following morning deputations--consisting of six warriors, and

women bearing trays with fruit, birds, and other offerings--arrived at

the village. The men were unarmed. At their approach, the chief made

signs to the boys to take a seat at the foot of the principal tree; and

then, accompanied by his leading warriors, led the deputation--with much

ceremony--before them. The women placed their trays at their feet, and the

men addressed them in long speeches, and with many signs of submission.

The boys played their part well. As soon as they saw what was

required of them they signified, with an air of much dignity, that

they accepted the offerings; and then went through the ceremony of

shaking hands, solemnly, with each of the warriors. Then they made

a speech in which, with much gesticulation, they signified to the

visitors that a terrible fate would befall them, should they again

venture to meddle with the village.

Much awed and impressed, the Malays withdrew. The boys made a

selection, from the baskets of fruit, for their own eating; and

then signified, to the chief, that he should divide the rest among

the inhabitants of the village. When this was done, the boys

ascended to their tree and passed the day there quietly; the

villagers indulging in feasting, singing, and rejoicing over their

victory.

"The worst of all this is," Will said to Hans, "that the more they

reverence us, and the more useful they find us, the more anxious

they will be to keep us always with them. However, there is one

comfort: we are safe, as long as we choose to remain here; and that

is more than we could have hoped for, when we first landed from the

wreck. It is curious that the Malays, who have no hesitation in

attacking English ships, and murdering their crews, have yet a sort

of superstitious dread of us. But I suppose it is something the

same way as it was in England, in the days of the persecution of

old women as witches: they believed that, if left to themselves,

they could cast deadly spells, and yet they had no hesitation in

putting them to death. I suppose that it is something of the same

feeling, here."

For Name and Fame; Or, Through Afghan Passes · 第 6 / 22 章