NIGEL MAKES A CONFIDANT OF MOSES--UNDERTAKES A LONELY WATCH AND SEES
SOMETHING WONDERFUL.
It was not much supper that Nigel Roy ate that night. The excitement
resulting from his supposed discovery reduced his appetite seriously,
and the intense desire to open a safety-valve in the way of confidential
talk with some one induced a nervously absent disposition which at last
attracted attention.
"You vant a goot dose of kvinine," remarked Verkimier, when, having
satiated himself, he found time to think of others--not that the
professor was selfish by any means, only he was addicted to
concentration of mind on all work in hand, inclusive of feeding.
The hermit paid no attention to anything that was said. His recent
conversation had given vent to a flood of memories and feelings that had
been pent-up for many years.
After supper Nigel resolved to make a confidant of Moses. The negro's
fidelity to and love for his master would ensure his sympathy at least,
if not wise counsel.
"Moses," he said, when the professor had raised himself to the seventh
heaven by means of tobacco fumes, "come with me. I want to have a
talk."
"Das what I's allers wantin', Massa Nadgel; talkin's my strong point, if
I hab a strong point at all."
They went together to the edge of a cliff on the hill-top, whence they
could see an almost illimitable stretch of tropical wilderness bathed in
a glorious flood of moonlight, and sat down.
On a neighbouring cliff, which was crowned with a mass of grasses and
shrubs, a small monkey also sat down, on a fallen branch, and watched
them with pathetic interest, tempered, it would seem, by cutaneous
irritation.
"Moses, I am sorely in need of advice," said Nigel, turning suddenly to
his companion with ill-suppressed excitement.
"Well, Massa Nadgel, you _does_ look like it, but I'm sorry I ain't a
doctor. P'r'aps de purfesser would help you better nor--"
"You misunderstand me. Can you keep a secret, Moses?"
"I kin try--if--if he's not too diffikilt to keep."
"Well, then; listen."
The negro opened his eyes and his mouth as if these were the chief
orifices for the entrance of sound, and advanced an ear. The distant
monkey, observing, apparently, that some unusual communication was about
to be made, also stretched out its little head, cocked an ear, and
suspended its other operations.
Then, in low earnest tones, Nigel told Moses of his belief that Van der
Kemp's daughter might yet be alive and well, and detailed the recent
conversation he had had with his master.
"Now, Moses; what d'ye think of all that?"
Profundity unfathomable sat on the negro's sable brow as he replied,
"Massa Nadgel, I don't bery well know _what_ to t'ink."
"But remember, Moses, before we go further, that I tell you all this in
strict confidence; not a word of it must pass your lips."
The awful solemnity with which Nigel sought to impress this on his
companion was absolutely trifling compared with the expression of that
companion's countenance, as, with a long-drawn argumentative and
remonstrative _Oh_! he replied:--
"Massa Nadgel. Does you really t'ink I would say or do any mortal t'ing
w'atsumiver as would injure _my_ massa?"
"I'm _sure_ you would not," returned Nigel, quickly. "Forgive me,
Moses, I merely meant that you would have to be very cautious--very
careful--that you do not let a word slip--by accident, you know--I
believe you'd sooner die than do an intentional injury to Van der Kemp.
If I thought you capable of _that_, I think I would relieve my feelings
by giving you a good thrashing."
The listening monkey cocked its ear a little higher at this, and Moses,
who had at first raised his flat nose indignantly in the air, gradually
lowered it, while a benignant smile supplanted indignation.
"You're right dere, Massa Nadgel. I'd die a t'ousand times sooner dan
injure massa. As to your last obserwation, it rouses two idees in my
mind. First, I wonder how you'd manidge to gib me a t'rashin', an'
second, I wonder if your own moder would rikognise you arter you'd tried
it."
At this the monkey turned its other ear as if to make quite sure that it
heard aright. Nigel laughed shortly.
"But seriously, Moses," he continued; "what do you think I should do?
Should I reveal my suspicions to Van der Kemp?"
"Cer'nly not!" answered the negro with prompt decision. "What! wake up
all his old hopes to hab 'em all dashed to bits p'raps when you find dat
you's wrong!"
"But I feel absolutely certain that I'm _not_ wrong!" returned Nigel,
excitedly. "Consider--there is, first, the one-eyed pirate; second,
there is--"
"'Scuse me, Massa Nadgel, dere's no occasion to go all ober it again.
I'll tell you what you do."
"Well?" exclaimed Nigel, anxiously, while his companion frowned savagely
under the force of the thoughts that surged through his brain.
"Here's what you'll do," said Moses.
"Well?" (impatiently, as the negro paused.)
"We're on our way home to Krakatoa."
"Yes--well?"
"One ob our men leabes us to-morrer--goes to 'is home on de coast.
Kitch one ob de steamers dat's allers due about dis time."
"Well, what of that?"
"What ob dat! why, you'll write a letter to your fadder. It'll go by de
steamer to Batavia. He gits it long before we gits home, so dere's
plenty time for 'im to take haction."
"But what good will writing to my father do?" asked Nigel in a somewhat
disappointed tone. "_He_ can't help us."
"Ho yes, he can," said Moses with a self-satisfied nod. "See here, I'll
tell you what to write. You begin, `Dear fadder--or Dearest fadder'--
I's not quite sure ob de strengt' ob your affection. P'raps de safest
way."
"Oh! get on, Moses. Never mind that."
"Ho! it's all bery well for you to say dat, but de ole gen'leman'll mind
it. Hows'ever, put it as you t'ink best--`Dear fadder, victual your
ship; up anchor; hois' de sails, an' steer for de Cocos-Keelin' Islands.
Go ashore; git hold ob do young 'ooman called Kat'leen Hobbleben.'"
"Holbein, Moses."
"_What_! is she Moses too?"
"No, no! get on, man."
"Well, `Dearest fadder, git a hold ob her, whateber her name is, an'
carry her off body and soul, an' whateber else b'longs to her. Take her
to de town ob Anjer an' wait dere for furder orders.' Ob course for de
windin' up o' de letter you must appeal agin to de state ob your
affections, for, as--"
"Not a bad idea," exclaimed Nigel. "Why, Moses, you're a genius! Of
course I'll have to explain a little more fully."
"'Splain what you please," said Moses. "My business is to gib you de
bones ob de letter; yours--bein' a scholar--is to clove it wid flesh."
"I'll do it, Moses, at once."
"I should like," rejoined Moses, with a tooth-and-gum-disclosing smile,
"to see your fadder when he gits dat letter!"
The picture conjured up by his vivid imagination caused the negro to
give way to an explosive laugh that sent the eavesdropping monkey like a
brown thunderbolt into the recesses of its native jungle, while Nigel
went off to write and despatch the important letter.
Next day the party arrived at another village, where, the report of
their approach having preceded them, they were received with much
ceremony--all the more that the professor's power with the rifle had
been made known, and that the neighbourhood was infested by tigers.
There can be little doubt that at this part of the journey the
travellers must have been dogged all the way by tigers, and it was
matter for surprise that so small a party should not have been molested.
Possibly the reason was that these huge members of the feline race were
afraid of white faces, being unaccustomed to them, or, perchance, the
appearance and vigorous stride of even a few stalwart and fearless men
had intimidated them. Whatever the cause, the party reached the village
without seeing a single tiger, though their footprints were observed in
many places.
The wild scenery became more and more beautiful as this village was
neared.
Although flowers as a rule were small and inconspicuous in many parts of
the great forest through which they passed, the rich pink and scarlet of
many of the opening leaves, and the autumn-tinted foliage which lasts
through all seasons of the year, fully made up for the want of them--at
least as regards colour, while the whole vegetation was intermingled in
a rich confusion that defies description.
The professor went into perplexed raptures, his mind being distracted by
the exuberant wealth of subjects which were presented to it all at the
same time.
"Look zere!" he cried, at one turning in the path which opened up a new
vista of exquisite beauty--"look at zat!"
"Ay, it is a Siamang ape--next in size to the orang-utan," said Van der
Kemp, who stood at his friend's elbow.
The animal in question was a fine full-grown specimen, with long
jet-black glancing hair. Its height might probably have been a few
inches over three feet, and the stretch of its arms over rather than
under five feet, but at the great height at which it was seen--not less
than eighty feet--it looked much like an ordinary monkey. It was
hanging in the most easy nonchalant way by one hand from the branch of a
tree, utterly indifferent to the fact that to drop was to die!
The instant the Siamang observed the travellers it set up a loud barking
howl which made the woods resound, but it did not alter its position or
seem to be alarmed in any degree.
"Vat a 'straordinary noise!" remarked the professor.
"It is indeed," returned the hermit, "and it has an extraordinary
appliance for producing it. There is a large bag under its throat
extending to its lips and cheeks which it can fill with air by means of
a valve in the windpipe. By expelling this air in sudden bursts it
makes the varied sounds you hear."
"Mos' vonderful! A sort of natural air-gun! I vill shoot it," said the
professor, raising his deadly rifle, and there is no doubt that the poor
Siamang would have dropped in another moment if Van der Kemp had not
quietly and gravely touched his friend's elbow just as the explosion
took place.
"Hah! you tooched me!" exclaimed the disappointed naturalist, looking
fiercely round, while the amazed ape sent forth a bursting crack of its
air-gun as it swung itself into the tree-top and made off.
"Yes, I touched you, and if you _will_ shoot when I am so close to you,
you cannot wonder at it--especially when you intend to take life
uselessly. The time now at the disposal of my friend Nigel Roy will not
permit of our delaying long enough to kill and preserve large specimens.
To say truth, my friend, we must press on now, as fast as we can, for
we have a very long way to go."
Verkimier was not quite pleased with this explanation, but there was a
sort of indescribable power about the hermit, when he was resolved to
have his way, that those whom he led found it impossible to resist.
On arriving at the village they were agreeably surprised to find a grand
banquet, consisting chiefly of fruit, with fowl, rice, and Indian corn,
spread out for them in the Balai or public hall, where also their
sleeping quarters were appointed. An event had recently occurred,
however, which somewhat damped the pleasure of their reception. A young
man had been killed by a tiger. The brute had leaped upon him while he
and a party of lads were traversing a narrow path through the jungle,
and had killed him with one blow of its paw. The other youths
courageously rushed at the beast with their spears and axes, and,
driving it off, carried the body of their comrade away.
"We have just buried the young man," said the chief of the village, "and
have set a trap for the tiger, for he will be sure to visit the grave."
"My friends would like to see this trap," said the hermit, who, of
course, acted the part of interpreter wherever they went, being well
acquainted with most of the languages and dialects of the archipelago.
"There will yet be daylight after you have finished eating," said the
chief.
Although anxious to go at once to see this trap, they felt the propriety
of doing justice to what had been provided for them, and sat down to
their meal, for which, to say truth, they were quite ready.
Then they went with a large band of armed natives to see this curious
tiger-trap, the bait of which was the grave of a human being!
The grave was close to the outskirts of the village, and, on one side,
the jungle came up to within a few yards of it. The spot was surrounded
by a strong and high bamboo fence, except at one point where a narrow
but very conspicuous opening had been left. Here a sharp spear was so
arranged beside the opening that it could be shot across it at a point
corresponding with the height of a tiger's heart from the ground--as
well, at least, as that point could be estimated by men who were pretty
familiar with tigers. The motive power to propel this spear was derived
from a green bamboo, so strong that it required several powerful men to
bend it in the form of a bow. A species of trigger was arranged to let
the bent bow fly, and a piece of fine cord passed from this across the
opening about breast-high for a tiger. The intention was that the
animal, in entering the enclosure, should become its own executioner--
should commit unintentional suicide, if we may so put it.
"I have an ambition to shoot a tiger," said Nigel to Van der Kemp that
evening. "Do you think the people would object to my getting up into a
tree with my rifle and watching beside the grave, part of the night?"
"I am sure that they would not. But your watch will probably be in
vain, for tigers are uncommonly sagacious creatures and seem to me to
have exceptional powers for scenting danger."
"No matter, I will try."
Accordingly, a little before dark that evening our hero borrowed the
professor's double-barrelled rifle, being more suitable for large game
than his own gun, and sauntered with Moses down to the grave where he
ensconced himself in the branches of a large tree about thirty feet from
the ground. The form of the tree was such, that among its forks Nigel
could form a sort of nest in which he could sit, in full view of the
poor youth's grave, without the risk of falling to the ground even if he
should chance to drop asleep.
"Good-night, massa Nadgel," said Moses as he turned to leave his
companion to his solitary vigil. "See you not go to sleep."
"No fear of _that_!" said Nigel.
"An' whateber you do, don't miss."
"I'll do my best--Good-night."
While there was yet a little daylight, our hunter looked well about him;
took note of the exact position of the fence, the entrance to the
enclosure, and the grave; judged the various distances of objects, and
arranged the sights of the rifle, which was already loaded with a brace
of hardened balls. Then he looked up through the tree-tops and wished
for darkness.
It came sooner than he expected. Night always descends more suddenly in
tropical than in temperate regions. The sun had barely dipped below the
horizon when night seemed to descend like a pall over the jungle, and an
indescribable sensation of eerieness crept over Nigel's spirit. Objects
became very indistinct, and he fancied that he saw something moving on
the newly-made grave. With a startled feeling he grasped his weapon,
supposing that the tiger must have entered the enclosure with cat-like
stealth. On second thoughts, however, he discarded the idea, for the
entrance was between him and the grave, and still seemed quite visible.
Do what he would, however, the thought of ghosts insisted on intruding
upon him! He did not believe in ghosts--oh no!--had always scouted the
idea of their existence. Why, therefore, did he feel uncomfortable? He
could not tell. It must simply be the excitement natural to such a very
new and peculiar situation. He would think of something else. He would
devote his mind to the contemplation of tigers! In a short time the
moon would rise, he knew--then he would be able to see better.
While he was in this very uncomfortable state of mind, with the jungle
wrapped in profound silence as well as gloom, there broke on the night
air a wail so indescribable that the very marrow in Nigel's bones seemed
to shrivel up. It ceased, but again broke forth louder than before,
increasing in length and strength, until his ears seemed to tingle with
the sound, and then it died away to a sigh of unutterable woe.
"I have always," muttered Nigel, "believed myself to be a man of
ordinary courage, but _now_--I shall write myself a coward, if not an
ass!"
He attempted to laugh at this pleasantry, but the laugh was hollow and
seemed to freeze in his gullet as the wail broke forth again, ten times
more hideous than at first. After a time the wail became more
continuous, and the watcher began to get used to it. Then a happy
thought flashed into his mind--this was, perhaps, some sort of mourning
for the dead! He was right. The duty of the father of the poor youth
who had been killed was, for several days after the funeral, to sit
alone in his house and chant from sunset till daybreak a death-dirge,
or, as it is called, the _tjerita bari_. It was not till next day that
this was told to him, but meanwhile the surmise afforded him
instantaneous relief.
As if nature sympathised with his feelings, the moon arose at the same
time and dispelled the thick darkness, though it was not till much later
that, sailing across a clear sky, she poured her bright beams through
the tree-tops and finally rested on the dead man's grave.
By that time Nigel had quite recovered his equanimity, and mentally
blotted out the writing of "coward" and "ass" which he had written
against himself. But another trouble now assailed him. He became
sleepy! Half-a-dozen times at least within half-an-hour he started wide
awake under the impression that he was falling off the tree.
"This will never do," he exclaimed, rising to his feet, resting his
rifle in a position of safety, and then stretching himself to his utmost
extent so that he became thoroughly awake. After this "rouser," as he
called it, he sat down again, and almost immediately fell fast asleep.
How long he sat in this condition it is impossible to say, but he opened
his eyes at length with an indescribable sensation that _something_
required attention, and the first thing they rested on, (for daylight
was dawning), was an enormous tiger not forty yards away from him,
gliding like a shadow and with cat-like stealth towards the opening of
the enclosure. The sight was so sudden and so unexpected that, for the
moment, he was paralysed. Perhaps he thought it was a dream. Before he
could recover presence of mind to seize his rifle, the breast of the
animal had touched the fatal line; the trigger was drawn; the stout
bamboo straightened with a booming sound, and the spear--or, rather, the
giant arrow--was shot straight through the tiger's side!
Then occurred a scene which might well have induced Nigel to imagine
that he dreamt, for the transfixed creature bounded into the enclosure
with a terrific roar that rang fearfully through the arches of the
hitherto silent forest. Rushing across the grave, it sprang with one
tremendous bound right over the high fence, carrying the spear along
with it into the jungle beyond.
By that time Nigel was himself again, with rifle in hand, but too late
to fire. The moment he heard the thud of the tiger's descent, he slid
down the tree, and, forgetful or regardless of danger,--went crashing
into the jungle, while the yells and shouts of hundreds of aroused
natives suggested the peopling of the region with an army of fiends.
But our hero had not to go far. In his haste he almost tumbled over the
tiger. It was lying stone dead on the spot where it had fallen!
A few minutes more and the natives came pouring round him, wild with
excitement and joy. Soon he was joined by his own comrades.
"Well, you've managed to shoot him, I see," said Van der Kemp as he
joined the group.
"Alas! no. I have not fired a shot," said Nigel, with a half
disappointed look.
"You's got de better ob him anyhow," remarked Moses as he pushed to the
front.
"The spear got the better of him, Moses."
"Vell now, zat is a splendid animal. Lat me see," said the professor,
pulling out his tape-measure.
It was with difficulty that the man of science made and noted his
measurements, for the people were pressing eagerly round the carcase to
gratify their revenge by running their spears into the still warm body.
They dipped the points in the blood and passed their krisses broadside
over the creature that they might absorb the courage and boldness which
were supposed to emanate from it! Then they skinned it, and pieces of
the heart and brain were eaten raw by some of those whose relatives had
been killed by tigers. Finally the skull was hacked to pieces for the
purpose of distributing the teeth, which are used by the natives as
charms.