RALPH DENHAM'S ADVENTURES
IN BURMA
[Illustration: A groan burst from the white lips of the men as the
seething ruin that had been their home for so many weeks disappeared
slowly from view (_p. 43_).]
RALPH DENHAM'S
ADVENTURES IN BURMA
_A TALE OF THE BURMESE JUNGLE_
BY
G. NORWAY
AUTHOR OF "TREGARTHEN," "A DANGEROUS CONSPIRATOR,"
"LOSS OF JOHN HUMBLE," ETC.
[Illustration: decoration]
LONDON
SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON & CO., LTD.
PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN BY PURNELL AND SONS
PAULTON, SOMERSET, ENGLAND
CONTENTS
CHAP. PAGE
I. RALPH STARTS UPON HIS VOYAGE 7
II. A GALE 19
III. FIRE AT SEA 33
IV. THE RAFT 44
V. ADRIFT ON THE OCEAN 52
VI. THE DENHAMS AT HOME 60
VII. MOULMEIN 69
VIII. KIRKE ESCAPES 78
IX. NEWS FROM RALPH 87
X. THE LEOPARD 96
XI. WHAT BEFELL KIRKE AFTER HIS ESCAPE 104
XII. THE KAREN VILLAGE 113
XIII. THE MAN-EATER 122
XIV. TATTOOING 132
XV. THE OLD MEN'S FAITH 141
XVI. BIG GAME 149
XVII. THE JUNGLE FIRE 157
XVIII. THE DACOIT'S HEAD 166
XIX. LOST IN THE JUNGLE 175
XX. JUNGLE THIEVES 184
XXI. THE RAPIDS 196
XXII. KIRKE AND DENHAM MEET 204
XXIII. FIGHT WITH DACOITS 213
XXIV. THE DACOITS BURN THE VILLAGE 222
XXV. DESPERATION 229
XXVI. SUNSHINE'S HEROISM 239
XXVII. CONCLUSION 248
RALPH DENHAM'S ADVENTURES
IN BURMA
CHAPTER I
RALPH STARTS UPON HIS VOYAGE
Mrs. Denham sat in her parlour, a two years old baby boy asleep upon her
lap, and an anxious, mournful expression upon her face. She wore the
dress of a widow,--a dress so new in its folds that it was evidently but
a short time since the Dread Messenger had paused at her threshold to
bear away its master and bread-winner.
The room was a shabby one; the fire but a handful of dusty ashes; rain
fell without in the dreary street; it was growing dusk, and a
soul-depressing cry of "Want chee-e-ep? Do ye want chee-e-eps?" arose
ever and anon, as the ragged Irish chip boy wandered up and down.
It was a street of cheap houses in the suburbs of Liverpool, where the
misery of poor gentility is perhaps more without alloy than in any other
town.
But the door burst open, and a bright-faced, rosy, blue-eyed boy
entered, with the freshness of out-of-doors upon him.
"All alone, mother?" said he. "Where's Agnes? Where are the little ones?
Why, what a scurvy fire you have! let me cheer it up a little."
He began piling lumps of coal upon the embers in a scientific manner, to
which a blaze quickly responded; when he swept up the hearth, and
uttered an exclamation of satisfaction as he bent to kiss his mother's
face.
"It requires a man to make up a fire," said he. "Where are all the
others?"
"Agnes is giving the little ones their tea in the kitchen," replied Mrs.
Denham. "I asked her to keep them out of the way for a while, because I
want to talk to you, Ralph dear."
"All right, mother mine, fire away," said the boy, throwing himself down
on the hearthrug, and resting one arm upon her knee.
"Ralph dear," resumed she, "your uncle Sam has come home; he has been
here this afternoon."
"Uncle Sam? How jolly! When did the _Pelican_ come in, mother? I did not
know that she was even off Holyhead."
"The _Pelican_ was docked last night, dear, upon the evening tide," said
she; "and your uncle has been here a long time this afternoon."
"Was he not very sorry to hear about father?" asked Ralph in a low
voice.
"Yes, dear; but he was prepared for the news by my last letter. He is a
very kind brother; he has been giving my affairs his careful
consideration all the way home, and has already offered some prospect of
help; but this depends upon you, Ralph."
"Upon _me_, mother? I would be so proud to help. You may reckon upon me;
but what can I do?"
"What it is a bitter pill for me to swallow, my boy, yet it would be
such a help that I do not know how to refuse it."
"What is it, mother?"
"It is for you to go out to Burma, dear. When my last letter reached
him, and he knew of your father's hopeless state of health, Uncle Sam
secured for you the chance of a situation in a rice firm in Rangoon. He
says that there would be a salary at once, upon which you could live
with care, and which would soon improve into something much better, and
into a position from which, in a few years, you might help one of your
brothers. It is not in the house of Herford Brothers,--I wish it
were,--but, as he sails for them, he will often see you, and bring us
home news of you. It would not be as if you went to quite a strange
place, where you would know nobody; and, Ralph, it would be an immense
relief even to have your keep off my hands just at present. Dear Agnes
maintains herself by her teaching; Lisa's scholarship provides for her
education; and if you, my darling boy, were not here we might double up
closer and spare another room for a second lodger, which would be a
great help to me. But I do not know how to part with you, Ralph, my
boy,--my dear, dear boy!"
The poor lady bent her face down upon the curly, tousled head at her
knee, and wept sorrowfully.
Ralph passed his arm round her neck in silence, for tumultuous emotion
choked him, and he could not speak at first. There had been a time, not
so long before, when he would have been wild with delight at the thought
of leaving school, going abroad, seeing new countries, being
independent. But recent events had sobered his spirits and made him more
thoughtful.
He pondered the scheme now without excitement or selfish pleasure; he
tried to think whether it would be well for his mother were he to leave
her. It seemed to him that it would be so.
"Mother," said he, "it is not as if Agnes were not older than I. Agnes
is seventeen, and a companion to you, while I am not old enough to take
father's place with Jack and Reggie. They would not attend to me nor
obey me."
"No, dear."
"Then when father was dying he bade me do my best to help you, and I
promised that I would. If this is the best for you, mother, I _must_ do
it."
There was a manly ring in his voice as he said this, echoing so plainly
the sound of the voice that was gone, that his mother almost felt as if
it were her husband speaking to her in her son.
They sat silent for a long time, hand clasped in hand; then the sleeping
child awoke, and recalled Mrs. Denham to her busy life.
"Uncle Sam is coming back to supper, and wants to talk to you about
this," said she.
"I will go out for a walk, to think it all over, if you don't mind,
mother; I will come in again by supper time," said the boy.
"Do, dear; it is not a plan that should be carried out in a hurry," said
she. And Ralph took up his cap and went out.
He strolled aimlessly up one street, down another, his hands in his
pockets and eyes fixed on the ground; then, with sudden determination,
he changed his purposeless steps towards the town, and steadily pursued
his road to meet his uncle.
So rapidly did he walk now, that he reached the lodging to which Captain
Rogers always repaired when on shore just as he was emerging from the
door.
"Halloa, my son!" called out the sailor in Cornish accents, "whither so
fast?"
"I came to meet you, uncle. Mother has been telling me of your plan for
me, and I wanted to talk to you about it while we could be alone."
"Ay, that's right. Men can settle things between themselves better than
when there is a lot of soft-hearted women by, to cry over the Lord knows
what. You are 'most a man now, Ralph. How you have grown since I've been
away! How old are you now?"
"Fifteen, uncle. Fifteen and a half."
"Too old to be lopping about at your mother's apron strings. Old enough
to be of some use and good, are you not?"
"Is this plan of use, uncle? Do you really think it would be good for
mother?"
"Well, sonnie, to speak the plain truth I don't see no other way in
which you are half as likely to keep off her hands. They are full
enough, Ralph, without a great hearty fellow like you to be eating her
out of house and home."
"That is so, uncle."
"I think that the Herfords would give you a free voyage out. I believe
that I could work it so that they would. If they will, you cost her
nothing more from this time. Agnes is a sensible maid, she can look
after your mother better than you can. I will pay her rent for her, and
take Jack to sea with me as soon as he is old enough; and then with a
lodger or two, and the bit of money that she has, she may do fairly
well. Be a man, Ralph, and do your part."
"I will, uncle, God helping me."
"Well said. But now, look here, there must be no chopping and changing;
no crying out that you are homesick, or don't like it, and want to come
back again. If you make up your mind to go, there must be some expense
incurred for your outfit; and I'll not help unless you give me your word
of honour that this shall be _all_ that you mean to cost us. If I launch
you, you must sail away on your own account, and make the best of
matters however they may turn out. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, uncle. Is it necessary to give my answer now, this evening, or may
I sleep upon it?"
"I don't mind your sleeping upon it, as you call it, but I must have
your answer almost at once, because I must see Mr. Herford about your
passage, and your kit must be got ready."
"I will tell you to-morrow, uncle."
"Mind you do. Mr. Herford goes from home at the end of the week, and I
don't know how long he may be away. It would hurry everything up too
closely to wait till he returns, when all the _Pelican's_ cargo will be
in course of loading, and everything else to settle."
Captain Rogers had intended to make the evening pleasant to his sister
and her young folks, but fate was too strong for him on that occasion.
Mrs. Denham's eyes were full of tears, and she kept silence as the only
way to prevent their overflow. Agnes was little better, and the
repressed agitation of their elders checked all the younger ones'
chatter.
He went away early; but Ralph would not talk to any of them even when
his uncle had left them. He went to his room, and spent the night in
thinking, thinking, thinking; trying to make out what his father would
have wished,--what was best for his mother,--where his strongest duty
lay.
At last he took to prayer; and, for the first time in his young life,
really sought help and counsel from his Father in heaven. Such seeking
is never unanswered; he slept, woke up clear in his mind as to what he
ought to do, and told his uncle that he would go.
"You decide rightly," said his uncle. "People cannot very often do just
what they would like best. If I could, I would have got you a start in
life nearer home, so that your mother might keep you to be a comfort to
her; but she will not mind so much when you are once gone, and you will
sooner be of real use to her and to your brothers in this way than in
any other which any of us can command. But, remember, you must take life
as it comes, and work hard for yourself once you are started."
"I will, uncle, God helping me."
"Well said, my boy."
After that, all was hurry to prepare him for this important change in
his life; his mother cried incessantly; his sister Agnes went about with
red eyes, which could scarcely see the stitches that she set in his
clothes; his uncle drove him about hither and thither; there was no time
to think until the adieux were all made, and they had been towed out of
dock.
The _Pelican of the North_ was a barque-rigged, three-masted vessel,
laden with coal for Moulmein; and the day was bright when she dropped
down the river Mersey. The crew were in good spirits, for the weather,
which had been extremely dull and wet for some weeks, cleared up
suddenly on the day of sailing. The chilly wind had veered into a balmy
quarter, the drenching rain ceased, the sun broke out, and all the
little tossing waves seemed to be dancing with joy to see its beams
sparkling upon their crests. Great masses of clouds were driving away,
farther and farther, overhead, losing their heavy grey colour, and fast
becoming soft and snowy white; while the flocks of seagulls, swooping
about upon widespread pinions high in the air, might be imagined to be
fleecy morsels detached from them on their course, so pure and silvery
was their plumage.
Ralph stood by the capstan, looking back to the fort and lighthouse on
the New Brighton Point with mixed feelings.
He had never been farther away from home than this before; he was now
setting off for an unknown life in a new country, among strangers, to
make his own way as best he could.
He was pleased with his independence, with the thought that he was thus
helping his mother; but he had not imagined how love for his home would
tug at his heart-strings. It was not until he had felt his mother's
farewell kiss, and heard her choked voice blessing him for the last
time; it was not until his dearly-loved companion-sister Agnes had
sobbed her good-bye on his shoulder; not till he had put the pretty baby
back into his nurse's arms, and thought what a great boy he would be
before he should, in all probability, see him again,--that he realised
how far away he was going, and going alone.
But Ralph owned plenty of pluck; he meant to be brave, and to get on in
his new career, so he gulped down these thoughts, and turned to brighter
considerations.
His uncle had secured for him a free passage out to Rangoon by entering
him as apprentice upon the ship's books.
This is an arrangement occasionally made, by favour, in merchant ships
not registered for carrying passengers. The so-called apprentice would
hold rather an anomalous position, being expected to do a little light
work, particularly while in port, but messing with the captain at sea.
A hardy lad would have little of which to complain in the light of the
great pecuniary advantage to himself, but it would depend largely upon
his own tact, and also much upon the characters of the regular
apprentices and the mates, as to whether he were, or were not,
thoroughly comfortable upon a long voyage.
Captain Rogers had another passenger upon this occasion, a Mr.
Gilchrist.
Mr. Augustus Herford, the head of the firm of Herford Brothers, to which
the _Pelican of the North_ belonged, was devoted to his garden; and
orchids were his reigning hobby. The craze for these flowers was then
in its infancy, many varieties being unknown at that time which have
since become common. Burma was comparatively little explored, nor were
its forests and jungles haunted by collectors as they have been of late
years.
Mr. Gilchrist was a self-made man, an enthusiast in his profession as
gardener, but more capable than rich. He had educated himself, studied
at Kew, mastered much of the science of horticulture,--but lacked
capital, and wanted to marry. When, therefore, Mr. Augustus Herford
offered him advantageous terms if he would go to Burma and collect
orchids for him, he accepted the commission with eagerness, knowing well
that, if he succeeded, his prosperity upon his return would be assured.
Mr. Herford was rich; he spared no expense over microscopes, books,
collecting boxes, and all the properties for the expedition, and gave
him a free passage out.
The _Pelican of the North_ was bound for Moulmein with coal,--would then
go to Rangoon in ballast, and return laden with rice. She was towed as
far as to the floating lightship; there the steam-tug cast off, and the
voyage was fairly begun.
By that time Mr. Gilchrist was down upon his marrow-bones, most horribly
sick. He was a delicate man, and suffered terribly. Ralph was also ill,
but his uncle encouraged him to struggle against the malady, and the
other apprentices ridiculed him so unmercifully as a land-lubber, that
he made every effort to keep up, and this with good effect, for he was
soon upon his feet again, with a furious appetite even for salt junk and
fat pork.
Then, in his good-nature, feeling heartily for a fellow-sufferer, he
began to wait upon Mr. Gilchrist, nursing him and tending him well.
It would have been better for this gentleman had he possessed the same
strong reasons for exertion as his young companion; he would perhaps
have suffered less. As it was, he was ill for nearly a fortnight; and,
the weather being uncertain, Captain Rogers and the mates were glad to
be relieved from the necessity of attending upon him, having quite
enough to do with sailing the ship.
By degrees Mr. Gilchrist recovered; and, grateful for Ralph's care of
him, he then lent him books, talked to him about them, encouraging him
to learn many things and improve himself.
Captain Rogers was pleased that his nephew should receive such notice
from so clever a man. He had not much education himself outside of his
own business, but was shrewd, and entertained a great respect for what
he called "book learning."
"It is very kind of you, Gilchrist," said he one evening, sitting with
his passenger over their coffee,--"It is very kind of you to
indoctrinate that lad as you are doing. It has been hard upon him to be
cast upon his beam ends so early in life. His father was a well-read
man, and might have given him good schooling had he lived, but my poor
sister could not afford it when she was left with so many of them."
"It is an amusement," replied Mr. Gilchrist. "It helps me to pass the
time pleasantly, I assure you. I like the boy much, he is very
intelligent."
"He is a good sort of fellow," said the captain. "I hope he will get on.
But we must be careful not to set him up too much, so as to make the
other apprentices jealous of him. I have my doubts of that Kirke. I hate
your gentlemen apprentices; they are always more trouble than profit.
That one is not worth his salt."
"Is he a gentleman's son, then?"
"Aye. His father is a friend of my boss; the lad is sent to sea because
they can do nothing with him at home, but I wish they had put him in any
other ship than this one."
"Is it usual for a gentleman to send his son to sea in the merchant
service?" asked Mr. Gilchrist.
"I wish it either were more usual or less," replied the captain. "I hate
having them. It always means stupidity, idleness or scampishness; and,
whichever it may be, they are no good. If a lad cannot keep his own
natural position in life it does not prevent him from having big ideas
of himself after coming down to another; and if he gets into ugly
scrapes as a gentleman, he will get into uglier ones when the restraint
upon him is less."
"You have much experience in boys and men, Rogers."
"Ah! I have--with a certain class of boys and men. Now and then one
finds a lad who can work with his hands when he cannot with his head,
and who tries to do his best; but good seamen need to use their brains
as well as other folks if they are to get on. Such youngsters come to us
too late. Their friends don't send them until they have tried everything
else and failed. The hardships of our life fall five times as heavily
upon them as upon a lad who belongs to a hardier class and has begun
earlier. Kirke is not one of that sort; I misdoubt me but what there
will be trouble with him before this voyage is over."
"Well, the weather seems to have taken up a better humour at last. We
seem to have got out of that circle of squalls through which we have
been making our way."
"Yes," said the captain. "We are coming in for a quieter season, if it
only lasts. I wish the voyage was over, though. My wife took up a
superstitious notion that we should have trouble over it. She had a
dream or something which impressed her with that idea; and though I
laughed at her, I cannot forget it altogether. Do you believe in
warnings and presentiments?"
"I suppose there are few men who could say with truth that they
disbelieve in them entirely, but I have seen so many come to nought that
I do not entertain much faith in them."
"Ah! well," said the captain, finishing his cup, and rising to leave the
cabin, "I suppose I am an old fool to heed such things. I don't see
where mischief is to crop up unless through that lad, and he may turn
out better than I fear. Good-night, Mr. Gilchrist."
"Good-night."