CHAPTER VII

MOULMEIN

Ralph was sitting, languid and feeble, in a long chair in front of the

hospital, where he had lain ill for some weeks.

The hospital was a mile or two inland from Moulmein; a comfortable

place, but Ralph was weary of it. Everything had a parched, burnt-up

appearance; the little pagodas, to be seen on the surrounding hills,

were all alike; the punkah was working, yet there seemed to be no air to

breathe; nothing suggested freshness, or gave him a start towards

recovery.

A grove of palm trees rose majestically on one hand, interspersed with

tamarinds, and trees of strange form covered with brilliant flowers.

Along the road came a girl in native dress, carrying a huge basket of

roses, on her way to sell them in the bazaar. She had the flowers of a

white, purple-striped orchid nestled coquettishly in the coils of her

hair; and was smoking a huge green cheroot.

Then a long procession of yellow-robed "phoongyees," or monks, came by;

each clasping his lacquered begging-bowl, and staring before him into

vacancy, with rapt concentration of thought.

An open carriage appeared. "Come along, Denham," cried Mr. Gilchrist

from it, "the doctor orders a drive for you, and we will go out to the

Battery Point, to see whether there is not a breath of air to be met

with there."

"It will be very nice if there is," said Ralph; "this place is like a

furnace. Is it always as hot as this here, Mr. Gilchrist?"

"Not always. The rains are at hand; after that it will be cooler."

They drove out to the Point, watching the native boats, light,

square-sailed, fitted with thatched houses, rowed with great difficulty

against the stream, by men standing, instead of sitting, to row.

They looked out over Washing Head Island, with its pagoda mounting guard

over the Holy Well, whence, it is said, is drawn the water in which the

king once a year cleanses his sacred head.

It was a pleasant evening, and Ralph felt its refreshment.

"I am very anxious," he said presently,--"I am very anxious to get quite

well; for, unless I can get something to do, it will be 'up a tree' for

me. I don't know how I am to pay all the expenses I am costing now, or

to get a new outfit, or earn my living at all. I lie and fret dreadfully

about this."

"You have not been yet in a fit state to bear much talking," replied Mr.

Gilchrist, "or I would have relieved your mind. Your uncle wrote to me

before he sailed for home, desiring me to let you want for nothing.

Herford Brothers are disposed to be very liberal; and the captain's

possessions, at least, were insured. Compensation will, I believe, be

made to you; and there is little doubt but what this will take the form

of a clerkship in the Rangoon house--a much better thing than the place

you have lost. Your luck will be great if you get a berth in that house,

for it is quite the first in the trade. But, Ralph, this must await

letters from England. I also must await the replies from home, for all

my scientific apparatus must be replaced there, and sent out to me; in

the meantime the Rangoon house makes itself responsible for our

expenses."

"It is very liberal of the Messrs. Herford," said Ralph. "I have no

claim whatever on them."

"That I dispute," replied his friend. "You did your share of work for

your passage, and did it so well and willingly that it quite entitled

you to a claim upon them, for they made the agreement to let you go on

those terms. You have suffered nobly; never a complaint whatever the

hardships, for which you never bargained. You have lost everything you

possess in their ship; and, besides all this, what can we not say of

your attention to me, nursing me day and night, as you have done so

kindly, and which was certainly not in the letter of your agreement. I

am not ungrateful, my boy."

"You have been so kind to me, sir, teaching me, and all that. One would

have been a brute to do less."

"Well, that is your way of putting it; mine is not exactly the same.

But, Ralph, I am feeling better than I have done for years. This climate

suits me, and will, I hope, suit you now that you have taken the turn. I

will tell you what my plan is for you. I want you to go with me upon my

orchid-hunting expedition. It will give your brain a rest, and set you

up after this illness. The best time for the plants will come on when

the rains are over, and the season be at its coolest. I mean to get what

appliances I can here, and make a short expedition into the jungle

around this place; then sending what I can collect to Rangoon to be

shipped home. And by that time, having received better appliances from

England, also having learnt to speak the language a little better,--we

must study _that_, Ralph,--I shall make my way to Rangoon around the

head of the bay; searching the various likely habitations for rare

plants, at different elevations and in different kinds of soil. The

weather will then be growing very hot, but we shall be seasoned to it. I

hope thus to obtain an extremely valuable collection,--perhaps of

insects as well as of flowers,--for we shall be collecting in every

variety of weather and locality. Mr. Augustus Herford will not grudge

money to this end; he gave me, virtually, _carte blanche_ to make what

arrangements I found desirable when I got here; and if we do well,

_there_ is your claim upon him."

"I should like it of all things," cried Ralph, with sparkling eyes.

"Well, you must be my assistant; and, as we shall need hands as well as

heads, I have spoken to the rest of our poor raft's crew, and we have

determined to keep together, hoping that our bad luck there will follow

us no further. We feel that we all showed pluck enough over that affair

to be able to trust each other in the future."

"I am sure, sir, that I would trust you anywhere, and should look upon

it as a very jolly thing to go with you. I like the men, too; we should

be ever such a comfortable party of us. But, Mr. Gilchrist, I don't see

that we had _all_ bad luck with that raft. I am sure it was very good

luck that it never upset. Those sharks swimming about us, like silent

death waiting for us, have bothered me dreadfully since I was ill. And

it was very good luck to be picked up when we were. Has anything been

heard of the boat, sir?"

"Not yet, but the very absence of news is some hope. No wreck of it has

been seen, no vestige at all. Ralph, when I think that we were cut

adrift on purpose, from malice, I think sometimes it may be as well if

that boat's crew never turns up."

"Oh, don't say so, don't say so! It was the doing of one only, and he

might have been half mad at the time. Perhaps--most probably--he has

been very sorry since."

"You are a good fellow, Denham, but it would never do to put more lives

at the mercy of a person who could have doomed six unoffending people to

all but certain death to gratify his own wicked spite. What the

Commissioner may do were he to appear here, I cannot say. If they do

turn up, I wish it might be anywhere else than here. I do not want to

appear against him, yet it would be my duty to do so. The Commissioner

is aware of the fact, and the severed line is in his keeping. If I had

not spoken of it, old Wills and Osborn would have done so. They are very

faithful to 'Miss Amy's chield,' Ralph. But see, there is the steamer

from the Andamans in the offing."

A long slender line of grey smoke was plainly visible upon the horizon,

becoming more distinct each minute; and all the European officers and

gentlemen in the place were congregating, in their white garments, upon

the quay to see the vessel come in. Amusement was not too plentiful for

such people in Moulmein in those days; an arrival of any sort was

interesting.

Mr. Gilchrist left the carriage to take Ralph home, and sauntered down

to join the groups that were forming. Ralph was glad to be alone for a

time, he was fatigued by the conversation, and much excited by the

thought of making this expedition with his friends. The prospect was

delightful to him, and on reaching home he resumed his former seat,

thinking of all he might see, until thought became dreamy, and

dreaminess sleep.

He was aroused by a familiar cheery voice.

"Hurrah! There he is! He has only left half of himself in the bay!"

It was Kershaw. Ralph sprang up to seize him by both hands in eager

welcome.

"Oh, Kershaw! How glad I am, how very, very glad to see you again! How

were you saved?"

"The steamer for the Andamans, with passengers from Rangoon, picked us

up, and carried us straight on there. It had some sort of big bug on

board who could not be hindered on his way for such a trifle as the

announcement of our safety, and we have been brought back here as fast

as our own news could have flown. So, like the clown in the circus,

'Here we are again.' But, Denham, I'll go back to the Andamans, if they

expect us _all_ to practise Banting here. What have you done to

yourself? You are as thin as a whipping-post, and your face is all

eyes."

"Oh, I've been ill! but I shall pick up fast enough now. People are so

kind to us. It is a very good world, after all, that we live in,

Kershaw, in spite of what some folks say."

"'It is a very good world that we live in,

To lend, or to spend, or to give in;

But to beg or to borrow, or get a man's own,

'Tis the very worst world that ever was known,'"

sang Kershaw.

"Oh, most wise and sapient third mate," cried Ralph, "you are easily

hoisted with your own petard! If folks lend, spend, and give, do not

other folks receive?"

"Let me be among the other folks then. I have lost all the locks of hair

of all the young ladies,--the dear creatures who adored me. There's a

loss, Denham! Black, brown, golden, grey,--they have all gone to

disagree with the sharks."

"Ugh! don't talk of sharks, they haunt me in my dreams yet."

"They use them for policemen in the Andamans. Fact!--the blue ones,

because of the colour like the uniform, you know. They loaf about, round

and round, just like bobbies on their beat; and if any poor devil of a

prisoner tries to escape, and swim to the mainland,--hey, presto! they

nip him up, and have him in a tight place in no time!"

"Your experience of life has been enlarged since I saw you, evidently."

"Yes, sir; nothing like foreign travel for enlarging the mind and

perfecting the manners. Perfecting even the most charming natural

manners, sir," said the mate, drawing himself up, and saluting with one

finger.

It was good for Ralph to have this atmosphere of boyish nonsense

restored to him. Between its bright influence, and the relief of finding

his friends alive and well, he improved wonderfully fast.

All the officers and men of the _Pelican_ came to see him, and all

appeared to be drawn more closely together from remembrance of the

hardships through which they had struggled. There was but one exception,

that of Kirke, and why he did not form one of that friendly group must

be explained later.

The friends went to walk in the bazaar, amused to see the shops, or

booths, so simply arranged by throwing upwards the side of the house,

and propping it up with a pole; and the odd conglomeration of articles

exposed for sale beneath this primitive awning.

Here, in a hole simply dug in the ground before the houses, were Burmese

women cooking rice in the joints of the bamboo.

There were others selling "pickled tea," and other abominations, by

means of weights fashioned after the semblance of the sacred duck.

Silver trinkets, lacquer ware, earthen jars and pots of native

manufacture, were oddly mixed up with the commonest glass and

earthenware from Staffordshire and St. Helens; stuffs of Oriental make

and pattern lay beside Manchester coloured handkerchiefs and Madras

muslin jackets; images of Guadama wore a suspiciously Brummagem air, and

might be seen--though never sold--side by side with lamps of native

pottery with distinctly classical shape, in the establishment of some

Chinaman, over whose booth the picture of his patron saint presided.

Mats, baskets, cylinders of gold, ornamented more or less, and worn by

the ladies as earrings poked through the universal hole in the ear, were

on every side,--together with Peak and Frean's biscuits and Bryant and

May's matches,--looking oddly out of place.

The people who bought and sold were as mixed a lot, and as queer to the

unsophisticated boy's eyes, as the goods in which they trafficked.

Burmese men and lads, whose close-fitting blue-patterned garments turned

out to be their own skins tattooed; women, their abundant tresses

dressed with exquisite roses or orchids, but displaying one leg bare to

the knee beneath their gracefully-draped "tameins"; children, even

babies in arms, smoking cheroots; bullock-carts, saffron-robed priests,

officials; half-naked children everywhere, under everybody's feet; gongs

sounding, bells tinkling, laughter echoing, strange calls and cries and

speech on all sides,--formed a never-ending entertainment for Ralph, who

had not previously seen more of the world than the rather dull and

prosaic streets of mercantile Liverpool. All was new to him, all

amusing, nothing more so than the idleness and merry temper of the

natives, coming so suddenly upon him after so stern an early struggle

with the grave realities of civilised life.

The rains were now over, and the pious Burmese, with great tenderness

for the little fishes left behind in many pools, collected them in jars,

and carried them in procession down to the river, that they might be

thus carefully restored to their native element.

The fish would doubtless have proved to be as grateful for this humanity

as the fish was to the queen in the old fairy story, did it not happen

that they were nearly all dead before they reached the water.

Their would-be saviours then ate them, and all ends were secured. Piety

and hunger were equally satisfied, and both "nats" and men pleased.

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