The Rajah of Dah Part 12

"I could have told ye that before," said a voice; and, looking up, Ned saw the good-humoured sun-browned face of the Irishman just projecting over the edge of the bamboo jetty, where he lay upon his chest smoking a pipe.

"Hullo! I'd forgotten you," said Ned, who had come down very thoughtful and dull.

"Faix, and I hadn't forgotten you. Didn't ye tell me to mind your duds and things in the boat, sor?"

"They did; I didn't. I say, if you knew that we should stay, why didn't you--But never mind."

The man gave him a droll look.

"There ye needn't mind spaking out," he said. "I know. The old 'un won't let ye go away again."

"You know him?" said Ned excitedly.

"Av course I do. He niver lets any one go that he wants to stay."

"Then why didn't you, an Englishman--Irishman, I mean--"

"That's better, sor, though any one would hardly know me for an Irishman by my s.p.a.che. Sure there are times when I haven't a bit of brogue left.

It's the sun dhries it out of me, I think."

"But why didn't you warn us?"

"Because there'd a been a regular shaloo if I had. The other gintleman would have told your men here to pull away, and the dhragon boat would have been afther ye shying shpears, and you'd have been shuting, and the end would have been that ye'd been hurt; and think o' that now."

"But we should have rowed right away."

"Divil a bit. They'd soon have caught ye or been firing their bra.s.s lalys at yez."

"What's a bra.s.s laly?" said Ned.

"Get out wid ye, sor: poking fun at me. Who said a wurrud about lalys?

I said lalys."

"Well, so did I."

"Not a bit of it; ye said lalys."

"So did you."

"Not I. I said laly."

"Spell it then."

"Is it shpell it. Well then, l-e-l-a-h, laly. It's a big bra.s.s blunderbush thing on a shwivel. There's two of 'em on each of their prahus, and they send a ball about two pound-weight sometimes, and other times a couple o' handfuls of old bits o' broken iron, and nubbles o'

tin, and shtones. Annythin whin they're spiteful."

"But do you mean to say they'd have dared to fire at a boat with two Englishmen in it--I mean a man and a boy?" cried Ned, flus.h.i.+ng.

"Oh, don't go aiting yer wurruds like that, lad. Shure ye've got the sperret of a man in ye, if ye're not s.h.i.+x feet high. An' is it fire at a boat with Englishmen in it? Why, I belave they'd shute at one with Irishmen in, and I can't say more than that."

"Then we've rowed right into a nest of Malay pirates?"

"Oh no. You people at home might call 'em so, perhaps, but the old un's jist a rale Malay gintleman--a rajah as lives here in his own country, and takes toll of iverything that goes up and down. Sure, we do it at home; only gintalely, and call it taxes and rates and customs. And they've got customs of the country here."

"But, I say," said Ned, as he found that he was getting a deeper insight into their position, "the rajah will soon let us go?"

"Will he?"

"Come, answer me. How long will he want us to stay?"

"Oh, for iver, I should say, or as much of it as ye can conthrive to live."

"You're making fun of me," said Ned, frowning. "But look here; you are not prisoners."

"Prishoners? No. Isn't the masther the rajah's owen chief docthor, and Mr Braine his prime-minister, field-marshal, and commander-in-chief."

"Then you people could go when you liked?"

"Oh no. Divil a bit. The old un's so fond of us, he won't let us shtir, and he always sends four dark gintlemen wid shpears if I think I'd like to go for a walk."

"Then you are all prisoners?"

"Don't I tell ye no, sor. They don't call it by that name, but we can't go away."

"Oh, but this is abominable!" cried Ned, looking in the dry, humorous face before him.

"Ye'll soon get used to it, sor. But just a frindly wurrud. I'd be civil, for they've an ugly way of handling things here, being savage-like. There isn't a wan among 'em as knows the vartue of a bit o' blackthorn, but they handle their shpears dangerously, and ivery man's got his nasty ugly skewer in his belt--you know, his kris--and it's out wid it, and ructions before ye know where ye are."

"Yes; I saw that every man had his kris," said Ned, thoughtfully. "But can you stay and look after the boat?"

"Didn't the masther say I was to. But n.o.body would dare to touch a thing here. Here he is."

Ned turned sharply, and saw a little party approaching, consisting of Mr Braine, the doctor, and Murray, with the Tumongong at their side.

"Tim," said the doctor, "you can superintend here. The men are to carry everything in the boat up to the house next but one to ours."

"The one close to the trees, sor?"

"Yes. You will not want any other help. But mind that the boat is properly made fast."

"Shall I stay too, uncle?" asked Ned.

"No; come with me, and let's see our new quarters."

They were in the act of starting when the Malay chief by their side held up his hand to arrest them, looking along the river with eager eyes, where a boat, similar to the one which had first come alongside their own, could be seen approaching fast, half filled with men, eight of whom were working vigorously at the oars, while half a dozen more sat beneath the awning, with the blades of their spears thrust out at the sides, and glittering in the sun.

"Have they got him, I wonder?" said the doctor half aloud.