The Rajah of Dah Part 44

"It's all right," whispered Frank. "I'm to go first. Snore."

For a few moments the boy did not grasp his friend's meaning, but the idea came, and he commenced breathing hard, and uttered a faint sigh in his agony; for just in the midst of the rustling sound close by him, caused as he knew from a touch by Frank gliding slowly through the opening as if being drawn, he saw a gleam of light beneath the matting at the doorway, and felt that some one was coming again with the lantern.

The difficulty now was to make a noise that should sound natural. If he snored loudly it might seem forced, and if he did not, he felt sure that the rustling, sc.r.a.ping sound would be heard. But fortune favoured him.

Just as he was in despair, there was the sharp _ping_-_wing_ of a mosquito, and he babbled out something incoherently, made a restless movement, and slapped his face quickly twice, as he had often done before in an attempt to slay one of the noxious little insects.

The light disappeared directly, for the listening Malay was satisfied; and as Ned stretched out his hand again, he found that he was alone.

There was a terrible pause now, and in these brief moments the boy began to think that he had been forsaken, when all at once the hand touched him, glided down to his waist, and drew at it firmly.

He yielded and tried to force himself along, but did little, and that little seemed unnecessary, for strong muscles were at work, and he was almost entirely drawn through the opening till he was quite out; his legs sank down gently, and he was lowered till he felt his feet touch the ground, and a hand which he knew directly for Frank's, lay on his lips.

As he was puzzling himself as to how it had been managed, he grasped the fact that some one was gliding down the smooth trunk of a palm-tree which grew close to the house, and to which one of the bamboo rafters had been secured, but whether it was Hamet or some other friend he could not tell.

He had no more time for thinking, for two hands were placed on his shoulders, and a voice he now recognised whispered: "Down--creep-- follow."

He grasped the idea at once, and went down on hands and knees, to begin crawling slowly and softly after two bare feet, which he had to touch from time to time to make sure that he was right, while he felt that Frank was behind him, and that he too was touching his boots in the same way.

They were evidently crawling through a tunnel-like track below the undergrowth, a path probably made by a wild beast--unless it was a contrivance to escape from the back of the house in case of emergency-- and along this they crawled painfully, with the bushes on either side and overhead. Now a thorn entered hand or knee, now some kind of vegetable hook caught in their clothes, and then they had to creep round some rugged stump of a tree stem to get forward.

The distance was really not great, but it seemed painfully long, and every moment the fugitives were in expectation of having an alarm raised, and seeing the lights of the men in pursuit. But at last, just as Ned had crawled under a bush which sc.r.a.ped and p.r.i.c.ked severely, he heard a rustling noise and a peculiar rippling, and was aware of the fact that their guide had risen upright, and that he too could stand.

"Ah," sighed Frank, directly after, "what a--"

"Hist!" came in a low whisper. "Stop here--don't move. Quiet;" and it seemed to Ned that the man lowered himself down till his head was on a level with his companion's knees, and a faint splas.h.i.+ng told him where.

They were at the edge of the river, and their rescuer was slowly wading against the stream, holding on by the overhanging boughs.

Then the faint splas.h.i.+ng ceased, and the boys joined hands, to stand awe-struck and listening in the thick darkness, and with the knowledge that the water, gliding swiftly by their feet, swarmed with monstrous reptiles, which for aught they knew might seize their guide, or be marking them down for their prey.

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

DOWN THE STREAM AGAIN.

Five minutes, ten minutes, a quarter of an hour pa.s.sed, and neither of the boys spoke. No sound came from the house, no splas.h.i.+ng of the water told that their guide was on his way back.

All at once a shout reached them, followed by another cry, the noise of a struggle succeeded by a splash. Then another splash, and while, with their nerves all on the strain, they listened trembling with excitement, there was another faint gurgling cry; but, instead of being from the direction in which their rescuer had gone, it was close to them in the river, and ceased at once, to be heard again more faintly lower down.

"Oh, Ned," whispered Frank, pa.s.sionately, "that was poor old Hamet.

They've krissed him, and thrown him in the river."

"Can't we help him?" panted Ned, knowing as he spoke that they were only vain words.

"No--no--no," groaned Frank. "And hark! They're coming after us."

For there were shouts, and quite close at hand the glow of torches dimly-seen above the trees, while as the boys strained their eyes in the direction, Ned jerked Frank's arm.

"Hark!" he whispered; "some one's crawling along the path. Can't we run?"

"Can't we fly?" said Frank, bitterly. "It's all over."

"Hist! quick!" came from the water; "get in."

There was the sound of wood brus.h.i.+ng against the bushes, and a dark object rose in front of them.

"The boat!" said Frank, excitedly. "Hurrah! In with you, Ned."

The latter needed no second admonition, but sprang in against the man who was holding on by the boughs, and as the boy stumbled and fell, Frank followed.

It was none too soon, for there was a sharp rustling behind them, something dark sprang right after them, and another black figure, which had struggled through the tunnel-like pa.s.sage, rose up; but the boat was loosened, their rescuer struck out fiercely, and the man who had tried to leap on board fell back into the water with a splash, and they heard him dragging himself out just as there was a peculiar thud close to where Ned stood.

"What was that?" he whispered.

"Spear," said the man, laconically; and they heard him drag the weapon out of the thwart into which it had stuck.

The shouting continued, and it was as if two parties were answering one another; but the sounds grew more distant, and Ned realised that they were gliding down the stream.

"They'll come after us in another boat," panted Ned.

"No. No boat," said the man.

"Oh, Hamet, old chap," whispered Frank, "we thought they had krissed you, and that we heard you go down the river."

"No," said the man, quietly. "Two men keeping boat. Not hurt."

Ned felt a strange shrinking sensation, and his imagination supplied the facts of the case, as he mentally saw their friend wade in the darkness up to where this boat had been moored, and attack its guardians. He shuddered, and dared think no more, but, happily, Frank began whispering to him just then.

"This is one of the little nagas," he said. "I know it. The men used it to take us up the river. They did not know it would be all right for us to escape. I say, Hamet, how far is it down to the rajah's campong?"

"Don't know," said the man quietly, using an oar so as to get the boat's head down stream, and farther from the bank, where the fireflies were still flitting at intervals.

"Well, we shall float down to it. We needn't speak low now?"

"No; only a little," replied the man.

"I say, you were a good one to come and help us. But, I say, you did not kill any one, did you?"

"They tried to kill Hamet," he replied, quietly.

"Oh, Ned!" whispered Frank, with a shudder, "I shall never wear that kris again."

They glided on down in silence for some time before either of the boys spoke again, and then Ned said in a low voice:

"They seized you too, Hamet?"