Trapped by Malays Part 11

"Well, well," said Minnie compa.s.sionately, "let's hope he will improve."

"Improve, my dear? I've give up hopes. He says that the climate don't agree with him, but when we was at Colchester he used to say he was obliged to take a little to keep off the colic, for the wind off the east coast was so keen; and the same when we were in Canada. That was when we were first married, and I was allowed to come on the strength of the regiment, many long years ago, my dear; and I have done the officers' was.h.i.+ng ever since, or I don't know what we should have done.

Then when we came out to Injy and it was so hot, he used to say if he didn't have a little something he should be a dead man, because it was so horrid dry; and now we are stationed here he sticks out that he only takes a little to keep off the jungle fever. Any one would think he was fighting against being invalided home, but he don't deceive the Sergeant, and he tells me that Joe will go too far one of these days; and he will break my heart if he does, and I'm always in a skeer as I think and think and wonder how far he will have to go before being sent home. I don't know what's to become of me if I am sent there. Home, sweet home, they calls it, Miss Minnie. I suppose you would like to go?"

"Well, for some things, yes, Mrs Smithers; but I am very happy here."

"Of course you are, my dear. You are so young and pretty and good."

"Oh, nonsense, Mrs Smithers! I am very happy here because I think aunt likes me being companion to her, and dear uncle wouldn't like me to go away."

"Of course he wouldn't, my dear, bless him! for he's a good, true man, though he does talk a bit hard sometimes, and every one likes him. See how good he is to all these Malay folk, who have no call upon him at all. Oh dear! it will be a hard time for every one when you do go away.

I know I shall about cry my eyes out."

"But I am not going away, Mrs Smithers," said Minnie laughingly.

"Not going away, my dear? No, not this week, nor next week, nor next year perhaps. But you needn't tell me; it would be against Nature for you to stop here always. Such a young lady as you can't be allowed to do as she likes. All the same, though, my dear, I should be glad to see you go home."

"You would, Mrs Smithers?"

"Yes, my dear, for I don't think it's nice for English womenkind to be out here amongst these betel-chewing, half-black people, going about in their cotton and silk plaid sarongs, as they call them, and every man with one of those nasty ugly krises stuck in his waist. Krises I suppose they call them because they keep them rolled-up in the creases of their Scotch kilt things. I often lie in bed of a night feeling thankful that I have got a good, big, strong husband to take care of me, bad as he is. For my Joe can fight. Yes, I often feel that we womenkind aren't safe here."

"Oh, for shame, Mrs Smithers! Who could feel afraid with about three hundred brave British soldiers to take care of them?"

"I could, miss, and do often. It's all very well to talk, and I know that if these heathens rose up against us our British Grenadiers would close up and close up till the last man dropped. But what's the good of that when we should be left with no one to take care of us? Oh, my dear! my dear!" said the woman, with a look of horror crossing the big brown face.

"Mrs Smithers, you must have been upset this week, to talk like that."

"I--I 'ave, my dear; and it's a shame of me to stand here putting such miserable ideas into your head; but I had a very hard day yesterday, for my Joe had been extra trying, and I couldn't get a wink of sleep, for after being so angry with him that I could have hit him, I lay crying and thinking what a wicked woman I was for half-wis.h.i.+ng that he was dead; for he is my husband, my dear, after all, and--Morning, ma'am--I mean, good-afternoon," cried the woman respectfully. "I am so sorry to be late this week, and I hope the Doctor's quite well."

CHAPTER SIX.

ARCHIE OPENS HIS EARS.

The mess dinner was over, and the officers were sitting back by one of the open windows, dreamily gazing out at the dark jungle and breathing in with a calm feeling of satisfaction the soft, comparatively cool air that floated up on the surface of the swift river.

It was very still, not a word having been spoken for some time; not a sound came from the native campong, while it was hard to believe that within touch of the mess-room there were the quarters of nearly three hundred men. But once in a while something like a whisper came from the jungle, suggesting the pa.s.sing through its dense tangle of some prey-seeking, cat-like creature. But no one spoke; though, in a half-drowsy way, those seated by the window and a couple of dark figures outside in the veranda were straining their ears and trying to make out what caused the distant sounds. Then some one spoke:

"Asleep, Archie?"

"No. I was trying to make out what was that faint cry. Do you know, Down?"

"Didn't hear any faint cry."

"Listen, then."

"Can't. Deal too drowsy.--Lots of fire-flies out to-night."

"Yes; aren't they lovely?--all along the river-bank. They put me in mind of the tiny sparks at the back of a wood fire."

"A wood fire? What do you mean--a forest on fire?"

"No, no; at home, when you are burning logs of wood and the little sparks keep running here and there all over the back of the stove, just like fireworks at a distance."

"Ah, yes, they do look something like that, just as if the leaves of the overhanging bushes all burst out into light."

"Yes," said Archie; "and when the soft breeze blows over them it seems to sweep them all out."

"Good job, too," said Captain Down. "We get heat enough in the suns.h.i.+ne without having the bushes and the water made hot by fire-flies."

"It's wonderful," said Archie.

"Wonderfully hot."

"No, no; I mean so strange that all those beetles, or whatever they are, should carry a light in their tails that they can show or put out just when they like, and that though it's so brilliant it is quite cool."

"Rather awkward for them if it was hot, in a climate like this. They look very pretty, though."

"Lovely!" said the subaltern enthusiastically. "I don't know when I have seen them so bright. You can trace out the whole course of the river as far as we can see; and there above, the sky looks like purple velvet sewn all over with stars, just as if they were the reflections of the fire-flies."

"Bos.h.!.+" said Captain Down, striking a match to light a cigar.

"Why bosh?"

"Fancy--poetry. I think I shall have a nap. It's too hot to smoke."

"Don't."

"What! not smoke?"

"No; don't go to sleep. You will get fever."

"Who says so?"

"The Doctor."

"Oh, bother!"

"Now then, what do you say to going as far as his bungalow and telling the ladies that the river has never looked more beautiful?"

_Plosh_!

"Beautiful river!" said the Captain mockingly. "Like to take them on it perhaps in a boat?"

"Well, it would be very nice, with a couple of good men to pole it along."

"Of course; and every moment expecting to see the horrible snout of one of those brutal beasts shoved over the side to hook one out."