Trapped by Malays Part 61

"Yes. Drove me forward on my face. I think it was done with a rifle-b.u.t.t."

"That was it, sir. You know who it was--Scotch Mac. He always says 'Hech' when he hits out."

"Yes, of course."

"Well, wait a bit, sir. Some day I'll pay him back. I'll make him say 'Hech' out louder. Hurt you much, sir?"

"Only made my arm feel a bit numb. Stop a minute and listen. What's that?"

"A splas.h.!.+"

"Some one rowing?"

"Croc, perhaps, sir, with his tail."

"Then we are close to the river."

"Splendid, Mister Archie! Then it's going to be easy, after all."

At the end of a few cautiously taken paces the two lads found their progress arrested by bushes, and they stopped short, trying hard to pierce the gloom; but it seemed darker than ever.

"Can you tell where we are, Pete?" whispered Archie, with his lips close to his companion's ear.

"No, sir; but take care, or we shall step right off the bank into the water somewhere. Think I might strike a match, sir, and chuck it before us?"

"No. If you do we shall be having a spear this time instead of a rifle-b.u.t.t."

"Right, sir; but I don't see how we are going to find a boat unless we wade in and chance it."

"Let's get on, and creep through the bushes. It may seem a little lighter close to the water's edge."

Hand-in-hand they pressed on, the bushes brus.h.i.+ng their faces but yielding easily for a few minutes, and then, as if moved by one impulse, they checked an e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n and stood staring straight before them, for all at once a bush they had reached sent forth a little scintillation of light, and as Peter struck out with one hand, he started a fresh sparkle of tiny little lights, as a flight of fire-flies flashed out for a moment, and left the surroundings blacker than ever.

"That's done it, sir," whispered Peter. "I saw two quite plain."

"I saw quite fifty, Pete," whispered back Archie.

"Boats, sir! Stuff--fire-flies!"

"Do you mean to say that you saw boats?"

"That's right, sir. Just a glimpse--tied up, not half-a-dozen yards out in the river. Come on, sir; I'll lead; only keep hold of hands and be ready to step down into the water. These bushes hang quite over, you know how. Ready, sir?"

"Yes."

"Then come on."

Two or three cautious steps were taken, which disturbed the occupants of one of the clumps of low growth, which sparkled vividly as the nocturnal insects were disturbed, and then the two adventurers were standing breathing hard, hip-deep in the cool water which was flowing by them.

"Hear anything, Pete?"

"Only the ripple-pipple of the water, sir. You see the boats this time?"

"Yes, for a moment, quite plainly, away to your left."

"We can reach them easy, sir; but it will get deeper. You must be ready to swim. Say the word, sir, and I will lead."

"No, no; I'll go first."

"That's wasting time, sir."

"Right. Go on."

The words had hardly pa.s.sed the subaltern's lips when he felt a sudden s.n.a.t.c.h and a wallow in the water as if Peter had stepped out of his depth; but the lad recovered himself directly and stood firm, panting.

"All right, sir," he whispered. "Bay'nets!"

In his excitement Archie had forgotten the crocodiles, and he now tore the sharp, triangular blade from his belt, his imagination turning the ripple and plap of water against the nearest boat into the movement of an advancing reptile.

But all the time, short as it was, Peter, with extended arm, was moving sideways in the direction where the boats had been seen, with the bayonet-holding hand stretched out in the direction of his goal, the other clutching Archie's left with a force that seemed crus.h.i.+ng to the owner's fingers.

Step after step was taken sideways, with the water each minute growing deeper, and as they pa.s.sed quite clear of the bushes they had left, the water pressed more and more strongly against their b.r.e.a.s.t.s, so that they could hardly keep their feet; while as the darkness above the flowing stream seemed to be growing more transparent, Archie turned his head to gaze back in the direction of the overhanging bushes, in the full expectation of feeling a thrust from a spear, when he felt another sudden s.n.a.t.c.h and tightened his grasp of his comrade's hand, for Peter had reached deeper water and was borne off his feet, dragging Archie sideways.

Then there came a sharp sound as of metal against wood, a splas.h.i.+ng or wallowing that suggested the rush of one of the loathsome reptiles, and Peter gasped out in a gurgling way, as if he had been under water:

"All right, sir. I've got hold. Let yourself float down, and make a s.n.a.t.c.h at the side."

How it was done Peter did not know, and did not want to. It was enough for him in the darkness that he could feel that his companion had hold of the side of the boat, which had careened over so that the surface of the rippling river was within a few inches of the edge; and there they clung, listening with straining ears, trying to make out whether they had been heard.

"It's all right, sir," said Peter softly, as they now rested with their arms over touching the bottom of the boat.

"I don't know," said Archie. "I think the stern's covered in. Is anybody on board?"

"Like enough, sir; but chance it;" and raising himself with a sudden movement which made a loud wallowing and sent a shudder of horror through his companion, Peter drew himself over the rough gunwale, rolled into the bottom of the boat, in company with a gush of water, and then, bayonet in hand, crept over the thwarts and under the attap-covered stern.

"All right, sir," whispered the lad; and he crept to the far side of the boat, tr.i.m.m.i.n.g it so that it made Archie's task of joining him easier to achieve. "Ready, sir?"

"Yes. What about the moorings?"

"I was going to cut the rope, sir," whispered Peter, "but I won't.

Perhaps it's a grapnel, and we shall want it again."

Creeping right to the bows, he began to haul on a roughly made fibre line, which came in readily as the water rippled more loudly against the stem, and the line became more and more perpendicular, till something struck against the frail woodwork of the bows, and, panting with his exertion, Peter drew a little, clumsily made anchor into the big sampan.

"That's done it," he whispered. "Hear anything, sir?"

"No; but we are floating down."