CHAPTER XXI
A HIDING-PLACE
Long before the more familiar parts of the river were reached, preparations had been made in the way of seeing that the guns were loaded, though their use would be only in some grave emergency, since it was fully grasped that force would in all probability be of no avail. Clever scheming must be the weapon, though how to bring it to bear would depend upon circumstances.
At last they were nearing the part of the river where it was lined with the walls of the great temples, and farther on with boats. In a very short time they would be abreast of the palace and of the little English quarter, Mr. Kenyon's home being farthest away.
And now, to the surprise of all, Sree spoke out earnestly, unasked.
"If the place is in the hands of the rebels," he said, "the Sahibs would lose their lives directly they landed."
"I cannot help that," said the doctor. "I must land as soon as I am near home."
"The doctor Sahib will not be doing his best to save his wife," said
Sree sternly.
"No, Doctor, you must stay in the boat while I land," said Phra.
"To be killed at once," said Sree. "No, we will not let our Prince land now. Sahibs, I am like the rest of the people, and I can go ashore without being stopped. You must trust to me to go first and bring news."
"I cannot wait; it is impossible," said the doctor.
"I must go and find what has happened to my father." cried Phra.
And all the time the boat was being urged steadily on by the rowers, nearer and nearer to the river town; but so far there was nothing to suggest danger, for the customary sounds arose like a low murmur from the distance, and a faint glow hung above the river—the reflection from the paper lanthorns hanging from the boats.
"All seems to be unchanged," said Mr. Kenyon, breaking a long pause.
"Yes; it may be a false alarm," said the doctor. "Tell your men to row faster, Sree, and to stop at the first landing-place beyond the palace."
"The Sahib doctor does not see," replied the old hunter. "Something must have happened. Where are the lights?"
"Yonder," said the doctor, pointing to the reflection.
"Oh, Sahib, those are as nothing," said the old man. "And we can hardly hear the city breathe. We are close there, and we see that faint light and hear that little buzz of voices. It's more like a few insects. When I have come out of the jungle far away, it has been more bright than that and twice as loud. Will the Sahib tell his friend the doctor he must stay and I must go and see?"
"Yes, Cameron, Sree is right," said Mr. Kenyon. "Let him go first."
"My wife!" said the doctor, in a hoarse whisper so full of despair that a choking sensation rose to Harry's throat as he sat there in the dark.
"It means death, Sahib," said Sree plaintively, and the boat glided on, till, rounding a bend, those on board could see that very few lit-up houseboats were visible, and that the light came from the open ground on either side of the palace. While hardly had they grasped that when there was a sudden increase of the faint glow, and the loud, jarring noise of gongs beaten, followed by a scattered firing, the reports sounding loud in the darkness around.
A thrill ran through all present, and each drew a deep breath, for it was evident that the danger was very close, and in all probability watchers might be hidden among the bushes of the river bank, whose presence would be made known by the throwing of spears.
"The Sahib doctor hears," whispered the old hunter; "there is fighting going on by the palace. He will stay, and let his servant go and see?"
"Yes; go," said the doctor huskily.
"It is right, Cameron," whispered Mr. Kenyon.—"Now, Sree, what will you do?"
"Leave it to me, Sahib," was the reply, and turning to the men he whispered his orders, and all but one of the rowers laid in their oars, while the last just sent the boat gently along under the farther bank of the river where the eddy made the task less difficult, and for the next few hundred yards they glided along under the walls and terraces of the principal Wats or temples, till they drew near to the palace, and Harry laid his hand upon that which came out of the darkness and gripped his arm.
"Look," whispered Phra, in a hoarse whisper.
"Yes; I see," was the reply, and the two boys strained their eyes to make out what was going on near the palace, where paper lanthorns were gliding here and there, and a low buzz arose as of many voices; but the palace itself, as far as they could make out for the trees, was quite dark, and not a sound arose.
The firing had ceased before they drew near, and save the lights moving among the trees, and the buzz of voices, there seemed to be nothing more that they could learn.
The boat glided on silently and without challenge, while to all appearances, as far as they could make out in the darkness, there was not another vessel on the river, till they had passed the stone landing-place and reached the other side of the palace, where again a few paper lanthorns were seen moving here and there, and now and again came the faint sound of talking.
And now lower down they could just make out the lights of a few boats moored on their side of the river, but only a few, where they should have been packed close together.
They were now nearing the bank where the bungalows of the English residents had been erected, and it needed a few passionate, appealing words on the part of Mr. Kenyon to make the doctor refrain from landing.
"For aught we know there may be hundreds watching the boat," whispered Harry's father, "and your landing may mean the signal for a shower of spears. Sree, go on with your plans."
"Then there must be silence, Sahib."
"Yes, of course. Where will you land?"
"Yonder, Sahib, and as soon as I have leapt on the bank Adong, who is rowing, will take the boat across again and tie it up."
"Yes, and then?"
"You will wait. A boat can lie there without being noticed even in the daytime. When I pipe like one of the little herons that fish from the bank, the boat must come over and fetch me, for I shall have news."
"Yes, yes," said Mr. Kenyon hastily, while the rest eagerly drank in every word. "You will take one of the double guns?"
"No, Sahib; nothing but my kris in my padung. If I take a gun and am seen, I shall seem an enemy and be speared."
"Yes; right. And we are to wait until you come back?"
"That is so," whispered Sree. "Now, silence. No one will speak. Adong knows."
The next moment the prow of the light boat touched the dark bank, and
Sree leaped right ashore.
Harry held his breath, expecting to hear the rush of feet; but all was still, and the boat went gliding back through the darkness to the other side, where the men made it fast, and then squatted down upon their heels in perfect silence, watching the faint lights across the river.
It was a terrible silence, and Harry wondered, as he sat there listening for anything which might give him a clue to the state of affairs, at the change which had taken place during their short absence. When they left, the place was bright with gaiety, and the river fringed with houseboats full of light-hearted people; now all was painfully still, save the murmur from the direction of the palace, while the river glided by, lapping the sides of the boat, and making the boy shudder as he thought of how much it could tell of the secrets hidden beneath its dark waters.
All at once Phra started violently, for a loud shouting and beating of gongs arose once more from the direction of the palace. They could see lights, too, moving, as if a party were on their way to make an attack; but the sound of firing recommenced and kept on till the gong-beating ceased, when the lights seemed for the most part to die out.
"Those mean attacks being made on the palace, Phra," whispered Harry, "and the firing is from our friends."
"Yes," said Phra; "but it is so hard to bear. Hal, I must go across and see."
"No," said a voice close to his ear. "You must stay and bear it, Phra, till we get news."
"Don't say that, Mr. Kenyon," whispered Phra; "it is so terrible."
"Yes, my boy, I know it; but be a man. It is evident that your father and his friends have beaten the enemy off again."
"Or been killed," said Phra bitterly.
"Oh no, my lad; if the enemy had won, there would have been a burst of shouting, and—"
Mr. Kenyon paused, unwilling to proceed.
"I know what you were going to say, Mr. Kenyon; they would have set fire to the palace."
"Yes; they would have tried to burn the place," said Mr. Kenyon hurriedly. "Hist! a boat is coming."
All crouched down lower in the bottom and waited, for there was the splash of oars and the murmur of many voices, suggesting that the boat must be large; and in a short time they could see that it was one of the biggest barges, propelled by many oars, while as the covered-in part loomed up before them in the darkness while passing, the rapid chatter told that it was crammed with men.
There was little fear of their being noticed, as the boat lay close up under the bank, its occupants sitting so low that they were pretty well hidden by the side; but Harry held his breath, for he felt assured that these were fighting men on their way to join in the attack upon the palace. But his anticipation of a shower of spears was not realized, and the great barge, probably one of the king's, passed by without noticing them.
As soon as the vessel was out of hearing, Harry whispered,—
"Is that full of friends or enemies, Phra?"
"Enemies," said the lad bitterly. "If my father is shut up like that, and the palace being attacked, he will have no friends. Oh, how long—how long must I wait before I go to help?"
"Patience, my boy, patience," said Mr. Kenyon softly; "we are all as anxious as you; but when we stir it must be to do good, not to increase your father's anxieties."
"How could we?" said Phra impatiently.
"By placing the son he believes to be beyond the reach of his enemies in a position of danger."
"That was just the right thing to say to him, poor fellow!" thought Harry. "I wish I was as clever as my father. Poor old Phra! he can't say anything to that."
Harry was right. Phra remained silent, but from time to time, as he sat with his hand resting upon his comrade's arm, the English boy could feel it quiver as if from the pain he suffered.
Suddenly there was a fresh burst of shouting from across the river in the direction of the palace, suggestive of the occupants of the boat having joined those they supposed to be the besiegers; and now the party sat anxiously listening for another attack, but they waited in vain.
And how long the time seemed that Sree had been away! It was impossible to make any calculation in such a position, but everything had for some time been silent in the direction of the palace, where the lights had gone out one by one, while lower down the river there was not one to be seen, only the twinkling of the fire-flies in the gardens on the other side.
Suddenly the silence was broken by the doctor saying aloud,—
"Is he playing us false—has he escaped to save himself?"
"No," said Mr. Kenyon firmly, "but speak lower. Sound travels along the river by night."
"Sree would not cheat us, Mr. Cameron," said Harry bitterly. "I'll answer for him."
"Then why doesn't he return—why doesn't he return?"
"Because he has much to do."
"But he must have been three hours away," said the doctor excitedly. "I cannot bear this inaction longer. Kenyon, you must have me put ashore yonder."
"No," said Harry's father sternly; "I must take the lead here, for all our sakes. The man has his life to look to, and has no doubt had to thread his way among enemies."
"He will not come back," said the doctor. "I will wait another half-hour, and then at all costs I will be set ashore."
"Be silent, please," said Mr. Kenyon sternly.
"Ah, there he is," whispered Harry, for there was a low, hoarse, piping cry from the opposite bank.
Adong rose silently to his feet and raised his oar upright, while one of the men forward set the boat free and gave it a good thrust out into the current.
Adong lowered his oar silently into the water, not making the slightest splash; but to the astonishment of the little English party, instead of urging the boat across he gave a few vigorous thrusts and drove her back to the bank, squatting down again in his place.
"What does this mean?" whispered Mr. Kenyon sternly.
"Hist! Boat coming," whispered back the man, in his own tongue.
Those who heard him listened, but they could not hear a sound, and at the end of a few moments Mr. Kenyon turned angrily upon the man.
"There is no boat," he said, in the man's language. "Row across directly."
"No," said the man; "boat coming. Adong hear much farther than the master. Boat coming."
Harry thought of the man's life in the jungle, passed in tracking the wild creatures with his teacher, Sree, and felt that his senses would be keener than theirs, so that the boy was in nowise surprised when at the end of a minute the faint, far-off sound of paddling was borne to his ears, and a boat came nearer—a boat propelled by only one oar, and as far as he could make out with only two people in it besides the rower, for he could hear whispering as it passed like a shadow on the dark background in front of where he sat.
Adong made no movement till he was satisfied that the boat was out of hearing. Then uttering one word, the men who had held their prow to the bank once more gave a firm thrust, sending it into the current, and Adong sent the boat steadily across the river.
"Quicker! quicker!" whispered Phra, for from lower down came the sound of oars being used with furious haste, and voices were heard speaking angrily, while having the tide in their favour the fresh boat came along at so rapid a rate that the one the English party were in had only just time to glide in among some overhanging bushes by the bank, when a good-sized barge passed by so near to them that Harry felt that they must have been seen, though the next moment he knew that the passers-by would have looked upon their boat as one moored to the bank and empty.
"Sree!"
"I am here, Sahib," whispered the hunter, stepping down to them as soon as the barge was beyond hearing; "that is an enemy's boat, I think, in chase of one which went up before."
"Your news, man—your news!" whispered the doctor hoarsely.
"I went to the doctor Sahib's house."
"Yes! My wife?"
"The doctor Sahib's house is gone."
"Burned?"
"Yes, Sahib, to ashes. There was no one there."
"Did you go to the bungalow, Sree?" whispered Harry.
"Burnt down to embers, Sahib Harry. Every house belonging to the
English masters has been burned down."
"But man—man!" whispered the doctor wildly, "what are houses? Our friends, the English people? have you found out nothing more?"
"Yes, Sahib Doctor; the ladies were saved by the King and his spearmen. There was a great fight, and they were all taken to the palace. Not one was killed."
"Thank God!" groaned the doctor, and a deep silence reigned for a few minutes—a silence Phra respected for the doctor's sake, though he was burning to hear more. At last the lad spoke.
"How did you know this?"
"From my boy, Lahn. I sought for and found him, my Prince. He saw everything: the fight, the English Sahibs and their ladies taken to the palace, and the houses burned by the people. Lahn is here with me now."
"Tell me about my father," said Phra, with his voice trembling and an agonizing pain attacking him for fear lest he hoped too much. "He is safe?"
"Safe when Lahn was with the crowd of men at sunset. He is in the part of the palace by the little court where the young Prince's rooms are. The gates are shut, and there is much fighting by the second king's friends, who are trying to get in."
"And my father has all his brave spearmen to defend him?"
There was silence.
"Why do you not speak?" cried Phra angrily.
"It is hard to tell, Sahib Phra," said the old hunter sadly. "Lahn tells me that the King's guards fought for him till he and the ladies and the Sahibs were safe in the palace; then at a word from one of the bonzes they threw down their spears and krises in the courtyard, and joined the King's enemies outside the walls."
"The traitors—the traitors!" groaned Phra; "and we trusted them so. But tell me, Sree: those lights, the cries, and the beating of gongs to-night, what did it all mean?"
"Fighting, Sahib. The King's friends are very few, but some of his servants are with him still, and they beat the enemy off. Spears cannot reach so far as guns. Lahn says fighting like that has gone on all day."
"Hah!" ejaculated Phra. "But tell me: you, did you do nothing?"
"Yes, Sahib Phra; that made me so long. I went up in the dark to where there are many hundreds of the enemy all about the palace."
"But did you try to find a way by which we may get in tonight?"
"No, Sahib; the enemy are many, and they watch every place."
"But the terrace?" said Phra eagerly. "We could take the boat up there."
"Two of the King's barges are there, with many men guarding the landing-place, so that the King and his friends should not escape by the river."
"But at the back there, by the elephant houses?"
"A hundred men are there."
"By the garden?"
"It is full of spearmen."
"Oh, is there no place?" whispered Phra—"nowhere that we could crawl up unseen?"
"The Sahib Prince knows the place better than his servant, and that it is strong. His servant would have tried to climb over the wall, but there were many men everywhere, and he could not get near."
"If we could only let my father know that we are near!" said Phra excitedly.
"If we could, Sahib," said Sree slowly, "he would command you to escape, and wait till the danger is at an end."
"Yes—yes—he would wish me to go, but I cannot. Mr.
Kenyon—Doctor—what shall we do?"
"We must get help," said Mr. Kenyon promptly. "Phra, my dear lad, we can do nothing alone."
"But who would help us at a time like this? The priests and the whole city have risen against my father; who will help us now?"
"We must go down to the mouth of the river as soon as it is day, and see if there are any English or French vessels there. They would help us."
"Lahn says the river is full of the second king's fighting boats, Sahib, and you could not go down. The boat would be stopped, and you would all be slain."
There was silence in the boat till Sree spoke again.
"The Sahibs must hide."
"Hide?" cried Phra; "where could we hide now? We should be seen, and to please the bonzes the people would give us up."
"You must hide in the boat, Sahib Phra," said the old hunter quietly.
"What, go up the river again, and get into the jungle?"
"No, Sahib; we must be here—close to the palace."
"But with all the enemy's boats about, how can we?" said Mr. Kenyon.
"By being bold, Sahib," said Sree. "His servant will make the boat look dirty and common with mats where the cabin is, and throw that into the river. The Sahibs must hide beneath the mats; the men can hide their good padungs and sit in the boat and fish and chew."
"Yes, yes," said Phra; "no one would notice them. That is good. We must not go away."
"But help?" said Mr. Kenyon; "we must get help."
"His servant will swim to some boat, Sahib—he will find one, no doubt—and go down the river to try for help."
"No," said Mr. Kenyon, "we want you here. I will write on a leaf of my pocket-book, and you must send one of your men."
"Yes, Lahn would take it to an English ship if there is one," said Sree, whose voice suggested that he was pleased that he was wanted in the boat. "Lahn is here, Sahib. May he come on board?"
"Of course."
Sree uttered a peculiar sound, and a dark figure rose from the ground where it had lain flat, and glided down the bank into the boat.
"Now across to the other shore where we can hide," said Mr. Kenyon.
"No, Sahib," said Sree in a low, earnest whisper; "his servant has been thinking. We will go down to the landing-place at the bottom of the bungalow garden."
"Why there?" said Phra excitedly.
"Because the Sahib Prince's servant thinks if the cabin is taken down and thrown into the river to float away, the boat can be pushed between the big posts of the landing-place, and will lie under the bamboo floor."
"Yes, when the tide's down," said Harry; "but when the tide rises, what then?"
"The boat will be pushed close up against the bottom of the floor, and the water will rise a little round it, Sahib."
"But we should be shut up like in a trap, Sree, and regularly caught," said Harry.
"No, Sahib; the bamboos are split, and only tied down with rotan cane. It would be easy to undo two or three, so that we could pass out, or to leave a little of the boat outside one end, so that there would be room to get out on to the floor."
"Well, you are a clever old fellow, Sree," said Harry eagerly. "And now the bungalow is burnt no one will come there."
"No, Sahib; they will keep away. Does Sahib Kenyon feel that we should go there?"
"Yes, my man, yes. It will be less of a risk, for boats that pass will not think of meddling with the one lying there."
That was enough. Sree said one word, and Adong rose from where he had crouched, plunged his oar into the water, and forced the boat downward against the tide, while Sree and the boatmen set to work and cut loose the mats which hung from the cabin roof. These were carefully rolled up by one of the men, while the bamboo rafters were cut away. Then four men stood on the sides of the boat, each by one of the stout uprights, and at the word of command raised the light matting and palm-thatch roof, and heaved it away, to fall edgewise with a splash into the dark river.
Ten minutes later the last of the four uprights was thrust overboard, and almost directly after the garden landing-place was reached, and Sree's calculations were put to the test.
They proved to be quite correct, for there was just room for the boat to glide in between the bamboo posts; and as to height, the occupants were able to keep upon their seats with a few inches above their heads between them and the joists which supported the bamboo floor.
"Ah!" said Phra between his teeth; "we shall be in hiding here."
"Yes," whispered Harry; "but I don't think we shall be safe."
"I don't know," said his father; "an open hiding-place is often the most secure."