He cut a couple of bundles of long bamboos, which he tied along the bulwarks, to use in case of need; fashioned rude rowlocks in the centre; cut a quantity of grass, which he spread as a carpet for his feet; bound up a sheaf of the same to serve for a pillow at night; provided a store of liana twigs and split cane for repairs, if necessary; made his packet of orchids secure to stakes; and, finally, began to lay in a small store of fruit for food.
The stream was drying up so fast upon its shallow borders that fish were left flapping about in holes, or on the mud, every day; and, not sharing in the Burman's superstition as to taking life, he had made many a meal upon them,—for the construction of his raft had occupied several days. So few charges of powder and shot had he left, that he would not use his gun, thinking that he might want it for self-preservation before he could reach civilised regions.
When fish was not to be got, he had eaten fruit when he could find it; he had knocked down a bird or two by throwing sticks at them, for they were very tame at first, but were now becoming more afraid of him; and once he had been fortunate enough to come across some jungle-fowl's eggs.
Such a piece of luck had not befallen him again, however; and he had cleared his immediate neighbourhood of plantains, so he must go farther afield for stores.
The weather was very hot, and he had worked about his boat building, all these days, in his shirt and linen drawers. His other garments, with his gun and other small possessions, were neatly laid together on the low-growing branch of a shrub, in a place where he could easily see them; and now, taking up his knife, which he carried with a lanyard about his neck, and with a coil of grass-rope in his hand, he pulled on his boots, and set off into the jungle.
He was tolerably successful in his quest, but had to roam about for some time first. As the sun was preparing to set, he returned to the place that had begun to feel almost like a home to him,—that natural clearance among the trees; the clump of bushes on the little promontory jutting out into the stream; the huge Amherstia crowning the many-tinted scrub, with the white Dendrobium Formosum hanging down from it in such rich masses.
What were those parti-coloured figures at the foot of the tree where his garments hung? Men? Burmese? Not dacoits? But what else could they be? The ragged gaudy "putsoes," the white fillets around the heads, the gaunt frames, the fierce yet sly faces, all told their own tale. Ralph had heard of these robbers, and slipt stealthily back into the jungle, where, himself concealed, he could watch their proceedings.
They were examining his clothes with grins of delight. One had his beloved watch hung round his neck, and dangling about with every movement. One was cutting buttons off with great glee; and one was investigating the gun.
Now this gun was not a very good one; it had been purchased in the bazaar of Moulmein, in preparation for Ralph's first expedition with Mr. Gilchrist, when money was short with them both, while awaiting their better equipments from home.
But it was lighter than the fine new ones sent out from England, and was a favourite one with its young owner, though Wills often told him that he would meet with some accident with it one of these days, the weapon being so worn.