[CHAPTER X]
THE LEOPARD
It was a great relief to Ralph, as well as to some others, when he learned that Kirke had escaped; but the men were very wrathful, and Mr. Gilchrist both dissatisfied that he should have avoided punishment, and more than anxious as to his safety. What, he thought, could such a young man do in the jungle, or among the half-civilised Burmese natives, without being able to speak their language at all, or help himself in any way.
All the weeks which he himself had spent in Moulmein, and during which he had worked hard to master the language, only resulted in enabling him to make himself imperfectly understood.
Ralph, indeed, succeeded better, though by ear rather than from book lore. With the happy effrontery of boyhood, he made the most astounding shots at Burmese; and, though the Burman lads laughed at his mistakes till they were fain to roll upon the ground from merriment, they, somehow, appeared to comprehend his meaning.
But nothing availed to make the two old Cornishmen speak anything but their own tongue.
Kirke had received no lessons, gained no experience, what could he do?
"My good sir," said the Chief Commissioner, to whom Mr. Gilchrist imparted his doubts—"My good sir, the lad is certain to be discovered, and brought back here. He is a marked man among the Burmese, and they will not feed him for nothing. A reward will cause him to be brought in before long."
"Drat him!" said Wills. "Good-for-nothing never comes to harm. I hope they there black fellows will read him a good lesson."