Behind us came the clatter of nailed boots, and I turned to see that Lipthay, his khaki and accoutrements caked with mud, had caught up with us. He laughed and puffed as my eye caught his. Every few yards the narrow way twisted and turned. We saw nothing, but could hear the cries of alarm of the natives and the thumping gallop of the terrified buffaloes just ahead. Suddenly the Doy turned off to the left, through a door in the wall, and the next instant we were in a kind of courtyard, covered with red tiles. In the middle was a guava tree in full bloom, and facing us a thatch-covered native house, with green blinds of split bamboo hanging from the roof.
As we advanced one of these was lifted, and a tall, lank native, holding a Winchester at the "ready," confronted us. His hair was long, and hung over his shoulders; his eyes, still full of sleep, had a fierce, wild glare in them.
We spread out and advanced towards him.
"The lu-thuong! (headman). Opium drunk," said Tho. "Surrender to us!"
The native spat at him, jerked up his weapon, fired at the Doy, and missed him.
Already he had pulled back the lever, preparing to shoot again, when Lipthay's rifle spoke. His weapon fell with a clang to the tiles, and, his two hands clasped to his breast, he staggered back against the screen, which gave way, and fell doubled up under the verandah. With his back against the wall of the house, he watched us as we came to the door. His mouth opened, and he tried to curse:
"De-oh!... de-oh!" Then he coughed, and a rush of blood choked his words. He toppled over on his side as our three rifle-butts, descending on its surface, splintered the wooden door of his abode. He had done his best to defend his guest.
The scene inside was a strange one. We had expected resistance, but found none, and were perhaps disappointed in consequence.
On a big wooden couch, and inside a green mosquito-curtain, lay a man, dressed in cream-coloured silk. Beside him was a tray on which I saw the little silver box, the skewers and the lamp. The latter was burning, and the brilliant stream of sunshine pouring through the broken door seemed to drown its flicker.
The man's face was long and emaciated, and, as the light struck it, I noticed that his skin was very fair for a native, that he wore a green silk turban, and that his hair was carefully rolled. The finger-nails of his left hand, which held the pipe over the flame, were very long; that of the little finger being at least 4 inches.