"No, Sahib, there is something else—something hard," said the hunter, and he searched about, gathering something in his hand, rinsed it to and fro a few times, and carefully threw four objects ashore.
Harry shuddered and felt a horrible, sickening sensation for a few moments, but it was swept away directly after by the feeling of rage which made the blood run hot to his temples.
"I've been thinking what brutes we were, killing things as we have been this morning; but oh, the beast! I should like to kill hundreds."
"Ugh!" ejaculated Phra, as he stamped his foot, and then through his compressed teeth: "The wretches! the monsters! how I hate them!"
He said no more, but stood with his companion listening as the doctor rested on one knee and turned over the objects on the grass.
"Yes, strung on wire; that is why they have not separated. Gilt bronze, and very pretty too. Each one is chased; the leg and arm bangles are bronze too, and quite plain. You may as well put them in your museum, Kenyon, with a label containing their sad little history—Worn by some pretty little Siamese girl dragged under when bathing."
"Yes, Sahib doctor," said Sree respectfully; "they wear bangles like that three days' journey up the river."
"Horrible!" ejaculated Harry, bending over the relics.
"Horrible indeed, my boy," said his father. Then laying his hand upon Phra's shoulder, "Thank you both, my lads, for ridding the river of a vile old murderer."
"Thank old Sree, too, father," said Harry eagerly, "for he did more than either of us."