As it drew near it was seen to be one belonging to the sultan, with a couple of his principal officers therein.
They landed, each in his gay silken sarong, in whose folds the handle of the kris was carefully wrapped, to indicate that they were bound on a friendly mission, and leaving their men at the bamboo landing-stage fitted up by the sailors, they made their way to the residency.
No sooner had the news been given to Mr Linton of the approach of the sultan’s boat than a signal was hoisted, whose effect was that the captain’s gig was lowered down, and he arrived at the stage directly after, joining Major Sandars who had been fetched by an orderly, both officers being in full uniform.
“I say, Tom,” said Bob Roberts to his companion, who had come across to the ship a short time before, “if I were you I’d go back and fig myself. I shall put on my best duds, for you see if we ar’n’t sent for to meet those two coffee-coloured swells.”
Tom Long, who was rather low-spirited about the matter, took the middy’s advice, and went back to the island, where the visitors had already been ushered into the resident’s reception room, the captain and major dropping in directly after as if by accident.
It was the most friendly of visits. The two officers were the tumongong, or chief magistrate, and the muntri, or chief adviser, of the sultan; and nothing could have been more amiable than their demeanour as they conversed with Mr Linton, who from time to time interpreted to the two British officers.
Was there anything the sultan could do in the way of providing better supplies of rice, fruit, and meat? A great fish expedition was about to be set afoot, and more would be brought down the river and kept in floating tanks. If the resident would only speak, everything possible should be done.
Nothing was required, so thanks were returned; when the tumongong smiled most agreeably, and said that he must now come to the chief object of his visit. The fact was, the sultan had decided to have a great tiger-hunt. Much mischief had of late been done by tigers. Several poor fellows, especially Chinamen, had been carried off from the rice-fields, and the sultan had decided to get together all his elephants, with a large number of beaters, and have a great hunt. Would the British officers bring their rifles and help? Elephants should be placed at their disposal, the largest the country produced, and every thing done to make the hunt a success.
“Then it’s a mare’s nest after all, Sandars,” said Captain Horton. “They’re not going to take any notice of those boys’ tricks. What do you say; shall we go?”
“I should enjoy it immensely,” said the major. “I long for a shot at a tiger.”