Middy and Ensign

by George Manville Fenn

His words were uttered in a tone of voice that told his hearer of the sincerity of that which was spoken. Ali knew the character of the Malays too well to entertain any doubt. There would not be the slightest compunction in the matter; and knowing this, he lay there watching the men, as they slowly settled down once more around the blazing dammar-torch they had replenished.

One coolly replaced his kris, and proceeded to get ready his betel for a fresh chew, calmly taking a sirih leaf, spreading upon it a little creamy lime from a tiny box, and rolling in it a scrap of nut, his red-stained teeth looking ogre-like in the torch-light.

Another set-to and prepared to smoke, making himself a pipe in a very few minutes out of a piece of green bamboo, cutting it off close to the joint, and then a little above it for a bowl, in one side of which he made a hole, and thrust in a little reed for a stem. In this sylvan pipe he placed some broken leaf of the coarse Malay tobacco, and began to smoke contentedly; while the third watcher helped himself to a piece of sugar-cane, and began peeling off the harsh, siliceous envelope, and then eating the sweet soft interior.

The leader had at once lain down, and seemed to have gone off to sleep; but of that Ali could not be sure.

He had failed; but Ali was not yet disheartened, and he lay there, thinking that he would risk life over and over again to warn his friends; but still he had to consider that if he lost his life he would not be serving them in the slightest degree, even if they should see his disfigured body float down.

What could he do?

If he had only possessed a little toobah, that creeping plant whose roots the Malays used for drugging the fish, some of that, he thought, infused in the food of his guards, would send them into a state of stupefaction, and give him time to escape.

He smiled directly after as he thought of this, and lay back wearily, thinking of what folly it was to form such bubble-like ideas; for of course it would have been impossible, even had he possessed the drug, to get it mingled with his captors’ food.

No, he felt he must wait now, and trust to their dropping off to sleep, when he might still manage to crawl to the doorway, leap down, and dash into the jungle.

As he lay thinking, the hard breathing of a couple of the Malays could be plainly heard, and his hopes rose, for the others must grow weary, sooner or later, and fall asleep. The noises in the jungle increased; and as he lay with his cheek against the bamboo flooring, the sounds came up very plainly between the interstices. Now it was the heavy crashing of the reeds, the rustling of some animal going through the dense undergrowth, and then, unmistakeably, the low, snarling roar of a tiger. Now it was distant—now close at hand, and he knew that one of the great, cat-like creatures was answering another. How close it seemed! He could almost fancy that the tiger was beneath the house, hiding in the reedy grass that had sprung up amidst the ruins.