“I’m glad he didn’t kill me,” muttered the doctor; “I’m glad for Mary’s sake; but I’m not sorry I kicked the villain all the same. What are they about to do now?”
He soon learned, for the Sultan’s orders resulted in the prahu’s crew imitating his boatmen’s manoeuvre, running her close into the bank and under the shelter of the broad, overhanging boughs, the place being so well suited that even the large naga was entirely concealed.
As soon as these plans were being carried out, the doctor had been hurried—in spite of some resistance—into the after-part of the boat, where he was roughly thrown down upon the deck; but he knew from what was being done that help must be close at hand—and help of a substantial nature, or else the occupants of this large and well-armed craft would not have hidden and left the river clear.
“Perhaps,” he thought, “it may be meant as an ambush, and some of our friends are running the risk of capture.”
He felt lightened though at heart, and lay perfectly still—not in obedience to his captors, but to listen as he gazed straight up at the leaves and boughs above his head.
The time went on, and from being red hot with passion the doctor began to cool down; his heart had ceased to bound, and the burning sensation in his temples became less painful. He wondered where they had placed Helen, then whether there was any boat coming down the river; and at last, so still was everybody, so silent the leafy arcade, that the doctor’s natural history proclivities began to be even then aroused.
For as he lay there upon his back, first one and then another brilliant fly came and darted about through the network of sunrays; while soon after there was a beautiful bird perched upon a twig not ten feet from his face, where he could see the varied tinting of its feathers. Then, as it flew off, he saw what had alarmed it, and that it was not the crew of the boat, but first one and then another, till there were quite half a dozen monkeys of an extremely rare kind climbing and playing about in the branches of one of the biggest trees. Then came close to him a wonderfully-tinted parroquet, and then a lustrous sunbird began to dart about in an open space.
“If I only had my gun,” muttered the enthusiast; and then he was listening intently to the beat of oars.
The doctor’s thoughts were interrupted the next moment by some one kneeling down beside him, and he saw the gleaming eyes and white teeth of Murad, who drew the doctor’s attention to a bare kris which he held in his hand, and then pointed at his prisoner.
“Look!” he whispered; “if you make a sound while that boat goes by, I shall kill you as I would a dog!”