Chapter Ten.
A Serious Complication.
In a few weeks all thought of considering themselves as prisoners was forgotten, and Murray and Ned were as busy as it was possible to be in that hot steamy climate.
There was, however, one point about which Murray made a complaint, and spoke to Mr Braine upon the subject, and that was the presence of armed men as guards; for wherever they went, even if it was from one end of the village to the other, there were these quiet dark sentinels, and so sure as either Murray or his nephew came to the conclusion that they were alone, the next moment one of the men would be seen pretty close at hand.
“Never mind, uncle,” Ned said, laughingly; “the sun always shines here, so one must expect to have shadows.”
“But I don’t like it, Ned; it worries me,” said his uncle; and as stated he complained to Mr Braine, who promised to speak to the rajah, and two days later came to the house where its occupants were busy skinning and drying their specimens.
“The rajah has sent me to ask if he can do anything more for you, Murray,” said their visitor. “He has been saying again that he is delighted with your discovery of the tin, and that he shall some day set men to work mining and smelting, but he hopes you will persevere, and discover a good vein of gold. You are to speak as soon as you are ready for a long expedition, and the elephants will be brought up.”
“Let’s go soon, uncle,” said Ned. “I want to have an elephant ride.”
“Patience, patience, boy. There, that’s not such a bad imitation of life, is it?” said Murray, holding out a beautiful amethystine-looking kingfisher.
“Capital!” said Mr Braine, smiling at the enthusiasm his new friend brought to bear in his pursuit.