“Then now for a good comfortable snooze on those clean mats, for I’m tired out. Come along, Ned. Good-night, Hamet. Where do you sleep?”
“Across the door, sahib,” said the man, who bore the lamp into the sleeping chamber, and then stretched himself across the entrance.
“You can sleep too, Ned,” said Murray, yawning as he threw himself on his simple couch.
“No, uncle,” said Ned. “I am going to lie and think a bit.”
“Bah! Sleep, boy. It is only a bit of an adventure after all. Heigho-ha-hum! Good-night.”
“Good-night, uncle,” said Ned, as he too lay down, hearing the distant cry of a tiger through the mat-screened door; and then he began thinking about the adventures of the past day, and how strange their position was.
Only began: for in spite of tigers, mosquitoes, and the fact that fierce-looking Malay spearmen were about the place, Ned’s waking moments were moments indeed, and only few. Certainly not a minute had elapsed before he was fast asleep.