“Oh, get out! I only pushed you out of his way. They are nasty beggars.”
He turned to the Malay guard and said a few words, to which a chorus which sounded like assent came at once.
“They say you have to be very careful, for the crocs kill a good many people every year.”
“Then we will be very careful,” said Murray; “and I beg your pardon for doubting you.”
“Oh, that don’t matter.”
“And let me thank you for helping Ned here this morning.”
“That’s nothing,” cried Frank, hastily. “Hi! Abdul!” he shouted to one of the rowers; and he hurried from beneath, the mat awning overhead, amongst the crew to the man in the bows, evidently to avoid listening to further thanks, and sat down to go on talking to the Malay, whose heavy stolid face lit up as he listened.
“So you had quite an adventure?” said Murray.
“Yes, uncle,” replied Ned; and he then went on to tell of the horrible scene he had witnessed.
Murray listened with his brows knit, and then after sitting thoughtful and silent for some minutes: “Mr Braine and the doctor have not exaggerated the situation, Ned,” he said. “Well, my lad, we must make the best of it. I daresay we can spend a month here advantageously, but we must be careful not to upset the rajah, for, though he can be a capital friend, and send us out collecting in this royal way, it is evident that he can prove a very dangerous enemy. You see he is a man who has the power of life and death in his hands, and does not hesitate about using it. We are beyond help from the settlement, and unmistakably his prisoners.”