“Am I your officer, sir, or am I not?” said Archie fiercely.
“Yes, sir, of course; and I know I ought to obey the word of command. But you don’t want me to do impossibilities, now, do you, sir?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why, sir, you don’t want me to carry you and the cartridge-boxes too?”
“No; I should carry my share, of course.”
“Yes, sir; but I should be having Paddy’s load. You would be carrying the boxes, but I should be carrying you and the boxes too.”
“Pete—” began Archie fiercely; but he was checked by the lad’s action, for with one hand he pointed up the long reach, and with the other he placed the gun across the subaltern’s knees.
“A boat!” said Archie.
“Two on ’em, sir;” and they sat gazing up through the gathering gloom of their shelter at what the last faint rays of the setting sun showed to be a large sampan coming down the river, urged by a couple of Malays who were steadily using their poles, while some distance behind a boat about double the size was following them, propelled by oars.
“It will be all right, sir,” said Peter. “By the time they come by here it will be getting dark. Look at that farther one. The attaps looked red just now, but they are turning brown already.”