At Bombay one of Dr. Reikie's friends had made him a present of a photographic apparatus. This was a somewhat recent invention in those days, and Auld Reikie was delighted beyond measure.
There would be no end to the scenes he might now depict. I believe the possession of that lens and camera kept him awake for several nights before he reached Ceylon.
There he refused all offers of sport. Elephant-hunting, anyhow, was brutally cruel, he said, and he would find plenty of enjoyment with his camera.
The worthy surgeon, on the ship's arrival at Trincomalee, formed a resolve to astonish his messmates. He would give them a pleasant surprise. He had already taken portraits on glass of the captain himself, of Sturdy, a group of men, the ship's cat, and the mongoose. He should now do something extra and special. Well, pleasant surprises are always welcome, more particularly to officers on foreign stations. So Dr. Reikie betook himself to the woods or bush. There would be plenty of scope here for an effective picture—a lovely bit of scenery, a treescape, with the sea and ships beyond, perhaps. The pictures would aid the advance of science, and prove even to Gribble, the assistant-paymaster, that mankind with the sword of knowledge was moving onwards, ever onwards, conquering and to conquer the world, ay, and the universe itself. Mind, he had told his messmates a thousand times over, was not matter in motion, as some shallow-minded philosophers would try to make out. The soul was as high above the merely material as Sirius was beyond the earth. The mind made use of matter only as a carpenter made use of a tool.
He went on shore, carrying his camera himself. He would not permit even Jack Mackenzie to accompany him to-day. For to-day his pictures would probably be little more than mere experiments. Even science must advance by gradual steps and slow. When he became a little more expert in the use of the camera, he—well, there is no saying what he might not do.
He found at last the spot that suited him—a charming bit of scenery: trees, rhododendrons just bursting into bloom, early though it was, great masses of dark foliage, the bend of a stream, a rustic bridge, and a distant mountain peak. He felt triumphant already. How tenderly he handled his apparatus, how gingerly he set it up, and how carefully he placed his head and shoulders under the black cloth! Yes, there was the picture, upside down of course, but in colouring complete—the most lovely miniature that ever his eyes had beheld. And yonder—oh!
The "oh" was an expression of pain. Something had struck him from behind. He tore off the black cloth and looked round, rubbing himself as he did so. There was a huge nut lying near him; but who could have thrown it? There was no one in sight, and no nut-tree from which it could have fallen. It was strange, but he refused to be discouraged, So he once more enveloped his head in the dark cloth, when whiz! bump! another and another. It was serious; he must be already black and blue.
What could it mean? The place was very lonesome. Not a sound was to be heard except the ripple of the stream and the piping of a bird in a bush near by. He was just a trifle superstitious, and he began to think the wood must be haunted. He dismissed the idea at once, however, as unworthy to be harboured by any scientific thinker.
To prove to himself that he was not afraid, he once more hid himself, and began to make sure of his focus. He had got it as nearly perfect as possible, when suddenly the black cloth was seized from behind and rolled about his head. He felt a weight on his back, a cold and tiny hand on the nape of his neck, and in the struggle to free himself the tripod got mixed up with his legs, and down he rolled, camera and all.