“He says,” cried the babu, when the cook became silent at last, “in the charpoy is much blood. Have you become wounded?”
“It was only a blood-sucker,” I explained; “but what does he say about the book?”
“The cook asks that you will write all the story of the blood in it, very careful.”
“What nonsense!” I answered, when James had stopped laughing. “I’ll pay for the damage to the charpoy.”
“Oh! It is no dam-magé,” protested the babu, “no dam-magé at all. He is not ask for pay. But when the inspector is coming and seeing the much blood in the charpoy, he is thinking the cook have kill a man who have sleep here, and he is taking him to Kawkeriek and making him shot. Very bad. So cook cry. Please, sir, write you the story in the register book.”
I sat down at the veranda table and wrote a long story for the visiting inspector. Only when I had filled the page below our names, and half the next one, was the Hindu cook satisfied. He then carried the book away for safe keeping.
We wrapped our dry garments in the oil-cloth once more, and put on the rags and tatters we had stretched along the ceiling the evening before. They were still clammy wet. As for our shoes, we almost gave up the hope of getting into them. When we managed to pull them on at last we could hardly walk. Our feet were blistered and swollen to the ankles, the shoes wrinkled and shrunken until the leather was as hard and unbendable as sheet-iron. However, we hobbled down the veranda steps and away. For the first hour we walked as if we were crossing a field of hot coals. Once James slipped and stumbled over the stones like a man learning to skate. We suffered at every step of our journey from Thenganyenam to Siam.
CHAPTER XXIII
IN SIAM
The distance to the free state was not great. When we reached the boundary we came upon a camp of native soldiers. Here we stopped, as was our duty before crossing into Siam. The soldiers were simple, good-hearted fellows who showed their astonishment and their sorrow at the condition of our feet through the language of signs, and did their best to prepare us a good dinner from the rice and jungle vegetables they had. It was fortunate for us that they were so generous, for there were no stores in the jungle land.
The native lieutenant showed a strong curiosity to know what had brought us so far into the wilds. We tried to motion out our reasons for coming, but failed to make him understand. Finally he ordered a soldier to guide us to the first Siamese village, where he was to explain our presence to the head man.