UNE INVITATION À LA CHASSE ET UNE INVITATION À LA VALSE.
William Verstork was destined to keep his appointment with his friends; but it was not at all in the way he intended. When he promised to meet them he thought that he would, as usual, ride over to Santjoemeh on the Saturday afternoon and stay until Monday morning. It was, however, not to be so. On Thursday morning Charles van Nerekool and Edward van Rheijn received a letter inviting them to go to Banjoe Pahit.
“That will be,” wrote Verstork to his two friends, “a complete change of parts. Hitherto I have been your guest, but now I insist upon appearing in the character of host. Of host!—surely my pen must be playing tricks with me. Yes, indeed, for in order to play the host, one must be able to show hospitality—no, no—hospitality is not the right word; but in order to play the host one must be able to provide for one’s friends; and though I know well enough that you would not at all object to put up with my poor controller’s lodging and with my still more humble dish of rice—yet I do not intend to offer you such meagre fare. Where I shall stow you away I really don’t know, nor can I tell where you will find your entertainment. There’s a fine invitation! I hear you exclaim. Yet, my dear friends, I feel quite certain that you will accept it. Just hear what I have to say. For some time past the maize fields of the inhabitants of my division, have been ravaged by wild boars, these have, in fact, of late become a real plague; and the dessa Kaligaweh is the principal scene of their nightly depredations. The main body of these formidable poachers finds, I am told, a refuge in the wild bush which surrounds the Djoerang (ravine) Pringapoes. This djoerang is a wild mountain cleft, and is situated very nearly in the centre of my division; the two dessas Banjoe Pahit and Kaligaweh, which are about five miles apart, lie on the outskirts of it; the one in the hilly country and the other in the lower grounds sloping down to the sea-shore. I have made up my mind to clear my district, as far as I can, of these mischievous creatures, and, for that purpose, I intend next Saturday and Sunday to hold a battue. I cannot possibly take any other days for it, as I cannot, at any other time, be away from my office. You see, therefore, my dear friends, that my letter to you is ‘Une invitation à la chasse,’ and that kind of thing, I know, you will not refuse. On Saturday morning I will send you a couple of first-rate horses which the wedono has offered me for the use of such of my friends as may like to join in the sport. I suppose that you will, both of you, be able to knock off work at about two o’clock; you will then want an hour to have a bath and to get your shooting-coats on. Pray don’t forget a pair of tall gaiters, which in our rough country and among our thorny bushes, you will find absolutely necessary. So that, say at three o’clock, you can be in the saddle. If you will only give your horses their heads I know they will easily carry you six miles an hour, so that at about five o’clock you will be at my house. That is agreed upon, is it not?”
“Certainly, by all means,” cried Charles and Edward both together, as if they wished to convey their acceptance of his invitation to the writer at Banjoe Pahit.
Said van Nerekool: “I must go and have a look at my gun, and I should think it would be well to take a couple of revolvers.”
“Of course,” said van Rheijn, “William says so in his letter. Just hear what he goes on to say. ‘Look well to your firearms, and see that they are in good order, for I can tell you that these pigs, when they are roused from their lair, are not by any means contemptible foes. You must, beside your guns, bring revolvers or, at least, a good hunting-knife, one you can fix on the end of your rifle, as a sword-bayonet.’ ”
“The devil we must!” said van Nerekool, “where in the world must I get all these things from? I shall have to try and borrow them somewhere I suppose. I have got a pretty good shot-gun of my own, but I can’t fix a bayonet to it. I don’t think it is much use except for shooting rice-birds, or sparrows. I must somehow manage to get hold of a rifle.”
“Well,” said van Rheijn, “the Regent of Santjoemeh, Radhen Mas Toemenggoeng Pringgoe Kesoemo has, I know, a splendid repeating rifle and a yatagan, and the Vice Regent has a pair of excellent Le Faucheux central-fire revolvers. I have no doubt they will gladly lend them to you.”
“Then the best thing for me to do is to go and pay a visit at the Regent’s house,” said van Nerekool.
“There is no need whatever to do that,” said van Rheijn. “There is to be a grand reception and ball at the Residence to-night. On such an occasion those native grandees are not at all likely to be absent. You will be there, I presume?” he continued, with a very meaning smile.