Still, our position was not by any means enviable: for we were obliged to keep along the river-banks, with the chances of a tiger suddenly springing from the jungle on one side, or a crocodile from the other, without arms for our defense, and without shoes to protect our feet and aid our running.
“Truly,” said Martin, “we should make a couple of nice morsels for the breakfast of any tiger or crocodile out for an early stroll; but I don’t care half so much about that, as the laugh they will have at us on board the prahu.”
“Well, let us make the best of it, Martin; for, at least, we shall have a palmy time of it before we reach the prahu.”
“Have done, Claud—don’t pun. Don’t you know it has been said, that a man who will make a pun will pick a pocket?”
“He would be a clever man who could pick ours now, Martin,” said I. “But see, yonder is the carcase of the crocodile.”
“This is lucky, for we can’t be a great distance from the mouth of the river. But, look you—yonder is a better sight,” he added, pointing to a bend of the river, around which a man was paddling a sampan at a rapid rate.
“Hurrah, old boy!” I cried; for it was Kati, on his return from the town.
“I don’t cry hurrah, Claud, for I feel as if I should like to shrink into my shoes.”
“The Chinese has prevented any such feat, Martin.”
“Oh, bother, Claud! but how shall we make him see us, for he is looking neither to the right nor to the left?”