“True, sahib,” said Prabu, who, with his men, had just landed; “but at daybreak, the devils will be upon us by hundreds.”
“Then won’t we give them a warm welcome, that’s all,” replied Martin. But he added: “Sufficient for the hour is the evil thereof; so, in the meantime, that we may have strength and pluck enough to meet them, let all of us but one snatch a few hours’ rest.”
“No,” replied Prabu, “that would not be wise—a sandbank must be thrown up for defense; the sahibs, however, may sleep three hours, when we will awaken them to keep watch while we sleep.”
“Very good, so be it,” said Martin. Then, with the aid of two or three of the men, we cut some branches and leaves from a large cocoa-nut tree, and erected a temporary hut; after which, lighting a fire at the opening, as a preventive against the foul vapors of the morass, we loaded our rifles, placed them carefully upon the earth, and, stretching ourselves at full length by their side, fell off to sleep. I must add that, to relieve our heated and sore feet, we threw off boots and socks.
Now, the toil and excitement we had undergone seemed to have a very different effect upon me to what it had upon my brother; for while he slept soundly, I was restless and wakeful—that is, I suppose, I must have had what is called a cat’s sleep. By the way, why a cat’s sleep should be a synonym for wakefulness, I could never understand; for since those days I have had many cats, very fine, sensible cats, too, and by closely watching their habits, have ever found, providing they were properly and carefully brought up—i. e., treated kindly and well-fed—that they sleep quite as soundly, aye, and snore and dream, too, as well as any alderman after a corporation dinner.
But to return to my sleep that night: it must have been very restless, for at a slight rustling noise, I became wide awake, and, gently raising upon my arm, and looking towards my brother, a cold shudder ran through my frame; for, by the light of the fire, I saw a great serpent crawling towards him.
The slightest noise would have caused the reptile to attack him, while it was just possible that, as Martin lay motionless, it might pass over him without injury. “For possibly,” I thought, “it has been aroused from a state of torpor by the heat of the fire, which it is evidently making toward.” Thus, with breathless anxiety, I watched it advance. It crawled across his legs, its head was upon his naked feet—and my heart seemed in my mouth. I felt inclined to snatch up my rifle—but no. Providentially, I had sufficient presence of mind to resist the temptation, and in another instant it had passed out of the opening, and I could have cried for joy. But then it occurred to me that it might attack one of the sleepers without; for some of our men, I knew, must by this time have lain themselves down, for a yellow streak in the horizon told me it could not be far from daybreak.
This was enough. I jumped up, and, taking my rifle, followed the serpent. It was still gliding onwards, but, hearing my footsteps, it erected its crest and turned around. There was now no alternative; in an instant the contents of my rifle were in its head. But, simultaneously, a man sprang upwards, and then fell heavily backwards, as if shot.
“Great Heaven!” I exclaimed, “I have killed a man!”
Not so, however, for again he arose with a cry of “Malik,—they are coming,” doubtlessly believing that the Balinese had landed; and in a minute, Martin, Prabu, and the whole of our party were by my side.