This was enough for me. I helped to force him to his legs.
“Martin! dear Martin! walk, run, make an effort! it is for your life!” I cried; and sensible, but hardly so, he did try; and so, getting him between us, and each taking hold of an arm, we ran him back towards the village. Fortunately, we soon fell in with two native men, and Prabu, crying to them, “The upas! the upas is in his veins!” they relieved us, and, being in full strength, ran forward with him. We followed, and Prabu went into the first cottage, and obtaining a cup of strong rice-spirit, poured it down his throat. The effect of this stimulant was very great, it revived him, and made him sensible that his life depended upon violent exercise, and, under Providence, his life was saved; for, after having run him to and fro for about an hour, he had shaken off that lethargy which, had it continued, must inevitably have destroyed him; and then, and not till then, we permitted him to enjoy a natural sleep, from which, after several hours, he awoke refreshed, and as well as ever.
“You have had a narrow escape,” said I, when he awoke.
“Yes, thanks to you, old fellow, and Prabu; but I wouldn’t mind going through it all again—I mean the terrible agony of being compelled to keep awake, walk, and run, when I felt as if I could willingly have given ten years of my life for a good sleep—if I could only have secured that rascal, who killed our father.”
“But it would be useless, Martin; for, you know, it is only a surmise; we have no proof,” said I, fearing that he had some inclination to go hunchback-hunting again.
“Aye, but we have proof that he robbed Ebberfeld’s home—that he stole Marie!”
“Well, well, we shall come across him again some day, and then we will force him to confess the whole truth,” I replied; not that I did not feel as strongly in the matter as my brother, but that I knew a word from me would have induced him to go in search of the snake-charmer. Fortunately, at that moment Prabu, who had been to have an audience of the chief, returned, and we all three at once made the best of our way to the prahu.
But a few words with my readers respecting this “upas-tree,” the juice of which nearly deprived me of a brother. It is, in a great degree, deserving of its bad reputation, no doubt; nevertheless, it is not by any means so black as it has been painted, notwithstanding all the nonsense that Monsieur Foerst, a French surgeon, invented, and Dr. Darwin promulgated in England, about it; for instance, that a particle of its juice, being inserted into the human body, caused instantaneous death, and that the atmosphere for a vast radius around the tree is fatal to animal life.
In the first place, the word “upas,” as applied only to one tree, is a misnomer; for in the Javanese and some other languages of the Western Archipelago, the word is not a specific term, but the common name for poison of any description whatever. Then, of the plants of the Indian islands, two at least afford a most subtle poison, either taken into the stomach or circulation—the anchar and the chetik. The former, the most common source of the vegetable poison in use, is one of the largest forest trees of the Archipelago, rising to the height of sixty or eighty feet, straight and large, before it sends out a single branch. It proves hurtful to no plant around it, and creepers and parasitical plants are found in abundance about it. The poison is in the outer bark, from which, when wounded, it flows in the form of a milk-white sap. In this state it is as deleterious as when, according to the practice of the natives, it is mixed with the juices of a quantity of extraneous aromatics and other matters, such as black pepper, ginger, arum, galanga, etc. When applied to the external skin, it produces intolerable pain and itching, with a kind of herpetic eruption. The inner bark resembles coarse cloth, and is frequently worn as such by the poorer peasantry, and occasionally converted into strong rope. Great care must, however, be taken in preparing it; for if any particles of the poisonous juice remain adhering to it when the cloth becomes moist, the wearer experiences intolerable itching.
The chetik is a large creeping shrub, with a stem occasionally so big as to approach to the character of a tree. It thrives in black, rich moulds. It is the bark of the root of this plant which affords the upas or poison, which is an extract of nearly the consistence of syrup, obtained by boiling it with water. The chetik is a more intense poison than the anchar, but, as far as we know, it is confined to Java. The anchar, on the contrary, appears to exist in almost every country of the Archipelago, being found in the Malay peninsula, in Sumatra, Borneo, Bali, and in Celebes, as well as in Java. The Malays call this last ipoh. Both are found only in the deepest recesses of the forest.