A royal smuggler

by William Dalton

To this Prabu replied, by explaining that there were two species of swallow in the caves—one that produced the edible-nests, another that built near the entrance, but which were always at enmity with their more valuable neighbors, whom they were in the habit of disturbing and attacking.

Advancing, torch in hand, Prabu led us to what at first appeared to be the furthermost end of the cavern; but suddenly placing himself upon all-fours, or rather all threes, for in one of his hands he held the torch, he crept through an aperture barely large enough to admit one person. We followed, and then found ourselves in what, from the sound, for we could not see, seemed to be a very large excavation in the rock. Here two other torches were lighted, and being fixed in the earth—which, by the way, seemed entirely formed of guano, or the dung of the swallows—the whole party began to unpack their bamboo poles. These they lashed securely end to end, till they had constructed between them six poles, each of the enormous length of ninety or one hundred feet. I looked on with surprise, for the purpose of these bamboos had not occurred to me till now. By means of these the natives would ascend to the nests, which are invariably placed near the top of the caves.

The poles being completed, Prabu, Kati, and four others, placing them upon their shoulders, followed four men, who waved lighted torches above their heads, as if to see in which spots the nests most abounded. Experience, however, must have been their greatest friend, for the eye could not pierce the opaque mass between them and the roof. No, it was only when the places had been chosen, the poles fixed, and each man, torch in hand, and by aid of deep notches cut in his pole, had clambered to its utmost height, that we could see the vast size of the cave in which we stood; and which, by the way, we afterward discovered was used by the gatherers as a habitation during the nesting-season.

As, before permitting Martin and I to descend to the caves, it had been Prabu’s policy to let us first watch the natives, so he insisted that we should study the monkey-like facility with which his men clambered up the poles and remained thereupon, before he would permit us to attempt the same feat.

For some time we complied, but, then, nest-gathering is so tedious a process that we became impatient of waiting, and resolved to try our hands. Thus, we took up some of the spare bamboos, and began to lash them together; but, comprehending our intention, one of the natives told us that it was useless, for there were no more stations for poles in that cave.

“Then look you, my friend, we will try another cave,” replied Martin. “For I take it,” he added—as he pointed to a barely distinguishable opening in the rock, at a short distance from where we were standing—“that hole is the entrance to a cavern of some kind. At any rate, we will explore it.”

“S’pose sahibs go dere, dey no come back; no man ebber do ’scape dat cave ob debels.” Then, to frighten us the more (at least, so we thought), he told us that, during the last nesting-season, three villagers had, against the wishes of their friends, entered the cavern, but that they had never since been heard of.

“Bother! what fudge!” cried Martin, rudely. “At any rate, Claud,” he added, “we can leave the poles here, while we first have a look at the interior, and so judge for ourselves.”

Accordingly, regardless of the many well-meant warnings, we lighted our torches and passed through the fissure; and in that instance I was as wrong-headed or obstinate as my brother, for I led the way. At the time I felt rather surprised that Prabu, even from the top of the pole at which he was perched, did not descend and stop our departure; for had he but glanced downwards, and seen our lighted torches, he must have known we were about entering the cave terrible even to the most daring of the nest-hunters. But afterwards I found that the thoughts, both of Prabu and Kati, were absorbed in their occupation; for, unexpectedly, they had fallen upon what miners would call a new vein—i. e., a cluster of the finest white or cock’s nests. But that you may the better comprehend the value of their discovery, I must explain that as an article of commerce, the quality of the nest is determined by several circumstances; for instance, the nature and situation of the cave, its extent, but, above all, the time at which the nest is taken. The best are those gathered in deep, damp caves, and before the birds have laid their eggs; and in a superlative degree are those of the cock-birds, who, having a separate establishment from that of their wives and children, are not so much soiled as those of the lady-birds, with whom reside the little feathered people. Upon the other hand, the coarsest and least valuable nests are those obtained after the birth and short-clothing of the children—these being dark-colored, and streaked with infantine feathers. I may here notice one singular fact connected with nest-gathering: it is, that although they are collected twice a year, providing no unusual and violent injury be offered to the cavern, they yield as productively as if left altogether unmolested for two or three years. So, you see, the birds speedily recover from their fright and indignation at the loss of their homesteads.

But to return to my narrative. Upon entering the opening, we found it so narrow that it was with difficulty we could walk in single file; nay, at every step, one shoulder or the other grazed the sides, causing a most unpleasant sensation—a kind of dread that the walls would collapse, crushing us between them; and thus contracted did we find them for a distance of at least a quarter of a mile, but then we came to an opening of about double the width on the right-hand side; and, foolish as it may seem, and as it really was, we chose to enter that path only for its greater width. But no—we had another motive; there was a slight wind.