“Alas! of that also is the miserable and insignificant To-ki ignorant, but, like him, they were slaves and tools in the hands of a master.”
This answer was vexatious, and again I plied him with questions, but nothing more could I elicit. I did, however, find out that some time before he had fled from the hunchback, and had taken service with one of his countrymen, a merchant engaged chiefly in the bird’s-nest trade, and that the latter—as big a rogue as himself—had sent him, as one of the crew of a junk which was then at anchor off the coast, to receive the nests gathered by the cave-robbing natives with whom he was in league.
Finding I could obtain no further information, I got off his back; and although I knew that he could scarcely move, I threatened him with speedy death and the vengeance of the whole community of demons, in which he believed, if he dared to turn his face upwards until he had my permission.
Passing through the opening, I found myself standing upon a narrow ledge of rock, with a rolling sea at a great distance beneath, but not more than a hundred feet from the summit. As I had anticipated, the gatherers had left their rope, by means of which, and at the cost of much pain, I ascended.
The coast was clear—not a living soul to be seen. So far, so good. But where was I? Well, to ascertain, I clambered up the highest peak to survey the surrounding country, in the hope of discovering the whereabouts of the village; but no sign of human habitation met my eyes. No—naught but hill, dale, and thick jungle. The shades of night could not, I knew, be far off, but which way to turn puzzled me. I dared not remain—I feared to advance. Upon chance alone must I depend for assistance, and thus I invoked its good offices. Having a dollar in my pocket, I threw it into the air, resolving that head or tail should decide. If the former, I would proceed straight ahead; if the latter, I would take a direction totally the reverse. Straight ahead it was, and straight ahead down the hill I went, till I entered a wood: many of the trees were groaning beneath the weight of delicious fruits, upon which, I need scarcely say, I banqueted ravenously. A walk of about an hour brought me to a limpid stream: here I refreshed my inner man with copious draughts taken upon all-fours, and my outer by a luxurious bath; and now, if I had had no fear of such denizens of the woods and jungles as tigers and snakes, I felt strong enough to walk the night through; but even as it was, the remembrance that I still possessed a pistol and two or three charges gave me courage. So away I marched, endeavoring, by whistling a tune, to delude myself into a belief that I feared nought that could happen.
In a few minutes, however, my courage was put to the test. There was a rush in the surrounding jungle—a tiger, probably—at least, so I feared (for then I had never seen one of the brutes), and at once I began to scramble up the trunk of a large durian-tree near at hand; but there was as much danger from above as from below, for I had disturbed a school or family of monkeys, who, chattering and screaming, hurled the fruit at me. Luckily, the animals were not skilled in taking aim, for a blow from one of them from any height must have stunned me; and so I safely fixed myself astride a large branch some twenty feet from the ground, in a position in which I could see without being seen; and the next instant a noble buck bounded forth and fell dead at the foot. It had a spike—the spike of a nest-gatherer—in its side, the owner of which, almost simultaneously, knelt by the body of the slain animal. The sight of a man made my heart rejoice; but when in the hunter I recognized Prabu, my joy knew no bounds. Sliding down the trunk, I was the next instant in his arms—yes, literally in his arms, and being hugged, too, with hearty goodwill.
“God is great! But did my young master drop out of the moon?” he exclaimed.
“No, only out of a durian-tree,” said I. But then Prabu’s men and my brother came running through the opening made by the deer and its slayer. The former, at first believing they saw a ghost, stopped short, as if contemplating a quick retreat; but Martin ran forward, and, embracing me, gave way to the most extravagant joy—hurrahing, dancing, and capering about. Then suddenly, with his eyes filled with tears, he said:
“Claud, Claud, old fellow, I never thought to see you again alive. Oh! how terrible have been the hours since we parted! You must have had a squeak for it. But,” he added, “in the name of all that’s gracious, what lucky chance has brought you to this spot, and at the very nick of time, too?”
“A dollar,” I replied, for my mind was just then dwelling gratefully upon that coin.