Trapped by Malays Part 60

"That's what you are always saying."

"That's true, sir; but you can't say but what it sometimes turns up trumps."

"Well, go on. What boat?"

"Any boat, sir. Anybody's boat. Why not smuggle the one we had when we went fis.h.i.+ng?"

"We can't do that again. There's a fresh rumour that Rajah Hamet is bringing his men up there; and we may have an attack from the lower river at any time."

"Oh, that settles it, then," said Peter. "We must have them cartridges before those fresh reinforcements come. All right, then, sir. We must creep round right away outside the camp, and get to the water-side half a mile beyond the spot where I was on duty and hailed you that night.

There's sure to be boats up there."

"Very likely. What then? But if there are they will be anch.o.r.ed right out in the river. How are we to get one?"

"Swim," said Peter laconically.

"And the crocs?"

"Chance it," said Peter.

"Ugh!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Archie.

"'Tain't tempting, sir, but I'm game. Look here, Mister Archie,"

continued the lad; "they say British soldiers are odd fish--and so they are--but bad as we want cartridges, ain't four hundred of them, all new, and waiting to be used, at a time when every lad's pouch is empty, a big enough bait to make any British soldier bite? Come on, sir; chance it!"

"I will, Pete; and if one of those hideous reptiles takes me down--well, I shall have died for my country."

"I won't, sir," said Peter fiercely, "but I'll die for him. I mean, I will disagree with him this 'ere way. Of course I should leave my rifle at home, but I should go that journey with a naked bayonet in my belt, and it will go rather hard before he settles me if I don't find time to put it into his fatigue-jacket here and there."

"Yes, Pete; and, as you say, we will chance it. But when we have got the boat, what then?"

"Lie quietly in the bottom, sir, and let it float down till we are off the foot of the Doctor's garden, and then one of us will hold it ready and drop down the anchor-stone or the grapnel, and there we are."

"But suppose some of the Malays are already in the house."

"No, we won't, sir. We are not going to suppose anything of the kind.

We are going to chance it, sir."

"That's right, Pete. When shall we start?"

"What do you say, sir?"

"I say to-night, directly after Last Post."

"Last Post it is, sir."

Peter had not lost the memory of differences of position, but he was thinking of two men binding themselves upon a perilous compact that might mean death to both, as he slowly stole forward a very dirty hand.

The young officer to whom it was extended on his part did not see in his companion a private, but the brave, tried comrade, as he caught Peter's powder-grimed hand in a warm grasp.

And Archie's hand was just as grubby.

CHAPTER THIRTY NINE.

A DARK EXPLOIT.

"It seems so stupid, Pete, going all this way round in the black darkness to get at the bungalow, when ten minutes at the outside would have taken us there."

"That's right, Mister Archie. What was it--five hundred yards?"

"Somewhere about; but if we had tried to walk there, how far should we have got before we had spears through us?"

"About five-and-twenty, sir, or thirty; and then we shouldn't have got the cartridges. But, I say, this is about the darkest dark night I ever remember. Glad I ain't on sentry-go. Can you make out where we are?"

"Yes. Can't you?"

"No, sir; we come such a long way round. But as far as I can make out, we are somewhere at the back of them big trees where they fed the helephants on Sham-Fight Day."

"Yes, I think that's right," whispered Archie, as they knelt together whispering. "But let's get on; we must hit the river somewhere."

"Hope so, sir. It will be softer than hitting your head against trees.

I did get a poke just now when I went down, and it has made my nose bleed wonderful."

"How tiresome! Let's get to the river, and the cold water will soon stop it."

"All right, sir."

They had been creeping along for the most part on all fours for the past hour since starting, so as to avoid friends and enemies, for they had been expecting at any moment to hear a challenge from one of their own outposts or receive a thrust from a Malay spear. But so far success had attended them, and Peter had just caught hold of his officer's arm to whisper that he could smell the river, but he said instead:

"'Ware hawk, Mister Archie!"

And the next moment there was a rush of feet, a rough-and-tumble scuffle, the sound of blows, and Archie was down on his knees, panting and trying hard to get his breath silently so that he should not be heard.

"It's all over," he thought, "unless I can do it myself. Poor old Pete!

I wonder where he is."

He crouched a little lower as he heard the rustling of bushes a short distance away, and he did not stir till the sounds died out, when, guessing more than knowing where the river was, he made a slight movement, and felt himself seized by the throat.

"You stir, and--"

"That you, Pete?"

"Mister Archie! My! You have done me good! Let's lie down, put our heads together, and whisper. There were three of them, I think, and one may have stopped back."

"It was our fellows, wasn't it?"

"Yes, sir; and I know who one of them was. Didn't you get a crack on the back?"