The Rajah of Dah | Page 2

quite a picnic, instead of what must be a dangerous
expedition."
"My dear Wilson," said the principal occupant of the boat, merrily,
"you shut yourself up so much in your bungalow, and lead such a
serious plodding life over your merchandise and cargoes, that you see
danger in a paddle across the river."
"Ah, well, perhaps I do," said the merchant, taking off his light pith
sun-hat to wipe his shining brow. "You really mean to go right up the
river, then?"
"Of course. What did you think I made these preparations for?"

"To make a few short expeditions, and come back to me to sleep and
feed. Well, if you will go, good-luck go with you. I don't think I can do
any more for you. I believe you may trust those fellows," he added in a
low voice, after a glance at the four bronzed-looking strong-armed
Malay boatmen, each with a scarlet handkerchief bound about his black
hair as he sat listlessly in the boat, his lids nearly drawn over his brown
lurid-looking eyes, and his thick lips more protruded than was natural,
as he seemed to have turned himself into an ox-like animal and to be
chewing his cud.
"You could not have done more for me, Wilson, if I had been your
brother."
"All Englishmen and Scotsmen are brothers out in a place like this,"
said the merchant, warmly. "Go rather hard with some of us if we did
not stick to that creed. Well, look here, if ever you get into any scrape
up yonder, send down a message to me at once."
"To say, for instance, that a tiger has walked off with Ned here."
"Oh I say, uncle!" cried the boy.
"No, no, I mean with the niggers. They're a rum lot, some of them.
Trust them as far as you can see them. Be firm. They're cunning; but
just like children in some things."
"They're right enough, man, if you don't tread on their corns. I always
find them civil enough to me. But if we do get into trouble, what shall
you do?"
"Send you help of course, somehow. But you will not be able to send a
letter," added the merchant thoughtfully. "Look here. If you are in
trouble from sickness, or hurt by any wild animal, get some Malay
fellow from one of the campongs to bring down a handkerchief--a
white one. But if you are in peril from the people up yonder, send a red
one, either your own or one of the boatmen's. You will find it easy to
get a red rag of some sort."

"I see," said Murray, smiling. "White, sickness; red, bloodshed.--I say
Ned, hear all this?"
"Yes, uncle."
"Well; don't you feel scared?"
"Horribly, uncle," said the boy, coolly.
"Will you give up, and stop here in Dindong?"
The boy looked full in the speaker's face, thrust his hands into the
pockets of his brown linen trousers, and began to whistle softly.
"There, good-bye, Wilson. The sun will soon be overpowering, and I
want to get on."
"Well, you've got the tide to help you for the next three hours. Sorry
you're going. I'll take great care of the specimens you send down. You
can trust any of the boat-people--they know me so well. Any fellow
coming down with rice or tin will bring a box or basket. God bless you
both! Good-bye!"
There was a warm hand-shaking.
"Take care of yourself, Ned, my boy, and don't let your uncle work you
too hard.--Good-bye, my lads. Take great care of the sahibs."
The Malay boatmen seemed to have suddenly wakened up, and they
sprang to their places, responded with a grave smile to the merchant's
adjuration, pushed off the boat, and in a few minutes were rowing
easily out into the full tide, whose muddy waters flowed like so much
oil up past the little settlement, upon whose wharf the white figure of
the merchant could be seen in the brilliant sunshine waving his hand.
Then, as the occupants of the boat sat in the shade of their palm-leaf
awning, they saw a faint blue smoke arise, as he lit a cigar and stood
watching the retiring party. The house, huts, and stores about the little
wharf began to grow distant and look toy-like, the shores to display the

dull, green fringe of mangrove, with its curiously-arched roots joining
together where the stem shot up, and beneath which the muddy water
glided, whispering and lapping. And then the oars creaked faintly, as
the boat was urged more and more out into mid-stream, till the shore
was a quarter of a mile away; and at last the silence was broken by the
boy, whose face was flushed with excitement, as he stood gazing up the
smooth river,