The Rajah of Dah | Page 8

tide, which had helped them well on their upward journey, began to grow slack, then to pause; and the men rapidly rowed across to the edge of the mangroves, where the boat was made fast in the shade, and Hamet signified that they would rest now for some hours till the tide turned, and the sun was beginning to get low.
Food was produced, but Ned did not want much dinner, and sat with rather a disgusted look upon his countenance, gazing between the leaves at the surface of the river, watching for the muddy-looking prominences above the eyes of the crocodiles; and thinking how he should like to spend the next few days gliding about in a boat, sending bullets into the brains of the treacherous-looking brutes as they slowly swam about in the tidal stream.
The sound of heavy breathing made him turn his head at last to see that the Malays were all fast asleep, and that his uncle had followed their example; and as Ned looked, he could see the great drops of perspiration standing upon his forehead.
Perhaps it was the effect of seeing others asleep--perhaps the heat--at any rate, the result was that a drowsy sensation stole over the boy; and the dark leaves which touched the palm thatching of the roof, the metallic dazzling glare from the surface of the river, and the rippling sound of the water all passed away, as Ned dropped into a dreamless sleep, which lasted till he was touched by his uncle.
"Wake up, Ned. Going on."
"Have I been asleep?"
"Look for yourself."
The Malays were forcing the boat out into the stream once more, which, instead of glancing like molten silver with a glare which was painful to the eyes, now seemed to be of a deep glowing orange, the reflection of the wondrous sky rapidly changing in its refulgent hues from gold to orange, to a deep-red and purple, as the sun sank rapidly behind the great dark belt of trees on their left.
"The tide is just upon the turn again. Can't you feel that it is much cooler?"
"No, not yet," replied Ned. "I turned hot when we first got to Singapore, and I've never been cool since."
"Not when you plunged into the river?"
Ned gave him a sharp look.
"I don't remember anything about that," he replied; "but I say, uncle, you might let me have a shot at one of the crocs now."
Murray laughed, but made no reply, and they sat in silence watching the wonderful sunset, as the men, well refreshed, sent the boat along at a pretty good rate, the tide soon afterwards lending its help. This was kept on till long after dark, and the crew did not cease rowing till they came abreast of another tiny village. Here they fastened the boat to a post in company with a couple more, after exchanging a few words with some dusky-looking figures on the strip of shore, beyond which a group of huts could be just made out, backed by trees, which looked of an intense black, while above them was the purple sky spangled with stars which seemed double the size of those at home.
This time Ned was quite ready for his share of the evening meal, which was eaten in silence as the travellers sat watching a patch of bushes which grew where the mangroves ceased.
"Why, it's just like a little display of fireworks," Ned whispered. "As if the people there were letting them off because we had come."
"Yes; it is very beautiful. Look! they seem to flash out like the sparks in a wood fire, when the wind suddenly blows over it, and then go out again."
"Yes," said Ned thoughtfully; "our glow-worms that we used to find and bring back to put in the garden were nothing to them. Look at that!"
He pointed to where a bright streak of light glided through the darkness for a few yards, and then stopped suddenly, when all around it there was a fresh flashing out of the lights.
"Why, uncle!" cried Ned, "if we caught a lot of those and hung them up in a glass globe, we shouldn't want this lamp."
"I don't know how the experiment would answer, Ned," was the reply. "But it would be awkward to go plashing about in the mud and water to catch the fireflies, and we have no glass globe, while we have a lamp."
The coruscations of the fireflies seemed to fascinate Ned so much that he became quite silent at last, while the Malays sat huddled together chewing their betel, and talking in a low subdued tone. Then Murray struck a match to light his pipe, and the flash showed Ned's intent face.
"What's the matter, boy?"
"I was trying to puzzle it out, uncle."
"What?"
"Oh, there are three things," said Ned, as the half-burned match