Trapped by Malays - Part 57
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Part 57

"No, Pete; I didn't catch that."

"Ah, well, he would be, sir, because he didn't get away fast enough. A chap who would do a thing like that wouldn't feel sorry for it if he hadn't got caught.--I say, _pst_! Look here, Mister Archie."

"What is it?"

"I was only just in time to catch sight of them. Think of it! I only turned my head to talk to you, but two of them took advantage and crept right close up behind that bush. Can you see 'em?"

"No."

"Well, I can, sir, or think I can, because I saw them for a moment as they dashed in. You stand back from the window, sir. There's only shelter for one, and that's me."

"Are you going to fire?"

"Don't quite know, sir. Depends on them. They must have seen you when you stood looking out before that Frenchman began to talk. I could send a shot right through the bush, and it might hit one of them; but then it mightn't, and I should have wasted a cartridge. I think I'll wait till they come out to shoot or chuck a spear, and then I can be sure. What do you say?"

"That will be quite right, Pete; and I will go on now. Why, Joe Smithers ought to be able to spot any one hiding behind that bush. I'll go round by where he's posted and see."

"Ought to be able to see for hisself," grumbled Peter; and as Archie turned to reach the door, unaware of the fact that he was exposing himself a little, Peter raised his rifle to his shoulder and fired a snap shot, just as simultaneously Archie started at the brushing by his cheek of a spear which came through the window with a low trajectory and stuck with a soft _thud_ into something at the far end of the room.

"Missed him!" said Peter in an angry, impatient way. "No, I ain't. It was only chance it, though. Ah! Would you?" For another spear flashed through the window, making one of the young men duck down, while the other started aside.

Then their eyes met in a curious look of horror, and for a few minutes neither spoke.

"Think of that, now, Mister Archie!" said Peter, as his trembling fingers were playing about the breech of his rifle.

"Horrible!" said Archie, as he recalled the confession to which he had listened.

"Yes, sir; 'orrid, ain't it? And that was a chance shot, too, though he meant it for you. I say, sir, he won't blow up no more magazines;" and Peter made a great smudge across his moist forehead with his powder-blackened hand. For the second spear had found its billet in the chest of the Frenchman, whose sufferings were at an end.

CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN.

THE DOCTOR'S CARTRIDGES.

The position of the beleaguered occupants of the Residency grew worse and worse. There had been three different brief despatches from the detachments, but the information conveyed was very small. In each case the commander announced that he was in full pursuit of the Rajah, who had thrown off the mask and taken to the jungle; and after reading the despatches over to the Resident the Major had uttered a grunt and said:

"One would think there were three Rajahs instead of one."

He had sent replies by native runners, urging upon his subordinates the necessity for an immediate return, so as to strengthen the position of the Residency, and stating that, from news that had come in, it was evident that Rajah Hamet had also thrown off the mask and was waiting, undoubtedly to make an attack in conjunction with Rajah Suleiman.

"We shall be hard pressed," he said emphatically, "and I must call upon you to rally at once. Sir Charles is sending a despatch to Singapore, telling of the uneasy state of the native princes, and the sore straits in which we find ourselves; but it will be some time before a messenger can reach the Governor, and Suleiman's men are pressing me hard. As you well know, it must be many days before a gunboat can reach us here."

No reply reached headquarters, for, however wanting in generalship Suleiman might have been, he took care that no messengers should pa.s.s his people in either direction, and, in fact, the Major's appeal to his officers never reached their hands, and the cunning Malays kept up the appearance of being in full retreat, leading the detachments farther and farther into the intricate mazes of the jungle.

Meanwhile it was not only the ammunition that was running out but the provisions. But there was an ample supply in the various stores of the settlement, and these under ordinary circ.u.mstances would have been largely supplemented at the little market held by the people of the neighbouring campongs. But after the attack by Suleiman's men not a single native made his appearance, and, as was afterwards proved, no Malay, save at the risk of losing his life, dared to approach the military quarters.

"It seems so hard," said the Resident, "that after Dr Morley and I had gone over the matter as we did respecting provisioning the place, we should not have made other arrangements for warehousing our permanent supplies. I felt that, with a strong military force for the protection of the storehouses, nothing more could be done."

"No; n.o.body blames you, Sir Charles, for no foresight could have seen that the place would be denuded of troops, and that the enemy would close us in so completely that no man could approach a ware or store house without risking having a spear in his back."

"Ah," said the Doctor, "it's lucky for us all that I beat you, Major, and got my well dug."

"Yes, Morley," said the Major sharply; "and no one's more glad than I am. But you needn't tell us all about it quite so often."

The Doctor chuckled, for in spite of the terrible demands that were made upon him he was generally in pretty good spirits.

"Well, I won't say any more about it, but you military men, who get all the honour and glory, might let your poor doctor have a little bit of praise."

"Well, what's to be done? We must have a couple or more sacks of that Indian meal from the store to-day. We cannot sit here and starve. And at the same time more of the necessaries of life, or what we have in time come to consider necessaries, must be obtained for the women and children."

"Yes," said the Doctor. "My hands are full with dealing with the wounded. I can't have the poor, starving women coming into hospital to be treated for exhaustion, and the children upon my hands dying like flies."

"No," said the Major; "we must call for volunteers, Sir Charles, to cut our way through the enemy to the store."

"No, no," said the Doctor; "I forbid that."

"Why?" said the Major angrily.

"Because it means half-a-dozen or a dozen more wounded men to crowd my hospital."

"Hah!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the Major. "And I can't spare one."

"Then look here," said the Doctor; "call for your volunteers--or for one volunteer at a time. You see, with their cunning and subtlety they know beforehand that we must be ready to do anything to get at the stores, and consequently they keep the strictest watch, with spearmen ready to let fly at any poor wretch who approaches either of the buildings."

"Yes, yes, we know that, Doctor," said the Resident peevishly.

"Then why don't you meet cunning with cunning?" replied the Doctor.

"Surely the Major can pick up some clever, sharp fellow who will crawl in the darkness past the enemy's pickets and bring back something, if it's only one sack of meal."

"That would be better than nothing, Doctor.--We'll try; eh, Major?"

"Of course; of course."

The little council of war was being held in the hottest part of the day, when the attacking enemy seemed to have drawn off for a while amongst the trees, and most of the beleaguered were grouped around in the shadow of veranda and tree to listen to the discussion.

"Well," said the Resident, "I can't ask either of my native servants who have been true to us to risk his life for us. We should never see them again, for the enemy would be sure to make an extra effort to spear them."

"Quite out of the question, Sir Charles," said the Doctor.--"Now, Major, we must look to you again.--What's that, Mrs Smithers?"

"I was only going to say, sir, that my Joe is a big, strong fellow, and he'll volunteer to try and get a sack of flour to-night."

"Eh? What's that?" cried the private.

"You heard what was said, Joe. What do you mean by shaking your head like that?"

"Oh, I'm not the right man," he said. "I can carry my rifle, but I'm an out-and-out bad one at carrying sacks."

"Nonsense, Joe," said his wife. "You can do anything that a British soldier can."