Jungle and Stream: or, The Adventures of Two Boys in Siam. Fenn George Manville

King liked it too."

      "Oh yes, he likes it, or he would not let his son come."

      "Phra said his father wanted him to talk English as well as we do."

      "And very wise of him too, my boy. This country will have more and more dealing with England as the time goes on."

      Harry sat watching his father impatiently, longing the while to get out into the verandah, where he expected that the old hunter would be.

      "You are not eating, my boy," said Mr. Kenyon; "go on with your breakfast."

      "I've done, thank you, father."

      "Nonsense. You always have two cups of coffee. Get on with the meal. It is better to make a good breakfast than to wait till the middle of the day, when it is so hot."

      Harry began again unwillingly, and his father remarked upon it.

      "You want to get out there, but you told me you did not wish to see what the man has brought till your friend came."

      "Yes, I said so, father; but I should like Sree to tell me."

      "Finish your breakfast, and you will have plenty of time."

      Harry went on, and after the first few mouthfuls his healthy young appetite prevailed, and he concluded a hearty meal.

      "There, you can go now," said his father. "Call me when the Prince comes."

      Harry Kenyon hurried out into the broad verandah, and then along two sides of the square bungalow so as to reach the back, where sat a little, wrinkled-faced, square-shaped, yellow-skinned man, with his face and head shaved along the sides as high as the tips of his ears, leaving a short, stubbly tuft of grizzled hair extended backward from the man's low forehead to the nape of his neck, looking for all the world like the hair out of a blacking-brush stretched over the top of his head.

      His dress was as scanty as that of his two muscular young companions, consisting as it did of a cotton plaid sarong or scarf of once bright colours, but now dull in hue from long usage, and a good deal torn and tattered by forcing a way through the jungle. This was doubled lengthwise and drawn round the loins, and then tightened at the waist by giving the edge of the sarong a peculiar twist and tuck in, thus forming a waist-belt in which in each case was stuck a dagger-like kris, with pistol-shaped handle and wooden sheath to hold the wavy blade, and a parang or heavy sword used in travelling to hack a way through the jungle and form a path by chopping through tangled rotan or tufts of bamboo, or lawyer cane.

      The three men were squatted on their heels, with their mouths distended and lips scarlet, chewing away at pieces of betel-nut previously rolled in a pepper-leaf, which had first been smeared with what looked like so much white paste, but which was in fact lime, made by burning the white coral, abundant along some portion of the shores, and rising inland to quite mountainous height.

      As soon as Harry came in sight, all rose up, smiling, and the elder man wanted to exhibit the prize contained within the great square basket standing on the bamboo flooring, while two stout bamboos, each about eight feet long, were stood up against the house, a couple of loops on either side of the basket showing where the bamboo poles had been thrust through so that the basket could hang dependent from the two men's shoulders.

      "What have you got, Sree?" asked Harry, in English, which from long service with Mr. Kenyon, and mixing with other colonists, Sree spoke plainly enough to make himself understood.

      "Big thing, Sahib. Very heavy."

      "Bear?"

      The man made a sign, and his two followers grinned with enjoyment, and seated themselves on the basket, which squeaked loudly.

      "What did you do that for?" cried Harry.

      "The young Sahib must wait till the old Sahib comes, and then he see."

      "Old Sahib, indeed!" cried Harry; "why, my father isn't half so old as you."

      "The young Sahib wait."

      "Of course I can wait," said Harry pettishly, "and I was going to wait. I only asked you what it was."

      The man smiled, and shook his head mysteriously, and just then Mike thrust his head out of the door.

      "Ah, got back, Mike!" cried Harry. "What did the Prince say?"

      "Come on almost directly, sir; but I had no end of a job to get to see him."

      "How was that?"

      "Oh, those guard chaps; soldiers, I s'pose they call themselves. They're a deal too handy with those spears of theirs. They ought to be told that they mustn't point them at an Englishman's breast."

      "Oh, it's only because they're on duty, Mike," replied Harry.

      "Wouldn't make any difference to me, sir, whether it was on dooty or off dooty if one of them was to go inside my chest."

      "Oh, you needn't be afraid of that."

      "Afraid! Oh, come, I like that, Master Harry – afraid! Not likely to be afraid of any number of the squatty, yellow-skinned chaps, but they oughtn't to be allowed to carry such things. Fancy Englishmen at home all going about carrying area railings in their hands."

      Harry shook his head, for his recollections of spear-pointed area railings were very vague.

      "Don't matter, sir," said Mike, "they don't know any better; but I know I shall get in a row one of these days for giving one of 'em a smeller right on the nose."

      "Nonsense! you mustn't do that, Mike."

      "Why not, sir? Couldn't do no harm; they're as flat as flat as it is."

      "You know what my father said about keeping on good terms with the natives."

      "Yes, sir, I know, sir, but fair play's a jewel; if I keep on good terms with them they ought to keep on good terms with me, and sticking a spear-point into a man's wesket aren't the sort o' terms I like. 'Specially when you know the things are poisoned."

      "Nonsense! The Prince assured me they were not."

      "Well, those ugly, twisty krises are, sir."

      "No. The only danger from them is their sharp point."

      "Well, that's bad enough, sir; but how about the thing you've got yonder? What is it, Master Harry?" he asked.

      "Come out and see. Don't stand there with your head just stuck out like a snake in a hole looking to see if it's safe."

      "Well, but is it safe, sir?"

      "Come and see. If it's safe enough for me to be out here, it's safe enough for you."

      Mike evidently considered this reply unanswerable, for he came out slowly and cautiously, the two men seated on the hamper-like basket evidently enjoying the man's timidity. They glanced at Harry inquiringly, and he gave them a quick nod of assent, with the result that as Mike was passing them, with divers suspicious glances at their seat, they made a sudden spring together, as if the occupant of the bamboo covering had suddenly and by a tremendous effort raised the lid. There was a loud creaking, and with a rush Mike was back through the door, which he banged to.

      The old hunter, who had seated himself to prepare a fresh piece of betel-nut for chewing, laughed till the tears ran down his cheeks, while his two bearers drew their feet up and squatted now upon the basket lid, chuckling with delight, and looking to Harry as if expecting a fresh hint for startling Mike.

      Harry went to the door and pushed at it, finding it give a little, but only to be pressed to directly, as if by Mike's shoulder.

      "Here, it's all right; open the door," cried Harry. "He didn't get out."

      The door was opened cautiously, and Mike's head slowly appeared, to look from one to the other and encounter faces that were serious now almost to solemnity.

      "I thought he'd got out, sir," said Mike.

      "Oh no, he's safe enough; look how they've fastened the lid down with bamboo skewers."

      "Yes, sir, but some o' them things is so awful strong. What is it – tiger?"

      "Oh no, it's not a tiger, Mike. A tiger would scratch and kick a basket like that to pieces in no time."

      "Of