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

course he would, sir. I say, Master Harry, hadn't you better tell old Sree to get up and sit on the basket too?"

      "Hardly room, is there?" said Harry seriously.

      "Plenty, sir, if you make those chaps squeedge up together a bit."

      "But the basket's so tickle, Mike, and their weight might send it over sidewise. If it did the basket would go nearly flat, the lid would be burst off, and where should be we then?"

      "I know where I should be, sir," said Mike – "indoors."

      "You wouldn't have time, for those beasts are so wonderfully active that this one would be out of the basket like a flash of lightning."

      "Would he, sir? Then don't you do it. Let him be. What is it, sir – a leopard?"

      "Oh no, not a leopard, Mike."

      "What, then? One of those big monkeys we've never yet got a sight of?"

      "Monkey? Oh no."

      "What is it, then, sir?"

      "Well, you see, Mike, I don't know myself yet," said Harry, laughing.

      Mike looked at him sharply, then at the three Siamese, whose faces were contorted with mirth, and back at his young master.

      "Humbugging me," he said sharply. "That's it, is it, Master Harry?

      Yah! I don't believe there's anything in the old hamper at all."

      He went round the basket from the other direction, so as to reach the door, and as he got behind the two men on the lid, he turned.

      "I do wonder at you, Master Harry, laughing at a fellow like that, and setting these niggers to make fun of me. Yah!"

      He raised one foot and delivered a tremendous kick at the bottom of the basket, startling the two squatting men on the lid so that one sprang up and the other leaped off on to the bamboo floor of the verandah, while a violent commotion inside the basket showed that its occupant had also been disturbed.

      "Something else for you to laugh at," said Mike, and he slipped in and closed the door.

      Harry smiled, the man returned to his perch on the lid, frowning and looking very serious, while the occupant of the basket settled down quietly again, making Harry more curious than ever as to what it might be; but he mastered his desire to go and peer through the split bamboo so tightly woven together, and waited impatiently for the coming of his friend and companion.

      "I believe it's a big monkey, after all," he said to himself. "Sree always said he was sure there were monsters right away in the jungle, just about the same as the one father saw at Singapore, brought from Borneo. It was precious quiet, though, till Mike kicked the basket. How savage it made him to be laughed at!"

      He glanced at the basket again, and then at the old hunter and his men, all three squatting down on their heels, chewing away at their betel-nut, and evidently in calm, restful enjoyment of the habit.

      "Just like three cows chewing their cud," said Harry to himself, and then feeling that it was the best way to avoid the temptation to look into the basket, he went along the verandah to the corner of the house, just as his father reached the next corner, coming to join them.

      "Well, has Phra come?" he cried.

      "No, father, not yet."

      "Found out what's in the basket?" said Mr. Kenyon, smiling.

      "No; haven't looked."

      "Well done, Hal; I didn't give you credit for so much self-denial. But there, I think we have waited long enough. Let's go and see now what we've got."

      "No, no, don't do that," said Harry excitedly. "Phra would be so disappointed if we began before he had time to get here."

      "Ah well, he will not be disappointed," said Mr. Kenyon, "for here he is."

      As he spoke a boat came in sight, gliding along the river at the bottom of the garden – a handsomely made boat, propelled by a couple of rowers standing one in the bow, the other astern, facing the way they were going, and propelling the vessel after the fashion of Venetian gondoliers, their oars being secured to a stout peg in the side by a loop of hemp.

      Harry started off down the garden to meet the passenger, who was seated amidships beneath an awning; and as the men ran the craft deftly up to the landing-place, a dark-complexioned, black-haired lad sprang on to the bamboo platform, looking wonderfully European as to his dress, for it was simply of white flannel. It was the little scarlet military cap and the brightly tinted plaid sarong with kris at the waist which gave the Eastern tinge to his appearance.

      "Well," he said, in excellent English, as he joined Harry, "what have they got? Something from their traps in the jungle?"

      "Don't know anything. There they are yonder. We waited till you came."

      "Oh," said the Siamese lad, with a gratified look, "I like that. I'm afraid I shouldn't have waited, Hal."

      "Oh, but then you're a prince," said Harry.

      The Siamese lad stopped short.

      "If you're going to chaff me about that, I shall go back," he said.

      "All right; I won't then," said Harry. "You can't help it, can you?"

      "Of course I can't, and I shan't be able to help it when I'm king some day."

      "Poor fellow, no; how horrible!" said Harry mockingly.

      "There you go again. You've got one of your teasing fits on to-day."

      "No, no, I haven't. It's all right, Phra, and I won't say another word of that sort. Come along."

      "Good-morning," said Mr. Kenyon, as the boys reached the verandah.

      "Come to see our prize?"

      "Yes, Mr. Kenyon. What is it you have this time?"

      "We are waiting to see. Harry here wanted it to be kept for you."

      The new-comer turned to give Harry a grateful nod and a smile, and then walked with his host along the verandah, and turned the corner.

      The moment he appeared, the hunter and the two men leaped up excitedly and dropped upon their knees, raising their hands to the sides of their faces and lowering their heads till their foreheads nearly touched the bamboo floor.

      The young Prince said a few words sharply in his own language, and the men sprang up.

      "Now then, Mr. Kenyon," he said, "let's see what is in the basket."

      "What have you got, Sree?" asked Mr. Kenyon.

      "Very fine, big snake, Sahib," was the reply.

      "A snake?" cried Harry excitedly. "Ugh!"

      "A big one?" said the merchant uneasily. Then, recalling the habit of exaggeration so freely indulged in by these people as a rule, he asked the size.

      "Long as two men and a half, Sahib," said Sree. "Very thick, like man's leg. Very heavy to carry."

      "Humph! Twelve or fourteen feet long, I suppose," said Mr. Kenyon. "Is it dangerous?"

      "No, Sahib. I find him asleep in the jungle. He eat too much; go to sleep for long time. Didn't try to bite when we lift him into the basket. Very heavy."

      "What do you say, Prince?" said the merchant. "Shall we have the lid off and look at it?"

      "Yes. I won't be afraid," was the reply. "Will you, Hal?"

      "Not if the brute's asleep; but if it's awake and pops out at us, I shall run for your boat."

      "And leave your poor father in the lurch?" said Mr. Kenyon.

      "But you'd run too, wouldn't you, father?"

      "Not if the snake threw one of its coils round me."

      "Then I suppose I shall have to stay," said Harry slowly.

      "Perhaps it would be as well," said Mr. Kenyon drily – "You won't run, will you?"

      The young Siamese laughed merrily, and showed his white teeth.

      "I don't know," he said; "I'm afraid