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Trapped by Malays: A Tale of Bayonet and Kris, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 38. After Last Post |
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_ CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT. AFTER LAST POST Meanwhile Archie, faint with heat and weariness, had made his way slowly to Peter, who was at his old post, doing double and quadruple duty as the sentry who commanded the approach to the landing-place; and as Archie entered the room he looked up eagerly. "I was thinking about you, Mister Archie, sir." "And I was thinking about you, Pete." "Thank you, sir. Have a drink, sir," he continued eagerly, pointing to a brass lotah and a cocoa-nut shell. "It's nice and fresh, sir. Mother Smithers only brought it up about two hours ago, because she said this was the hottest place in the station; and it's splendid stuff, sir. It's kept me awake many's the time, when I've felt as I must snooze." Archie took the cup mechanically, filled it, and handed it to his man. "After you, sir, please." Archie raised the cup and drank. "Don't it put you in mind, sir, of the stone jar and the helephant-shed?" "Yes, Pete. Ah, it's rather warm, but very refreshing;" and he refilled the cup and held it to the man. "No news, I suppose, sir?" "Yes, Pete. More bad, of course; three more men down." "Three, sir! Well, I suppose we have all got to get a taste of them spears, just have our dose, and--good luck to him!--the Doctor will set us up again." Archie was silent for a few moments. "One of the men is poor Joe Smithers," he said at last. "Joe Smithers!" cried Peter, letting his rifle fall into the hollow of his arm. "Joe Smithers!" "I didn't know you cared for him so much, Pete," said Archie, as he saw the big tears gathering in the lad's eyes. "Oh, I liked him as a comrade, sir. He's a good chap, and fought as well as the best of them. But it makes me feel ready to snivel, sir, about old Mother Clean-shirts. Why, it will about break her heart. Why, she was here a couple of hours ago to bring me that drinking-water, and looked as chirpy as ever.--Poor old girl!" continued Peter, as Archie told him what had passed. "It's a bad, bad job, sir; but we soldiers has to chance it, for where there's a lot of bad there's always a lot of good. And look at that now! Who's Joe Smithers as he should have such a stroke of luck and have a nurse like that?" There was silence for a few minutes, and the two lads sat gazing out of the window. "Extra quiet this afternoon, ain't they, sir?" said Peter. "Think it means that they are making up some fresh dodge to wake us up?" "I don't know, Pete," said Archie sadly. "You ought to be able to bring that fellow down," he added, pointing. "Yes, I could cripple him, easy, sir, though it is rather a long shot." "Then why don't you fire?" "Only got two cartridges left, sir," replied the lad, looking at the speaker wistfully. "Cartridges!" said Archie, starting. "That's what I came to talk to you about." "Go it, then, sir, please, for there's nothing I should like better to hear.--Hooray!" ejaculated Peter softly, as Archie related what had occurred. "Talk about corn in Egypt, sir! Well, we must have them." "The Major won't let us go, Pete." "No, sir, I suppose not. Says it's too risky." The lad was silent for a few minutes, and then went on: "Yes, 'tis a bit risky, sir, for the niggers are as thick as thieves all down that way; but you and me always did like a lark with a bit of spice in it--when we was boys; and that ain't much more than a month or two ago, sir. I should just like to get them cartridges; shouldn't you?" "Yes, Pete, dearly; and it might be the saving of a good many lives." "To be sure it would, sir." "But it would be like acting in defiance of orders if we were to attempt such a thing." "Well, if you look at it like that, sir, I suppose it would. And the Major would never forgive us--if we didn't get them." "No," said Archie, "But if we _did_." "Yes, Pete, if we did he'd shut his eyes to our breach of orders." "Well, sir, we always did like a bit of spice, as I said just now--just a bit of risk over a lark; and this is only like a serious lark to do a lot of good as well as giving us a bit of fun. I'm game, sir, if you are." Archie was silent for a few moments, and then he said slowly: "It's for the benefit of all, Pete. With a couple of hundred cartridges, even if half of them are small shot--" "We could kick up such a row, sir, as would make the niggers think we had no end of supplies. Let's get them, sir." "How, Pete?" "Oh, that means you are on, sir. How? Well, that wants a considering-cap and a little bit of thinkum-thinkum. How? Don't quite see it yet, sir; but if you sets your mind on a thing, and comes to me-- it always did end in our seeing how to do it, and that's how it's going to be now." Peter began to whistle softly and then sing in a whisper about--
"Yes--how?" cried Archie. "A boat, sir." "Bother! I have been thinking of boats and sampans and nagas and gunboats, and all the rest of them. How are we to do it with a boat?" "Don't be waxy with me, Mister Archie, sir. You are in such a hurry with a chap. I said boat." "I know you did," said Archie gruffly. "And then you chopped me off short, sir, when I was going to say--and chance it." "That's what you are always saying." "That's true, sir; but you can't say but what it sometimes turns up trumps." "Well, go on. What boat?" "Any boat, sir. Anybody's boat. Why not smuggle the one we had when we went fishing?" "We can't do that again. There's a fresh rumour that Rajah Hamet is bringing his men up there; and we may have an attack from the lower river at any time." "Oh, that settles it, then," said Peter. "We must have them cartridges before those fresh reinforcements come. All right, then, sir. We must creep round right away outside the camp, and get to the water-side half a mile beyond the spot where I was on duty and hailed you that night. There's sure to be boats up there." "Very likely. What then? But if there are they will be anchored right out in the river. How are we to get one?" "Swim," said Peter laconically. "And the crocs?" "Chance it," said Peter. "Ugh!" ejaculated Archie. "'Tain't tempting, sir, but I'm game. Look here, Mister Archie," continued the lad; "they say British soldiers are odd fish--and so they are--but bad as we want cartridges, ain't four hundred of them, all new, and waiting to be used, at a time when every lad's pouch is empty, a big enough bait to make any British soldier bite? Come on, sir; chance it!" "I will, Pete; and if one of those hideous reptiles takes me down--well, I shall have died for my country." "I won't, sir," said Peter fiercely, "but I'll die for him. I mean, I will disagree with him this 'ere way. Of course I should leave my rifle at home, but I should go that journey with a naked bayonet in my belt, and it will go rather hard before he settles me if I don't find time to put it into his fatigue-jacket here and there." "Yes, Pete; and, as you say, we will chance it. But when we have got the boat, what then?" "Lie quietly in the bottom, sir, and let it float down till we are off the foot of the Doctor's garden, and then one of us will hold it ready and drop down the anchor-stone or the grapnel, and there we are." "But suppose some of the Malays are already in the house." "No, we won't, sir. We are not going to suppose anything of the kind. We are going to chance it, sir." "That's right, Pete. When shall we start?" "What do you say, sir?" "I say to-night, directly after Last Post." "Last Post it is, sir." Peter had not lost the memory of differences of position, but he was thinking of two men binding themselves upon a perilous compact that might mean death to both, as he slowly stole forward a very dirty hand. The young officer to whom it was extended on his part did not see in his companion a private, but the brave, tried comrade, as he caught Peter's powder-grimed hand in a warm grasp. And Archie's hand was just as grubby. _ |
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