Chapter 7. How Dick Related The Visit

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_ CHAPTER SEVEN. HOW DICK RELATED THE VISIT

With a cry of horror Bob Roberts leaped forward, and caught the Malay's wrist in time to avert the blow, the Kling starting forward the next instant, and helping to hold the infuriate Asiatic; while Tom Long struggled up and leaped ashore, where a knot of soldiers and sailors were gathering.

"Don't say anything, Tom," cried Bob. "Here you--tell him he did not mean to offend him," he continued to the Kling, who repeated the words; and the Malay, who had been ready to turn on the midshipman, seemed to calm down and sheathed his kris; while the Kling spoke to him again with the result that the offended man sat himself down in the boat, gazing vindictively at the young ensign ashore.

"Here, no more durian to-day, thank you," said Bob, handing the Kling a dollar. "And look here, you sir; don't let that fellow get whipping out his kris on any of our men, or he'll be hung to the yard-arm as sure as he's alive."

"He much angry, sahib," said the Kling, whose swarthy visage had turned of a dirty clay colour. "Soldier sahib hurt him much."

"Yes, but if we hadn't stopped him he'd have hurt my friend much more."

As he spoke Bob nodded shortly to the Kling, and leaped ashore. "Sahib not take his flowers," said the latter, and dipping them in the river, and giving them a shake, he left the boat and handed the beautiful blossoms to the young sailor, who directly after joined Tom Long, who looked, in spite of his sunburnt visage, rather "white about the gills," to use Bob's expression.

"That fellow ought to be shot. I shall report this case," cried the ensign angrily.

"I don't think I should," said Bob quietly. "You see you did upset the poor fellow, and they are an awfully touchy lot."

"It was all your fault for playing me that confounded trick," cried Tom Long, passionately.

"Trick? I played no trick," said Bob, indignant to a degree at the accusation.

"You did," cried Tom Long, "humbugging me into eating that filthy fruit."

"Why, it was delicious," cried Bob. "I should have gone on and finished mine if you hadn't made that upset."

"I don't care; it was a nasty practical joke," cried Tom Long, "and--I beg your pardon, Roberts," he said, suddenly changing his tone, and holding out his hand. "I believe you saved my life."

"Oh, nonsense!" said Bob. "He only meant to prick you with his kris."

"Heaven defend me from all such pricks!" said Tom Long, devoutly, as he held the middy's hand in his. "I say, Bob Roberts, I wish you and I could agree better."

"So do I," said Bob, giving the hand he held a hearty shake; "But we never shall. I always feel as if I wanted to quarrel with you, as soon as we meet."

"So do I," said Tom Long. "You are such an aggravating little beggar."

"It is my nature to," said Bob, laughing. "But you won't say anything about this affair, shall you? It will be a lesson how to deal with the natives."

"If you think I had better not, I won't," said Tom Long, thoughtfully. Then, with a shudder, "I say, I felt just as if I was going to have that horrid kris in me. I shall never forget this, Bob Roberts."

"Oh, stuff and nonsense! Here, I say, have one of these bunches of flowers, old fellow."

"No, no; I don't want them," said the ensign, colouring up.

"Yes, yes; take one. Quick, here are the ladies. I'm going to give my lotuses to Miss Sinclair," he said quietly. And as Tom Long's fingers closed upon the arums, the ladies, who were walking with the resident came close up.

"Ah, Mr Long," said the latter, "what a lovely bunch of arums!"

"Yes sir," said Tom, looking very red in the face; "they're for the mess table."

"Your lotuses are lovely, Mr Midshipman Roberts," said Miss Linton, smilingly greeting the frank-faced lad.

"Aren't they, Miss Linton?" said Bob. "I'm just going to send them aboard to the first luff; he's rather poorly."

They parted; and it was quite true, for after looking rather shame-facedly the one at the other, the ensign bore off his arums to the mess-room, and the lotuses were sent on board the "Startler" by the very next boat.

There was nothing more said respecting the adventure with the Malay boatman; but the two youths, who were a good deal puzzled in their own minds, as to whether they were friends or enemies, exchanged glances a day or two later, when stringent orders were issued respecting the behaviour of the Englishmen to the natives. The men of both services were warned to be very careful, especially as it was the custom for the Malays to carry the deadly kris. The character of the people too was enlarged upon, their pride and self-esteem; and strict orders were given, to be followed by severe punishment if disobeyed, that the people and their belongings were to be treated with the greatest respect.

Every one was as busy as could be, for there was an immense amount of labour necessary to get the place into a state satisfactory to the various officers. Great preparations were being made too for the first meeting with Sultan Hamet, though it was a matter of doubt whether he would come to the residency in state, or expect the English to call upon him in his palm-thatched palace.

"He's a rum sort of a chap," Dick the sailor said, freely giving his opinion. "Sultan, indeed! What call have they to say he's a sultan? Why, Sergeant Lund, Billy Mustard, and that sick chap Sim, who went ashore with despatches, come back last night, and they say it's no more a palace as he lives in than a pig-sty. It's for all the world like a big bamboo barn, thatched with leaves."

"What's that?" said Bob Roberts, coming up, with the young ensign, to where two or three of the sailors were, under the trees, talking to a group of soldiers.

"I was a telling of 'em about what Sergeant Lund told me, sir," said Dick, pulling his forelock, "that this here sultan as we've come here to protect lives in a place as is just like a big bamboo barn standing on stilts. And Lor' ha' mercy, they say it was a sight: with leaves, and cabbage stumps, and potato parings chucked about under the place!"

"Now come, Dick," cried the middy; "no yarns, please."

"Well sir, of course I don't mean real English cabbage stumps and potato parings, same as we has at home, but what answers for 'em here, and coky-nut huxes and shells, and banana rinds, and a nasty bad smelling kind o' fruit as they calls doorings."

Bob gave the ensign a comical look.

"Why Billy Mustard says--and this here's a fack--as the smell o' them doorings."

"Durians, Dick."

"All right, sir," said the old sailor; "that don't make 'em smell a bit better--the smell o' them things knocked him slap off his feet."

The men laughed, and old Dick went on--

"Everything about the place was as ontidy as a bilge hole; and when our ambassadors--"

"Our what?" said Bob.

"Well, them as carried the despatches, sir--got close up, they was told to wait because the sultan was asleep. When seeing as a reg'lar party of the Malays, every man with his bit of a toasting fork by his side, come round to stare at 'em, Sergeant Lund he says to himself, 'Lor'! what a pity it is as I haven't got Private Tomkins, or Private Binns, or two or three more nice smart, handsome chaps o' that kind with me, instead of such a scuffy couple o' fellows as Sim and Mustard.'"

Here, of course, there was a roar of laughter, for Privates Tomkins and Binns were amongst the listeners.

"Come away," said Tom Long, frowning. "I don't like mixing with our men."

"No, no: stop," cried Bob. "They won't think any the less of us; we're off duty now."

Tom Long wanted to hear what was said, so he remained.

"And one of our nice hansum young orficers," continued Dick, in the most solemn way, "and a middy and some smart Jacks."

"And Dick Dunnage," said one of the soldiers.

"Well, he did mention me, but I was too modest to say so."

Here there was another laugh.

"'How so be,'" continued Dick, "he sez; 'must make the best o' what material we got,' so he pulls his men together, squares their yards, and coils down all their ropes tidy, tightens the breechings o' their guns, and lets the poor benighted savages of niggers have their fill o' staring at real British sodgers. Then they turned civil, and brought 'em out drinks, and fruit, and pipes; and they was very comfortable, till some one come out and said as the sultan was awake, and wanted his cocks, so the chap as went as interpreter told them; and then there was a bustle, and some three or four chaps went and fetched some fighting-cocks, and took 'em inside the barn--I mean the palace; and our fellows was kept waiting till the sergeant hears a reg'lar cock-a-doodle-doo, just for all the world as if he was at home, and he know'd by that as one of the birds had won. Just about a minute after some one come and beckoned him, and he goes up the steps into the palace, as had bamboo floors, and carpets lying about; and there was the sultan up at one end, sitting on carpet, and all his wives and people about him."

"How many wives had he got, Dick?" said the midshipman.

"About a dozen, sir. But I'll just tell you how many he'd have had if my missus had been one on 'em."

"How many, Dick?"

"Just one, sir; she'd clear out all the others in a brace o' shakes. She wouldn't stand none o' that nonsense. Why, bless yer 'art, there was one had got a golden pestle and mortar--"

"Gently, Dick! gently!" said the midshipman.

"It's a fack, sir, and as sure as I stand here; and she was a bruising up betel-nuts for him to chew, and another was mixing up lime, and another spreading leaves, whilst--there, I dursn't hardly tell you this here, because you won't believe it."

"Let it off gently, Dick," said the middy, "and we'll try and bear it."

"Well, sir, hang me if one of his wives--the oldest and ugliest of 'em-- wasn't sitting there holden a golden spittoon ready for him to use whenever he wanted."

There was another roar of laughter, and Dick exclaimed,--

"There, you ask Sergeant Lund if every word a'most I've said ain't quite true,"--which, with the exception of Dick's embellishment about the handsome sailors and soldiers, proved to be the case. _

Read next: Chapter 8. Tom Long's Wound

Read previous: Chapter 6. How Tom Long Tried The Durian

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