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Middy and Ensign, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 56. Doctor Bolter's Bird |
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_ CHAPTER FIFTY SIX. DOCTOR BOLTER'S BIRD Meanwhile the doctor followed his Malay boy--as he was called, though he was really a man--through a narrow path right away from the camp and into the jungle. The doctor was ruffled exceedingly at his slip of grammar, and looked very much annoyed; but the thought of being able to secure a specimen of the much-prized Argus pheasant chased away the other trouble, and he walked on closely behind his guide. "How far have we to go, my lad?" he said. "Walk two hours," said the Malay, "then sit down and listen. No speak a word till _Coo-ow_ come. Then make gun speak and kill him!" "To be sure!" said the doctor, nodding his head; and then almost in silence he followed his guide, often feeling disposed to try and shoot one or other of the nocturnal birds that flitted silently by, or one of the great fruit bats that, longer in their spread of wings than rooks, flew in flocks on their way to devastate some orchard far away. Quite two hours had elapsed, during which the Malay, apparently quite at home, led his scientific companion right away through the gloom of the wilderness. At last he enjoined silence, saying that they were now approaching the haunts of the wondrous bird; and consequently the doctor crept on behind him without so much as crushing a twig. They had reached an opening in the forest, by the side of what was evidently a mountain of considerable height, and the doctor smiled as he recalled the fact that the Argus pheasant was reputed to haunt such places; when to his intense delight there soddenly rang out from the distance on the silent night air a peculiar cry that resembled the name given to the bird--_Coo-ow_. For the moment it seemed to the doctor as if some Australian savage was uttering his well-known _Coo-ay_, or as if this was the Malays' form of the cry. But he knew well enough what it was, and following his guide with the greatest caution, they crept on towards the place from which the sound had seemed to come. It was weird work in that wild solitude far on towards midnight, but the doctor was too keen a naturalist to think of anything but the specimen of which he was in search. He knew that the native hunters, out night after night, could not shoot more than one of these birds in a year, and it would be quite a triumph if he could add such a magnificent thing to his collection. _Coo-ow_--rang out the strange cry, and it seemed quite near. Then again _Coo-ow_, and this time it appeared to be a long way off. This was tantalising, but he concluded directly after, that the second cry might be that of another bird answering the first. They were now in amongst a number of low bushes, which gave them cover, while it made the surrounding country less black than when they were in the jungle-path. There they could only grope their way with outstretched hands; here they could have gone on at a respectable foot pace without danger of running against some impediment in the path. The doctor cocked both barrels of his gun, after opening the breech and making sure that the cartridges were in their place, and, in momentary expectation of setting a shot, he kept close behind the Malay. _Coo-ow_! came the cry again, this time a little to the left; and the Malay stretched out a hand behind him to grasp that of the doctor as he went cautiously on. _Coo-ow_! again, but a little farther off, and with his nerves throbbing with excitement, the doctor kept up the chase, now seeming close to the bird, then being left behind, but never once getting within shot. It was very provoking, but the guide was in earnest, and the doctor would have gone through ten times the trouble to achieve his end. And so they stole on through the thick brushwood, with the bird repeating its cry so near from time to time as to make them feel that they must get a shot directly; but still the hope was deferred. A lighter patch in front showed that the forest was a little more open, and the Malay loosed the doctor's hand for a moment to clamber over a block of stone--when there was a rushing noise, what seemed to be a heavy blow, a hoarse cry, and then silence, broken directly after by a low deep growling, just in front of where Doctor Bolter stood--petrified and unable to move. He was too much taken aback by the suddenness of the incident to comprehend for a time what had taken place; but directly after, with his hands wet with excitement, and his heart seeming to stand still, he realised that some great animal had been stalking them, as they had been stalking the Argus pheasant, and, waiting for its opportunity, had sprung upon and seized the Malay. There was the low snarling growl not two yards from where he stood, just the noise upon a larger scale that a cat would make when crouching down over the rat that it had seized; and the doctor felt that there could be only one creature in the jungle that would seize its prey in such a manner--the tiger. In spite of his bravery and the strength of nerve that had often made him face death without a tremor, Dr Bolter felt a cold shiver pass through him as he realised how near he was to a terrible end. The tiger might have seized him instead of the Malay--in fact, might spring upon him at any moment; and as he felt this, he brought the barrels of his gun to bear on the dark spot where the tiger lay crouching upon its victim, and with his fingers on both triggers stood ready to fire at the first movement of the beast. That first movement, he knew, might be to spring upon him and strike him down; and nature bade him flee at once for his life--bade him drop his gun, run to the first tree, and climb into its branches--escape as a timid beast, a monkey, might have done. Education, on the contrary, bade him stay--told him that it would be the act of a coward and a cur to run off and leave the poor fellow lying there to his fate, the horrible fate of being torn and half devoured by the tiger--bade him be a man, and do something, even at the risk of his own life, to save the Malay who had been stricken down in his service; and as these thoughts came to Doctor Bolter his eyes dilated in the darkness, and he strove to make out the positions in which tiger and man were lying. It was some time before he could make this out, and then it seemed to him that the tiger had struck the Malay down upon his face, and was lying upon him, with his teeth fixed in his shoulder. Just then the unfortunate man uttered a loud cry, when the tiger gave an angry snarl, and Doctor Bolter was able to assure himself of their relative positions. In fact there was the side of the tiger's head not six feet from him, and, dare he fire, it was almost impossible to miss. But the gun was loaded with small shot, and even at so close a range he might injure the unfortunate Malay, if he were not beyond the point when a fresh blow would do him harm. Doctor Bolter stood unable to move. He did not feel very much alarmed now, the danger was too near, but he could not for the moment act. At last, though, his nerves seemed to become more set, and setting his teeth he held his piece ready, and with one motion advanced his left foot and went down on his right knee, at the same time raising his gun to his shoulder. It was done in a moment--the tiger raising its head from the victim with a savage roar; when with the mouth of the piece not eighteen inches from the creature's head, Doctor Bolter drew the triggers, almost together. There was a brilliant flash in the darkness, which showed him the glistening teeth of the savage beast and its glaring eyes--a double report--and with a furious roar the monster sprang forward, crashing into some bushes, and then all was still. Quick as lightning the doctor threw open the breech of his piece, and inserted this time a couple of ball-cartridges, closed the gun, and stood ready for the monster's attack, knowing though that it must be sorely wounded, for he had aimed straight at its eye, and the small shot would, at that distance, have the effect of a bullet. A minute--two minutes, that seemed like hours, did the doctor stand there, expecting to hear some movement on the tiger's part, either for attack or retreat; but it did not stir, and he dared not fire again at random. Just then there was a low groan, and a faint movement at his feet. The doctor's piece swung round involuntarily, but directly after, he recalled that it must be the Malay, and with dry throat and lips he spoke to him. "Are you much hurt?" There was a few moments' pause, and then the Malay spoke. "My shoulder is gnawed; I can't use my arm." "Can you crawl behind me?" said the doctor, hoarsely. For reply the Malay rose to his feet, and staggering slightly, he made his way behind where the doctor stood. "I dare not move," said Doctor Bolter. "The beast may spring upon us again." "No," said the Malay, whose voice sounded stronger; "he is dead. Have you a light?" The doctor held his gun with one hand and pulled out his match-box with the other, when, in spite of his wounds, the Malay knelt down, drew a piece of dammar from the fold of his sarong, stuck it in a cleft stick, and then striking a match he fired the dry grass and lit the dammar, which made an excellent torch. With this advanced he took a couple of strides forward, and holding the light down, there lay the tiger on its side, the white under fur showing plainly, the doctor seeing that the creature's neck and legs were stretched out, and that it was indeed dead. "Thank heaven!" he muttered, fervently: and standing his gun against a tree he set to work piling up dead wood and dry canes to make a fire, when by its light and that of the dammar-torch the doctor proceeded to roughly dress the Malay's wounds. The tiger had seized him by the muscles of his left shoulder and clawed the upper part of his arm--terrible wounds enough, but not likely to prove fatal; and when the doctor had done all he could to make the poor fellow comfortable, the Malay lay down, gazing up at him as he trickled a little brandy from his flask between the poor fellow's lips. "You are good," he said at last. "You saved my life. Now I shall save yours." "Save mine?" said the doctor. "Well, I hope we shall have no more tigers to face." "No," said the man, "not from tigers, but from men. You did not eat blachang to-night?" "No," said the doctor. "Why?" "Sultan Hamet had _toobah_ put in it to-night: same as to make fish sleep." "What? I don't understand you!" cried the doctor excitedly. "Sultan Hamet means to have all the English krissed to-night while they sleep," said the Malay; "but you have saved my life: shall save yours." _ |
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