Jungle and Stream: or, The Adventures of Two Boys in Siam. Fenn George Manville
right up to the highest window in the big tower of the Wat over yonder, and take the telescope up with us."
"I tell you I don't want to. There's nothing to see there that we haven't seen scores of times."
"Yes, there is."
"No, there isn't."
"Yes, there is, I tell you."
"Well, what is there?"
"We could watch and follow them with the glass nearly all the way to the new sugar plantation, and perhaps see the tiger hunt."
Harry started excitedly, and caught his friend by the arm.
"So we could," he said, with his face lighting up. "I needn't go back for our glass; you could get one from your father; he'd let you have that if he wouldn't let you have the elephants."
"Yes. Shall I fetch it?"
"No," cried Harry sharply; "I won't take any more notice of the hunting; we'll do something else."
"But you'd like to see it," said Phra.
"Of course I should, but I won't. There."
"But it's like – what do you call it when you're doing something to hurt yourself?"
"Hurting myself," said Harry bluntly.
"No, no, no. Ah, I've got it. Biting your own nose off in revenge of your face."
"All right, that's what I'm going to do – bite it off. I won't watch them going, and I won't take any more notice of the miserable, disappointing business."
"Oh, Hal, what a temper you're in!"
"I know that, but I'm fighting it all the time, and I mean to win."
"But you'll be obliged to be here when they come back."
"No, I shan't; I won't hear them."
"You can't help it; they'll come marching back, banging the gongs and tomtomming and shouting, with the tiger slung on the back of one elephant, and the doctor and your father in the same howdah. Oh, you'll be obliged to come and meet them."
"Yes, I suppose so," said Harry, drawing a deep breath. "If I don't, they'll think me sulky."
"So you are," said Phra, laughing.
"I'm not; no, not a bit, only in a temper."
"I wish the cricket and football things had come."
"I don't believe they ever will come," said Harry. "See what time it is."
"They will come," said Phra gravely.
"How do you know?"
"Because my father said that we should have them. There, you're better now."
"No, I'm not; I'm ever so much worse," said Harry, through his set teeth.
"Well, let's go and kill something; you'll be better then."
"Don't believe I should," replied Harry. "What should we go and kill?"
"I don't know. Let's get the guns and make two of the men row us up the narrow stream, right up yonder through the jungle where the best birds are. Your father would like it if we got some good specimens ready for Sree to skin."
"Very well," said Harry resignedly; "I shan't mind so long as you don't want me to go up the big temple tower to watch them. I say, Phra, I'm beginning to feel a bit better now."
Phra laughed, and the two boys went into the palace, where the former gave an order to one of the servants about a boat, and then led the way to his own room, a charming little library with a couple of stands on one side bearing guns and weapons of various kinds, beside fishing-rods and a naturalist's collecting gear.
"Which gun will you have?" asked Phra.
"Either; I don't care," was the reply; and by the time they were prepared one of the attendants announced that the boat was ready.
They walked down to the great stone landing-place at the river, stepped into the boat, and seated themselves under the little open-sided roof, while their two rowers pushed off, and keeping close in shore, where the eddy was in their favour, sent the boat rapidly on through the muddy water.
For some distance the forest lay back away from the river, while the bank on their right was pretty well hidden by a continuous mass of house-boats, so close together as almost to touch; but at last these were left behind, and the trees on their left began to encroach upon the fields and fruit gardens, where melons, pines and bananas grew in wonderful profusion, and the air was full of life such as would have delighted an entomologist.
By degrees cultivation ceased and the wild jungle came close down to the stream, and in places even overhung and dipped the tips of branches in the water. Now and then, a small crocodile scuffled off the muddy bank and plunged into the river. Fish began to be more plentiful, little shoals showing on the surface, and in two or three places a heavy fellow springing out in pursuit of its prey and falling back with a splash.
Birds, too, began to be seen: tiny parrots whistled and chattered in the trees; a big hawk hovered overhead; and several times over great long-legged waders were disturbed.
But no attempt at firing was made, the two lads sitting quiet and thoughtful beneath their sheltering roof, musing over the expedition, and wondering whether it was being successful.
In imagination Harry seemed to see it all: the men spread out to beat some fairly open space and drive the tiger towards where the two elephants would be stationed some fifty yards apart, with their occupants, rifle in hand, watching for the slightest movement in a clump of bushes or tuft of reeds.
"Oh, what would I not give to be there!" said Harry to himself at last. "I wish I were not such a boy!"
The colour came a little, though, into his cheeks – or it might have been caused by the heat of the sun, at any rate it was there – as he thought of what the doctor had said, and of his own words to his father.
And as these thoughts came, he felt something like shame at his feeling of dissatisfaction with what he had, and his striving after that which he had not.
"I won't be such a dissatisfied donkey," he muttered, and his face looked brighter as he turned sharply to speak to Phra.
His change affected his companion, who brightened up too.
"We're getting close to the mouth of the little river," he said.
"I'm glad of it," said Harry cheerfully. "I say, they have been quick; it's hot work for them."
"Yes," said Phra, "but they'll have a good rest soon while we're going slowly, and there will be nothing to do but steer, going back."
"I say, suppose they get back first with the tiger."
"I hope they will not," cried Phra; "but it isn't likely. They've a long way to go, and the beating will take a long time. We shall be back first. Ugh, you brute!" he whispered, reaching for his gun, cocking both barrels softly, and taking aim at a large crocodile.
Snip! snap! and then a splash, as the reptile disappeared.
"I don't think you have killed it," said Harry seriously, but with his eyes dancing with mischief.
"Ah, you're better," cried Phra pettishly. "You don't want to runamok now. How could I be so stupid! I never thought about not being loaded."
"Better think about it now," said Harry, beginning the operation in the tedious, old-fashioned way that ruled so long before the cartridge was invented for a sportsman's use. "But we were only to shoot birds, I thought."
"Yes, birds, and only beautiful specimens," replied Phra. "I couldn't help being tempted to fire at the brute, though. I shall always be shooting at them now."
"Here we are," said Harry, and at a word from Phra the light sampan was guided into a sluggish side stream only some twenty yards or so wide, while on either side the trees rose like a wall of verdure, the water lapping the leaves, which dipped and played up and down with the motion of the stream.
"You take that side and I'll take this," said Phra; and then giving the order to the rower in front,