Jungle and Stream: or, The Adventures of Two Boys in Siam

"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, the man ceased paddling and made his way right astern, to squat down on the little platform beside his fellow, who cleverly propelled and steered the light craft with his one oar, leaving the look-out forward free for the gunners.

"Hullo! How are you, old gentleman?" cried Harry suddenly, as a grey-bearded, venerable-looking little face was suddenly thrust out through the leaves, so that its owner could look down at the strange visitors to his wild home.

There was a sharp chattering, the head of the monkey was drawn back, and then a rustling and waving of the boughs on the left began, going on a little in front.

"There's a whole troop of them travelling along," said Harry.

"Yes, and they'll scare all the birds," cried Phra. "Look, they've startled those lovely parroquets. What's to be done?"

"They'll soon go," replied Harry. "Row away."

The man astern thrust the boat along with his easy, Venice-like manipulation of the oar, and the light boat glided on right in the centre of the beautiful green lane with its watery floor; but the wave as it seemed to be likewise glided along, with a peculiar rustle in the foliage some twenty yards in front.

There was not a sound beside, save when, further ahead, some parroquet darted out with a shriek to cross to the other side of the stream, or a sharp flapping of wings told that it was a dove darting frantically through the twigs to escape from enemies with a great love for eggs, and no objection to savoury, plump morsels in the shape of half-fledged young, by way of change from a fruit diet.

"Let's stop," said Phra, on seeing that the undulation in the green wall on their left kept on at about the same rate.

"Stop, and let them go on?" said Harry. "Very well."

At a word the man ceased paddling, the boat glided on from the impetus already given, but less and less fast, till completely overcome by the stream it was meeting, it gradually came to a standstill, and was on the point of giving way and being borne back, when Harry burst into a hearty laugh, which had the result of making the grey, inquiring face of the monkey that had just peered out, pop back again.

"Row," said Phra, "and keep the boat stationary."

The rower dipped his oar gently, and the boat ceased to retrograde.

"What rum little customers they are!" said Harry, as he watched the place where the grey head had disappeared. "Just like a little old man watching us. Think they're gone now?"

"No; look."

Harry was looking, and saw at the same moment the little face cautiously thrust out again, but withdrawn as he made a threatening movement with his gun.

Then all was perfectly still for a minute.

"Perhaps they're gone now," said Harry.

"No; they are too inquisitive. I daresay there are fifty of them hidden in among the boughs."

"I think they're gone," said Harry at the end of another minute.

"Well, try. Go on," said Phra, and the oar was once more silently plied, gently disturbing the water, while at the same moment the wave in the trees began again, with its gentle rustling, showing that the monkey troop was once more travelling along just in front, scaring the birds away as they advanced.

The boat was stopped again, and the monkeys followed suit, the same curious old face peering cautiously out and watching.

The boat went on, so did the monkeys; and this was repeated over and over again, stopping and going on, the wave in the trees seeming to be so exactly influenced by the rowers' agitation of the water that it was as if one touch moved both water and leaf.

"Well, they are comical little beggars," cried Harry, who was once more in the highest of spirits. "I say, old man, just take your friends away; we're going shooting. Do you hear?"

The little head popped in out of sight, but as the boat did not move it popped out again, as if to find the reason why.

"We shan't get a bird, for they'll keep on like that for miles."

"It's tiresome," said Harry. "Here, I say, if you don't toddle I'll give you pepper."

The gun was raised threateningly as the boy spoke, and the head disappeared.

"He knows English," cried Harry, "and he's an uncommonly sensible old gentleman. Father told me that the country folks at home say rooks can smell powder. So can monkeys, seemingly."

"Country folks at home? What country folks?"

"Not yours; ours, in the old home, England. There, let's get on and begin shooting, or we shall get nothing."

"It doesn't matter," said Phra quietly; "it's very beautiful gliding along without killing things."

"Yes, but as we came to get specimens, let's get a few. I want to, so as to show father and the doctor that we haven't been moping. Row away."

The man smiled, and sent the boat gliding up the bright stream again, for the sun was so nearly overhead that scarcely any shadow was cast on their left.

But the moment the boat moved the wave ran along the trees again, and

Phra laughed aloud at his companion's face.

"Yes, you may laugh, but it's too bad. There, I'll keep my word, though, and as soon as my grey-headed gentleman shows his face I'm going to pepper him with small shot."

"No, you're not," said Phra, laughing. "You don't want him for a specimen."

"No, of course not. I don't want to shoot him. It would be just like killing a little old man. I'll only pepper him so as to scare him and his friends away. They'll spoil all our fun."

"Hi! Look out, Hal!"

There was a great flapping of wings and a loud rushing sound, as two large birds dashed out from where the troop of monkeys were passing, to fly across the river to the trees on the other side. But before they were two-thirds of the way across a couple of reports followed rapidly one after the other, and the birds fell in the water, which one of them beat with its wings for a few moments, and then became motionless, floating down towards the boat, which was dexterously driven on to meet them.

The birds were carefully lifted in, and with their plumage smoothed down, laid in a kind of locker, proving to be a finely developed pair of the great hornbills, no beauties as far as feathering was concerned, but singular as specimens, from the enormous development of their bills, and the great addition in form which has earned for them the sobriquet of rhinoceros.

"That's capital," said Harry. "Father was saying he wanted a good specimen or two, for ours were very poor."

The boys were loading again now, and the boat was once more advancing.

"The monkeys did not drive those away," said Phra.

"No; just drove them out right for us. Did as well as dogs, but – Hullo! where are they?"

The boys stared up at the great green wall on their left, but the trees were motionless in the hot sunshine, not a leaf stirring, the only movement visible being in one spot where a gigantic wreath of some flowering creeper hung down from far on high, spreading to the sunshine hundreds of trumpet-shaped white blossoms, and among these somewhere about a score of tiny sun-birds were hovering and darting, the brilliant, metallic, scale-like plumage of head and breast looking as if the diminutive creatures wore helmet and gorget of wonderfully tinted and burnished metals, others approaching in lustre the polish of brilliant gems.

It was a beautiful sight as the little creatures darted about, their rapidly beating wings almost invisible, but giving the birds the appearance of being surrounded by a soft haze. Here one would be apparently motionless beneath a hanging blossom, into which its long thin beak was thrust to probe the nectar like a gigantic bee. There a couple would be engaged in chase and flight, with flash after flash of metallic light reflected from the surface of their plumage as they darted about in full career, turning different portions of their plumage to the sun's rays. Again one would seem to be of the most sober colours, almost dingy, till it moved, and then as it caught the light at some other angle it flashed into a thing of beauty, dazzling in its tints of ruby, sapphire, and purple.

The boys had seen these tiny representatives of the humming birds in the New World scores of times, but always found satisfaction in watching them, and for the time being the monkeys were forgotten.

"What a chance!" said Harry, as the boat was sent in close to the burdened tree without disturbing the sun-birds in the least. "If father wants any more specimens of these, we couldn't come to a better place."

"But next time we come by, that bush will not be in flower, and there will be no sun-birds there."

"But they would be somewhere else," said Harry philosophically. "Look at that one with the red band across his breast. What a beauty! I say, next time we want any I vote that we don't shoot them with sand or water, but try a butterfly net."

"Couldn't reach," said Phra.

"Could if we had it at the end of a long bamboo."

"No," said Phra decisively; "you could not handle it quickly enough then. It would be too clumsy, and the bird would be as quick again. Couldn't do it, Hal."

"S'pose not," said the boy thoughtfully. "I say, look at that one with the rose-coloured head."

"Am looking at it. I don't think I ever saw such a beauty."

"Oh dear!" said Harry, with a deep sigh.

"What's the matter?"

"I was thinking what poor, stupid things our stuffed skins are. They don't look a bit like these tiny beauties all in motion, and seeming to be a fresh colour every time they move. They're so soft and round, and so quick. And see how they fly, too. I say, Phra, it seems a shame to shoot them."

"Horrible! Nothing could be more beautiful," said Phra, thoughtfully.

"Humming-birds are more beautiful," observed Harry.

"Ever seen any?"

"No, but my father says they are. He has seen them stuffed, and they are so beautiful then that they must be wonderfully lovely alive."

"Let's go on," said Phra thoughtfully. "Perhaps we shall get another shot or two, in spite of the monkeys."

The man set the boat gliding on again, and Harry sat with his gun cocked, waiting to see the little grey face peer out from among the leaves.

"I wouldn't pepper him, Harry," said Phra.

"Not going to," was the reply. "I've only put some powder to frighten him."

"That's right; but I don't see anything moving."

"They'll show themselves directly. Then we'll stop, and when the little old fellow shows his face I'll fire."

But the shots already fired had been sufficient, sending the troop away through the trees at the quickest pace they could command, and the two boys looked in vain.

Soon after, they had capital chances at different kinds of parrots, but did not lift their guns, these birds being abundant, and the little museum amply supplied with their skins; but upon coming abreast of an opening, the boat stopped, for it seemed a likely place for something novel.

"Hist!" whispered Phra, pointing. "That's a bird you've not shot yet."

"Yes, like the one you missed that day. Let me try for this one. – How tiresome! it's gone in beneath the bushes."

It was evidently a bird of secretive habit, for it had dived into a dense place; but just as Harry was about to give up, and tell the man to go on, the bird came into sight again, rose from the top of a low tree, and was in the act of flying across the opening, when Harry raised his gun quickly and fired.

"Down?" he said. "I couldn't see for the smoke."

"No," said Phra; "it flew right away yonder."

"Oh, it couldn't; I took such a careful aim. Did you see it?" he asked the men.

They both replied in the affirmative, and Harry looked puzzled.

"It seems queer," he said, beginning to reload his gun. "I don't know how I could have missed."

"I know," cried Phra. "You loaded to frighten the monkey."

"And did not put any shot in!" cried Harry. "Oh, how stupid!"

At that moment Phra raised his gun and fired at a similar bird, as it crossed the river, and dropped just at the edge of the opening.

A turn or two of the oar sent the boat alongside, the bird was retrieved, and Harry was in ecstasies with its beautiful shades of turquoise blue, pale drab, and grey.

"It's the kind father was saying he was so eager to get a specimen of," cried Harry. "Do you think any more will come if we wait?"

"I don't think so," was the reply; "but let's try."

They waited for half an hour, but not another bird appeared, and they went on, having the luck to bring down one of the lovely ground thrushes at the next opening.

After this Phra shot one of the scarlet-breasted trogons, a beautiful insect-eating bird, nearly allied to our goatsuckers and cuckoos, with, in addition to its rosy, scarlet breast, a delicate pencilling of grey and black, while the greater part of its back was of a fine metallic green.

Flycatchers with inordinately long tails were the next trophies, and Harry was beginning to think that enough had been secured for Sree to skin and preserve, when Phra pressed his companion's arm, and pointed to what looked like a streak of vivid blue being drawn in the air just above the water.

It was too far off to fire, so the boys strained their eyesight to note where the beautiful object settled, but without result, so the boat was urged gently forward, and, finger on trigger, the boys watched the spot where they had last seen the bird.

"It has a splendid tail, Hal," said Phra, in a whisper. "You had better fire."

"No, you; it's a beauty."

"Then you fire; you are so much surer than I am. I'll hold my shot in case you don't bring it down."

They were in momentary expectation of seeing the bird rise to continue its flight up the watery way; but there was no sign of it, and the lads were getting in despair, when there was a flash from a spot least expected. Phra, in his excitement at seeing it going away without Harry getting a good view of it, fired, though it seemed to be too late. However, the bird fell into the river, and another rose at the report, skimmed along just above the surface, and was getting almost beyond range, when Harry drew trigger, and the bird dropped.

"I shan't shoot any more to-day," said Harry excitedly, as the two birds were retrieved and laid for their plumage to dry, being two perfect specimens of the racket-tailed kingfisher, whose azure adornments render it one of the most lovely birds of that part of the world. "I say, what beauties! We have done well."

"We've shot those bird often," said Phra, as he raised one of the kingfishers by the beak, and drew it softly through his hand, removing part of the water which remained, and straightening the produced feathers of the tail, each with its narrow almost naked shaft ending in a lovely blue ellipse of web. This done, he laid the damp bird in the sunshine to dry, adding, "But I don't think we ever shot better specimens, or hurt the plumage so little."

A low, hissing noise drew the boys' attention to the man who was not rowing, and, as he caught their eyes, he pointed to something in one of the overhanging trees.

"What is it?" said Harry; "I can't see;" and he cocked his piece, quite forgetting his words of a short time before.

"Only nests," said Phra; "we don't want them."

In effect there was a cluster of about a dozen pensile nests, formed like a chemist's retort by the clever bird-weavers, and hanging neck downward from the ends of thin branches, where they were perfectly safe from the intrusion of active, long-armed monkeys.

There was, in fact, something attractive at every few yards, for when birds were not in sight magnificent butterflies or day-flying moths came flitting out of the openings into the forest, one of which was the atlas, as much as ten inches across the wings.

And now the tension of seeking for choice specimens being over, the boys sat back carelessly, watching the various objects which came into view. Now it would be fish, temptingly suggestive of the sport that might be had up this lovely stream, did they feel disposed to bring tackle. A little farther on the boat was stopped for a cluster of beautiful orchids to be secured, but they were rejected on account of their being inhabited by a colony of virulent ants.

"I say," said Harry suddenly, "this would be just the place for fireflies. Let's tell Dr. Cameron, and we'll have a trip up some night. We might shoot some of the queer night birds."

"Yes," said Phra, "and something else too. There are tigers up here, they say."

"So much the better. We should get a chance to shoot one then by accident. I say, where should we come to if we kept right on as far as the river ran?"

"To the place it started from."

"Well, I know that; but where is it?"

"Oh, it's all our country. There are mountains there, and plenty of elephants, Sree says."

"Let's have an expedition right up then, and bring a tent and plenty of provisions. We ought to be able to get all kinds of new specimens."

"I'm willing," said Phra; "but hadn't we better turn back now?"

"Think they will be coming back from the tiger hunt?"

"Most likely. I say, Hal, it hasn't been a bad time, has it?"

"No," said Harry with a sigh. "Tell him to go back."

At the order the man who had been resting returned to the fore part of the boat, and seized his oar, making that the stern now, while his companion laid in his oar, and squatted down for his rest.

"Hullo! look!" cried Harry; "there's another of those queer-looking old chaps," and he nodded in the direction of the other side of the river, where it was evident that a fresh troop of the quaint little animals were travelling along in the trees. They were going up the river, but as soon as they found that the boat was retiring they at once altered their direction, and the foliage waved and trembled as they kept alongside, travelling through the dense jungle about five-and-twenty feet above the ground, and very rarely giving the occupants of the boat a chance of seeing their lithe, active forms.

How far these eager, inquisitive little fellows would have followed them, if left undisturbed, it is impossible to say; but after watching their movements and the eager, excited face of their leader for some time, Harry grew tired of their company.

"Send a shot over them, Phra," he cried.

The boy raised his gun, pistol fashion, in the air, and fired it, while Harry watched the wall of verdure.

Just as the gun was fired the little old face of the leader was being reached out from the extremities of the boughs, the monkey holding on in what proved to be a very precarious position, for the suddenness of the report frightened it out of its small wits, and made it give such a bound that the next moment, collapsed into what looked like a ball fringed with white, it came rushing through the leaves, splash into the water, making the occupants of the boat roar with laughter.

"What is fun to you is death to us," said the frogs to the boys, in the fable, and this was nearly the case with the monkey.

For as soon as the rower saw the beginning of the mishap he gave a tremendous sweep with his oar, changing the direction of the boat and giving it greater speed at the same time, so that it might glide in close to where the trees dipped, and pick up the monkey before it was drowned or succeeded in dragging itself up.

The movement was cleverly conceived and carried out, but it had a different culmination from that which was expected.

Full of excitement now, the boys were watching for the monkey to rise from its deep plunge, and so well had the boatman judged his distance that the swiftly moving prow was within a yard of the little unfortunate when it rose to the surface.

At the same moment the gaping, teeth-armed jaws of a crocodile shot out of the water, and the next would have closed upon the delicate mouthful, had not the prow of the sampan struck the reptile full on the shoulder with a tremendous shock which made the boat quiver, while from the shape of the prow and the force with which it was going, the boat rose and scraped right over the reptile's back, gliding down on the other side amidst a tremendous turmoil in the water.