Chapter XVII: The Jungle Fire

Mr. Gilchrist supposed that they might be drawing near the English settlement, which he found, upon conversation with the chief Burman, to be a police-station; when on the farther side of a small tributary to the river, which it would be necessary to ford, a bright glare of light flashed upon them suddenly as they rounded a spur of rock.

"What is that?" asked he anxiously.

"Paya, it is the jungle on fire," said the man. "It is the first jungle fire I have heard of this year, but it happens frequently in the heat every season."

"Good God!" exclaimed the gentleman, "what a sight! Are we safe here?"

"From the fire? yes, certainly," said the Burman. "See, my royal lord, there is a strip of clear ground on the farther bank of the stream, and the water would quench anything that is likely to reach it. But form up closely, for wild beasts may burst through here, being accustomed to drink at this place, and cross the ford where it is shallow."

"Load the guns," cried Mr. Gilchrist "Close round the gharrie; take out the bullocks, and fasten them to the wheels,--we can surround them better so. Set your backs to the cart, and keep your weapons ready."

He would have had Osborn remain in the gharrie, beneath shelter, with Wills, but the old man was out at the first hint of danger. He laid his friend's head upon a cushion, renewed the wet rags that lay upon his fevered brow, gave him some cool drink, and was ready to help his master in five minutes.

He was needed. Gilchrist looked round, his numbers were short. Had the uncertain light deceived him? Surely there should have been enough men to surround the gharrie and bullocks; also the two tats, or ponies, and the larger horse, that were now brought into such close space, and fastened to the cart. He counted heads. Three Burmans were missing.

A very short search discovered them,--they were crouched upon the ground, beneath the gharrie, hiding, in an agony of fear.

"Come out, you cowardly rascals!" thundered he. "Come out, or I will shoot you all as you lie there! Come out this instant!"

The men crept out, shaking with fright, and imploring the royal lord's self to pardon them. They did not know whether to be most afraid of him, or the fire, or the possible wild beasts. They were not likely to be of much use whichever danger arose first.

Mr. Gilchrist posted them between the coolies, Osborn, and himself, with orders that the first one who abandoned his post should be shot without mercy.

Meantime, animals were flying by, now by one or two at a time, then in herds. Sambhurs, with terrified eyes, bounded along at headlong speed; peacocks flew past, screaming; water-fowl rose in air. Monkeys jabbered and leapt by, wild cats scurried across. Then a great roar was heard, and a pair of leopards sprang out of their covers, and stood glaring at the little band, every hair upon their beautiful spotted skins seeming to bristle with wrath.

Out rang Mr. Gilchrist's rifle; out rang Osborn's,--the female fell; the male, hardly braver than the Burmans, though more ferocious, turned tail and fled. The leopard was not dead, her leg was broken by one shot, her side entered by the other; but the contents of the second barrels despatched her.

Hardly had she been dead ten minutes, when, with a heavy flapping of dark wings, many vultures were seen sweeping past and settling upon the nearest trees. The branches were weighed down with the black mass of these ill-omened birds.

Meantime the fire wound along among the jungle-grass in brilliantly sinuous lines; and ever as it ran hither and thither, a screaming, fluttering, shrieking rush of animal life followed it, though not always taking the direction of our friends.

After the first, though clouds of birds and bats flew over their heads, deer, and larger beasts, hurrying to places of safety, turned aside upon perceiving them, and scampered farther down the stream. Rats and small fry ran in the shallow water along its banks; and monkeys swung themselves, hand over hand, among the trees.

By degrees the fire burnt itself out upon their road, and swept farther away; but it was broad daylight before the travellers dared to relax their vigilance, or breathe freely once more. Mr. Gilchrist served out a modicum of brandy to each man, and some biscuits. The refreshment was much needed, and gave them heart.

In the cool early morning, Wills was better; his temperature went down, his mind appeared clearer, and his speech less confused. Then, too, rising above the blackened jungle, perched high upon a hillside, appeared the police-station; and a group of horsemen might be seen, in fresh linen garments, riding down in their direction. A lady was one of the party as well; she cantered along in her easy grey habit, with long curls blowing back beneath a shady black hat, a pleasant sight to all. She proved to be a girl of nineteen, just come out from home, the bride of the young police officer; a bonnie, slender thing, with smiling lips, frank blue eyes, English roses still upon her cheeks, Burmese roses fastened into the bosom of her jacket.

So short a time had elapsed since her marriage, that she still gave a little involuntary start of remembrance when anyone called her Mrs. Brudenel, the name which she had been accustomed to hear only as that of her husband's mother, while at his "wifey," a flush of colour would suddenly mantle upon her fair young face.

Mr. Gilchrist had his own private hopes, which caused him to watch these little signs with secret interest, though he betrayed no outward symptom of his pleasure in them, and maintained a formal show of deep respect towards her.

She was kindness itself to poor Wills, and treated him with a skill which showed her familiarity with illness. No sooner did she receive him into her house, than she directed her ayah to prepare her one spare room for him,--a cool pleasant apartment; she bathed his brow with a fragrant lotion, applied mustard poultices to the back of his head behind his ears; she supplied all other things desirable, and devised means for throwing out a profuse perspiration upon his body.

Wills gradually recovered his full senses under this treatment, but was very weak.

The doctor soon arrived, and so played his skilful part, that, upon bringing to him a basin of such soup as he had seldom enjoyed, Wills looked up anxiously in Mrs. Brudenel's face.

"The boy?" he asked. "Is he safe?"

"We hope so," replied she gently.

"Only _hope_, miss?"

"Only hope at present, but my husband has taken his men to bring him in. We shall soon have good news for you, please God."

"Ay, please God," said the old man. "The cheild has come to be like the apple of my eye,--the best fruit from a fine old stock, lady. Please God, please God."

"Would you like me to pray with you for his safety?" asked the lady.

"Ay, ef 'ee will," replied he.

Mrs. Brudenel knelt by the old seaman's bed, took his horny hand in her soft white one, and poured out a supplication to the God and Father of them both, that He would keep this boy safely beneath the shadow of His everlasting wings, and restore him to his friends without injury.

As she rose from her knees, the old man's lips moved again. "Amen, amen," he muttered. "Please God, please God."

He fell into a sleep, still murmuring these words, and holding the lady's hand.

She did not try to release it, but sat patiently by the bedside until his fingers relaxed of their own accord, as his sleep deepened; then leaving the ayah to fan him, and be ready to give him more nourishment when he should awake, she stole away in search of her husband.

Mr. Brudenel, having helped his other guests to refresh themselves after their night's strain of anxiety, having placed baths and refreshment before them, had now gathered his own men together, and, with Mr. Gilchrist and Osborn, was proceeding to search for Ralph.

"How is your patient, wifey?" asked he, as he observed his wife's approach.

"Better," said she in a cheerful voice. "He was quite clear in mind for a short time, and is now asleep. I hope you will find your young friend safe and well," she added, turning to Mr. Gilchrist.

"Thank you, madam," replied he. "If not, I shall feel guilty of his loss to my dying day, for I took him from comparative safety, chiefly for my own pleasure in the company of his bright boyhood."

"Pooh, pooh!" cried Mr. Brudenel. "We will have him all right in a couple of hours. Lads like he take a deal of killing. I have been in queer places dozens of times myself, but always turned up again like a bad shilling. Forward, my friends!"

They rode down the hillside; a turn in the path hid them from sight; then they reappeared upon the plain through which the stream flowed, and picked their careful way across the ford, the horses throwing up the sparkling water at each step as they splashed through. Then they slowly mounted the rocky track on the farther side, and disappeared from sight.

Mrs. Brudenel watched the cavalcade to this spot, and then returned to the invalid.

"We will go to the tent first," said Mr. Gilchrist. They did so. The fire which they had built up was burned down to a handful of smouldering ashes; the little white note was still there upon the tree, plainly in sight; the tent was deserted, no sign was there of any person having visited it. The silence and solitude was significant and oppressive.

With a gloomy brow, Gilchrist turned his horse's head towards the defile up which Ralph had fled.

This led away from the direction of the river, back into the jungle through which they had come, but farther east. No word was spoken among the searchers as they rode up the pass. It was very narrow, probably but the bed of a mountain stream when the rains had fallen plentifully, and now dry. The jungle closed in thickly upon it, and became more and more dense as they mounted the hill. The natives who accompanied the party pointed out the spot where the two tiger cubs had lain, and been killed. It was marked by the bleached and scattered bones of various deer, some sambhurs' horns, and remains of other creatures, which had formed the prey of the parent animals.

With a sick heart, Gilchrist nerved himself to examine this débris. He turned over leg bones, skulls, and all which he could find, not leaving one unnoticed, but none were human remains. Not the slightest sign appeared to show that Ralph had been there, nor that the full-grown beasts had revisited the spot.

They pursued their way with difficulty, so thick was the tangle of the underwood. Huge ferns reared gigantic fronds among shrubs of a hundred different kinds; orchids hung pendant from lofty trees; creepers of many sorts, with blossoms of every colour, drooped from heights, clung to branches, wound their devious way from trunk to trunk, cast curtains of foliage and flower around monarchs of the forest and humble scrub, touched the fertile virgin earth, took fresh root, and started upon new complications in other directions.

But what was this? Dark vultures concealed a massive form stretched upon the ground in a little glade, comparatively open. What were they devouring?

At the approach of the searchers they rose, heavily flapping their ill-omened pinions, among hoarse cries, and awaited the completion of their meal from short distances.

Mr. Gilchrist turned very faint, he could not proceed, he leant against the trunk of a tree while the rest cut their way through the intervening vines, and a jackal sneaked away at their approach.

A cry of surprise and relief broke from Mr. Brudenel's lips.

"It is a female tiger's remains, nothing worse!" shouted he. "She has been killed by a magnificent shot, here in the neck! A single bullet did for her! Your man has been this way, without doubt; and does he not know how to handle his rifle! _He_ is no bungler, that's certain."

Mr. Gilchrist took fresh heart, and approached the spot. The tiger's bones were picked nearly clean already; the foul birds of prey had wasted no time. Little but the skeleton remained of what had, only twenty-four hours earlier, been so fearsome and so splendid a brute; and which had been done to death by one little piece of lead buried in its spine.

The eyes which had glared with yellow fire were picked clean from the head, the jaws which had uttered many a dreadful cry were lying wide open in ghastly mockery of rage, and the tongue was torn from behind them.

"We will keep this skull," exclaimed Brudenel with triumph. "There is little else worth carrying off, but this will be a trophy worth keeping. Your friend has got safely away from _this_ peril, at anyrate, Gilchrist; we will find him yet, you will see. He's no fool to have shot like this!"

Gilchrist smiled. A faint ray of hope pierced into his heart at the cheery words. It certainly must have been Denham who had killed that tiger,--that must have been the shot which had been heard. But why had he not returned? Where was he now?