CHAPTER XXIII
FIGHT WITH DACOITS
Neither a boat in which to descend the river, nor a bullock-cart inwhich to reach its banks, were to be hired until the harvest was ready,so there was nothing for it but patience.
Neither Kirke nor Ralph felt themselves quite strong enough to beinclined for excessive haste. Kirke's illness, and Denham's sufferingsin the jungle, made a little further rest still desirable before runningthe risk of more danger and new fatigues. They therefore remainedquietly in the village contentedly enough, learning to know each otherand like each other better every day.
They had long conversations, discussions of every subject which occurredto them. Each had undergone a training so different from the other thatthey never saw any matter in exactly the same light, and their oppositeexperiences were mutually valuable. Kirke's deep and dark knowledge oflife was a warning to Denham; his own boyish lightness and gaiety wereencouraging to his friend.
Meantime the rice ripened, was cut, and put up in stooks, ready for thethreshing floor, in true scriptural fashion; for the manner of huskingit by hand, as before described, was too slow and costly to be practisedupon large quantities; neither was the paddy grained at all formercantile purposes, as machinery was so much more convenient for thepurpose.
Much rice, indeed, is brought to England in the form of paddy; andcleaned there by steam mills, of which there are many in Liverpool andelsewhere.
In the valley where Ralph and Kirke found themselves, it was aprosperous year. The people had been able to buy a sufficiency ofexcellent young plants, the weather had been favourable to their growth,the yield was good--the strangers had brought them luck.
But was it good or bad luck that the report of their riches should havegone forth over the land, and created envy in the hearts of some amongtheir neighbours--idler, poorer, less fortunate than they?
But so it was. Down from the wild hillside came a party of four or fivemen from a neighbouring outlying village, armed with guns and pistols.They crept along, hidden by boulder and rock; crawling through gulley,and channels of dried-up streamlets, to reconnoitre; to judge of thewealth in the village, and the exact moment when it could be seized uponto the greatest advantage.
Dacoity, as it is called, is the great curse of the hill and jungleparts of Burma. The Burman hates hard work--it is so much easier to helphimself to his neighbour's rice than to grow it for himself. If his cropfails, why should another man have more than he wants? Down he comes inthe night, sets the village on fire, kills the men, carries off themaidens, and appropriates the property.
The English law is severe upon the dacoit, but, at the time when RalphDenham was wandering about in these wild regions, British Burmaconsisted only of a long strip of seaboard, backed by a mountain-rangewhich divided it from Siam, and of the rice-growing lands in Pegu,formed by the widespread delta of the Irriwaddy River.
It was very easy for ill-doers to escape over the borders of the Britishpossessions either to the east or north, and English law could notreach them. Law and order elsewhere was conspicuous by its absence,therefore the dacoit flourished.
The English authorities set a price upon these robbers' heads, so it wasshort shrift for them if caught. To avoid this unpleasantness, theykilled their enemies whenever they found that this procedure suitedtheir convenience; and, in order to deter pursuit, they endeavoured tostrike terror into the hearts of those who might seek to apprehend them,by a peculiar refinement of cruelty in the manner of killing them. Thusthey were not nice people to meet with--far from it.
The two young men were sitting together, in the cool of the evening,upon the raised platform which ran round their hut, and formed averandah, roofed with thekkee,--a kind of dried grass,--but open onevery side to the air. There had been a magnificent sunset, whosegorgeousness had yet hardly faded from the western sky. They had beentalking, but the soothing influence of the hour was upon them and theywere silent now.
Soft curls of smoke wafted away from Kirke's cheroot; and Ralph sat on amat, leaning against the bamboo support of the verandah, gazing dreamilyover the landscape before him.
Ralph's vision was very keen, and he now became aware of three or fourmen, dimly perceptible among the gathering shadows, creeping along theriver-bank, stooping low to be thus better concealed by the reeds whichgrew upon it.
Their movements were suspicious, and he quietly called Kirke's attentionto them. Kirke could not see them, and thought that Ralph had imaginedtheir presence.
"No," said Denham, "it is not imagination; they move a short way, andthen keep quite still for a full minute or more. It is that which makesme think that they are up to mischief. Fix your eye upon that clump ofreeds the farthest to the left of four. Now, there, don't you seesomething come out from behind it?"
"Ah! I do," exclaimed Kirke. "One, two, three, four, five things. Theyare men's heads, as sure as a gun! Ralph, it strikes me that this meansdacoity."
"I believe it does," replied Ralph. "There is a large sledge there ladenwith paddy. The beggars are after that to a certainty."
"Have at them!" cried Kirke. "Don't let us allow their knavish tricks tosucceed."
"Halt," replied Ralph. "Those fellows have guns, and long swords ordaggers. There are other things stuck into their waistbelts, which areeither pistols or knives, perhaps both. Have we weapons at hand? Thereare five of them, we two could do little against them alone; we hadbetter call up old Shway Poh, and some of the villagers, to help."
"Moung Shway Poh won't be of much use. He will talk resignedly of thosescamps being the 'five enemies,' or the 'five duties,' or the 'fivegreat acts of sacrifice.' That rice is not his, he will be perfectlyresigned to the thieves annexing it."
"We must use a little gentle force then, to persuade him that one of theten precepts is to preserve your neighbour's goods when you acceptauthority over him. Shway Poh did not get this village to eat just tokeep his own rice safe, or his own skin either. But, Kirke, it is notonly that lot of rice which the beggars want. They may be short of food,and mean to have that, but what they are _really_ after is the villagewealth, the ornaments which the women wear, the money in the monastery,the valuables generally. The important thing is to beat them off there,before they creep into the village to find out what the people have."
"Perhaps you are right. Some of those girls wear really magnificentjewellery at their festivals; and it seems to me that they sport moreand more of late. Even that little Sunshine child came out the other dayin a pair of ruby earrings that might make a duchess' mouth water. Sohere goes. I bought these guns only last week for our journey. They arenot first-rate ones, but serviceable. And here is a good bowie-knife foryou, and one for me. Now for Mr. Golden Grandfather."
They found the head man of the village, who rejoiced in that lovelyname, squatted with his family around a huge tray of rice and chillies,flavoured with oil and salt. He was shovelling his supper into his mouthwith vast relish, and was extremely averse to exertion, having alreadygobbled up so much as to make movement inconvenient.
"The Englishman mistakes," he said. "Dacoits never come here. They knowwell that I am a Friday's child, fierce and passionate as the tuskedelephant which protects my soul. They dare not incur my wrath. Thevillage is safe as long as I am its chief."
"_You_ fierce and passionate?" cried his wife contemptuously. "So youmay be, but your fierceness is like the flame of a chaff fire, it flaresup easily and is out again in one minute. Did we slave and labour forour beautiful jewels simply to give them to the thief? No indeed. Showme, golden[1] youth, where the dacoits are to be seen. Will they becontent with one sledge full if they are down upon us, Poh Pyin?[2]Answer me that."
She went out into the verandah, but the house was situated behind agrove of trees which hid the rice-sledge from her sight.
"We must go in the boats," said she.
"Then go armed," implored Ralph, "for the robbers are armed to theteeth."
"You are sure?" asked she.
"Quite
sure," said Ralph.
She called up some of the men; and the village chief having now pluckedup a little energy, a boat was prepared, and put off across the stream.
So much time was lost, however, that the robbers had already linked twosledges together, and were punting them away with all speed. Upon seeingthe villagers' boat, which was impelled by six men, gaining rapidly uponthem, and followed by two more, they pointed their guns at the foremost.
"Stand back!" they cried, "or we fire."
"We had better return," whispered the fat old Shway Poh.
"Coward!" hissed out Kirke, thirsting for the fray. "What! they are butfive."
"They are desperate men," whined Shway Poh.
"If we lose our rice, there is nothing but dacoity before us, ourselves,next winter," said one of the men.
The boat shot ahead, and tried to run athwart the first sledge. Thedacoits fired. Had five guns really been able to kill six men? Therewere five rowers, and Shway Poh steering. Ralph had the sixth oar, andKirke's gun rang out in response to the attack, but only he and Denhamremained steady at their posts. All the Burmans were bowled over.Strange that the dacoits' shots should have hit them all, and missedKirke's broad figure standing erect in the bows. Did he bear a charmedlife?
There was another explanation of the mystery. He who fights and runsaway, may always live to fight another day. The six Burmans were allprostrate at the bottom of the boat, and the shots had passed harmlesslyabove them. Neither had they been taken with very true aim, for all hadgone wide of the mark.
A kick from Kirke aroused the man nearest to him.
"Get up, you scoundrel!" thundered the young man. "What are you funkingthere for? Seize them before they can reload!"
He threw himself out of the boat, which had now crossed the stream, andtore the pole from the hands of one dacoit. Ralph followed, and seizedanother by the throat, but the fellow's body was thickly besmeared withcocoanut oil, rendering him so slippery that he actually slid throughhis hands, and Denham's foot slipped, throwing him down.
Up he sprang in an instant, and tried to grasp the fellow's garments;but, with a wriggle and a twist, he was out of the coiled cloth in onemoment, leaving it in Ralph's hands, while he stood for the space of asecond, free of all impedimenta, then bounded into the jungle.
Ralph gave chase, but had no chance against the lithe limbs of theBurman, well used to such encounters, and almost as supple as a snake.After a short pursuit, he turned back to assist his friends, seeing theundesirability of separating their party into single units.
He found himself needed. Upon the report of firearms, the natives in theother two boats held aloof, and were now returning to the village,towing, however, the rice sledges with them; and the valorous Mr. GoldenGrandfather was in the act of stepping into their own, with evidentpurpose of following in their wake.
Kirke had knocked down one of the dacoits, who was either killed or laysenseless on the ground. Using his long pole as a quarter-staff, andwhirling it round his head in true old English style, he was making playagainst another, who, wholly unused to this style of thing, wasdefenceless in his hands.
But the fourth was in the act of coming up behind Kirke with a knife inhis muscular hands,--a long curved knife of deadly power--and actuallyhad it raised in air, ready to plunge into the young man's back, beneaththe shoulderblade. Ralph caught his own dagger from his cummerbund, anddashed upon the enemy's rear, with a cry of "'Ware, Kirke!"
Kirke turned, saw his danger, and faced it. Ralph plunged his dagger atthe dacoit, who raised his arm to protect his head, and received theblow in the fleshy part of it. The fifth robber crawled up through thelong grass, and wounded Ralph in the leg, bringing him to the ground;but Ralph caught his first opponent by the ankle as he lay, holding himthere with a grasp of iron, and brought him down over him.
Kirke's guns had been left in the boat, unfortunately; but the twoEnglish lads had given the dacoits no time to reload theirs, so that thefight was pretty equal. Now, however, Mr. Grandfather, regarding himselfas tolerably safe, began to blaze away from the boat to the assistanceof his guests, and the tide of battle turned.
The dacoits evidently thought this too long odds, and fled, leaving oneof their number behind. Kirke turned him over with his foot, as theothers disappeared, and found him quite dead,--an ugly sight, with hisdark, evil, scowling face set in the ashy hue of death.
"Pah!" cried Kirke. "What carrion!"
"Poor wretch," said the gentler Denham, "I am very sorry for him."
"Dacoit will revenge this upon some of us," said Mr. Golden Grandfather."This is a bad job for us."
"Nonsense, old fellow," said Kirke lightly. "The dacoits have had enoughof us for one while, and we will be prepared for them before they comeagain. The rice is safe at anyrate, that is one good thing. You must getit down to the creek with all speed. It would be the best way to setoff to-morrow with morning light."
"Yes, paya, you speak truth; but this bad job," reiterated Moung ShwayPoh.
The party returned silently to the village, there was no exultation overtheir victory, all were exhausted now the excitement was over, severalhad been more or less knocked about, and Ralph had lost a good deal ofblood from a flesh wound in his leg.
One of the women dressed it with some healing leaves, binding it up, andthey all retired to rest, but the women as well as the men were inclinedto look darkly upon the transactions of the evening, under the beliefthat though their treasures were the original inducement for thedacoits' arrival, those scoundrels would now never rest until they hadavenged blood by blood.