CHAPTER XXI
THE RAPIDS
Had Ralph known it, he was now not so very far from his friends. Thestream, down which he was floating, was a tributary of that on the banksof which he had become separated from them, flowing down the next valleybetween the hills, and becoming merged in the larger one some five orsix miles below the police-station.
The range of hills between them was higher and more abrupt than thatupon which the police-station was situated, concealing it from view; butthe density of the forest and jungle made its inhabitants widelydispersed. They were wholly composed of small scattered remnants of wildKarens, constantly fighting with each other, split up into smallnumbers, of which half a dozen families would suffice to stock avillage, and incessantly changing their abode.
They would come to a jungle-covered hill, and set it on fire. When asufficient space for their wants was burnt out, they planted rice uponthe ground manured by the ashes, ran up a few hovels with bamboos andpalm leaves, and awaited their harvest. This gathered, the same landwould not bear a second crop; and, space being unlimited, the remedy wassimple. They only moved to another hillside, and repeated the fire andfarming manoeuvres.
When their own rice failed them, they helped themselves to thatbelonging to other villages or tribes, provided these were weaker thanthemselves. Sometimes they made a mistake on this point, and becamewiped off the face of the land. If this did not happen, they generallywiped out the others; for, if anyone escaped, he was bound to slay asmany of his enemies as he had lost of friends. This species of vendettawas a religion to them all, and a curious comment upon the idea that, totake life of any description, was to shut the gates of the highestheaven upon the slayer.
The Burman will not destroy the principle of life even in noxiousanimals, but murder is his commonest crime, and his murders are oftenaccompanied with great atrocity.
The dacoits who plundered Ralph fell into the power of an enemy's tribe,and the chief's head was carried to the police-station for sake of thereward paid for all such tribute; and while Mr. Gilchrist was sadlymourning over what he considered the certain proof of his young friend'sdeath, in the discovery of his watch, Denham had passed the junction ofthe two rivulets, and was prosperously pursuing his voyage towards theSalween River.
We say "prosperously," though, in good sooth, the voyage was carried onwith many vicissitudes. The stream narrowed day by day, as the extremeheat dried up its margins. Now the frail barque stuck helplessly in themud, which was yet too soft to bear walking upon.
Ralph would sink up to his knees as he pulled and hauled his littlecraft out of the shallows, and set it once more afloat.
Then he would become entangled in debris of the forest,--sticks, rottenstumps, masses of leaves, etc., all stuck together in one jumble, andcaught by a little promontory, wafted into some tiny bay, or evendetained by the drooping boughs of some tree or shrub dipping into thewater, to coagulate and solidify into a floating island.
Poor Ralph's garments were of the slightest description, for he hadleft all which he had possessed at first--little enough at thebest--when he fled from the dacoits. It was well for him that he hadretained his knife; but at least his clothes, such as they were, driedeasily in the sun, which was a good thing, as they were wetted throughand through every day.
"I wish I were an Israelite in the desert," thought he, as his onlybutton came off, and he cut a hole in his waistband and tied a loop oftwisted grass into it. "How I am ever to get into a suit of broadclothagain passes me to imagine. But it is well for me that folks are notvery particular hereabouts."
On the fifth day of his voyage he saw the vista open before him, and awide expanse of water appeared to his sight. This must be, he thought,the Salween River; and he hoped that his troubles were now approachingtheir end.
"I shall soon come to an English settlement, or a missionary station, orat least to some Burmese village," he thought; "and some good Christianwill help me on my way. What a pretty place this is!"
The river upon which he had now emerged wound very much, and almost tookthe appearance of a succession of lakes. Hills clothed with jungle shutit in, and stretches of rocky land jutted out from either side atirregular distances.
Protected from the force of the deeper current by one of these littlepromontories, the rapidity of the stream down which he had come shot himwell out into the wider river with a velocity which surprised him;though, in his ignorance of what it meant, he considered it "very jolly"at first to be cleared of all the impedimenta which had hithertoencumbered him so sadly.
But this was only a momentary joy, as his frail barque was caught in apower beyond his control, and whirled about in a manner which even hesaw meant mischief. He had but one thing to save--his orchids. He hadprepared for a catastrophe of some sort previously, and had them merelyslung by a long cord to a cane. He caught this off, throwing the looparound his neck, and in five minutes more was battling with rapids forhis life, his raft beaten into a thousand pieces.
He had clutched, with the energy of despair, the stout bamboo which hehad used to punt his raft; and, clinging instinctively to this, wastossed down some two or three feet; plunged overhead in a pool, floatedup again; washed violently against rough stones; felt his feet, lostthem again, was rolled over; dashed down another little cascade; andbrought up, finally, breathless, bruised, battered and bleeding, upon atiny ait in the centre of the stream, where his bamboo had becomeentangled between some small bushes.
He had but strength enough to catch at a firmer support, and drawhimself up upon the islet, where he lay, utterly spent, for a long time.
Everything darkened before his eyes, the earth seemed to reel beneathhim, all the heavens to be unsteady above him, and he becameunconscious.
He must have remained so for long; as, when he slowly came to himselfagain, the stars were jewelling the purple vault above him, and the fullmoon casting a long silvery highway over the rippling water around.
Where was he? What had happened to him? He tried to sit up, and feltvery sick, stiff, and sore, utterly confused and helpless. He did notseem to care for his condition, or even to wonder at it. Existence alonewas enough for him. Enough?--too much, for hysteria overcame him; he hidhis face and cried like a child.
Baffled on every side, everything lost but life--even that imperilled inthe most desperate manner; surely God must be against him, it was of nouse to fight longer against the pricks; better to lie there and die,rather than struggle any more. Despair made of him its puppet at last.Was it any good to pray?--did God hear him? Would God answer hissupplications? Was there a God of love and mercy at all, when he wasbeaten back at every point like this, however bravely he tried to bearup against misfortune?
He was ashamed of weeping, even though there was no one to observe him;and it did but exhaust him further, yet it was a relief too. His tearswere soon spent, and he sat, forlorn and dejected, gazing in apurposeless way before him, taking no heed to what he saw.
But gradually the extreme beauty of the scene forced itself upon hismental vision. The hills, covered with rich masses of woods, were blackagainst the clear opal sky, where the moon reigned in her pureloveliness. The shadows of these hills lay deep on the translucentwaters, except where the broken rocks stood picturesquely above them,and changed their duskiness to pearly foam. The stars were reflected onthe bosom of the river wherever it was sufficiently still; and a herd ofhog-deer issued from a clearing of the jungle, and stooped theirgraceful heads to drink just where the moonlight fell on them.
The clear whistle of some night-bird was heard and answered from aneighbouring thicket, "Did you do it? Did you do it?" they cried inturn, and the rippling water made a gentle accompaniment to their song.
"I will lift up mine eyes to the hills, whence cometh my help," wasborne in upon Ralph's heart, and his longdrawn sobs ceased.
Up sprang the sun, and touched the tops of the hills with golden glory.Colour and warmth flashed over the landscape, and brought comfort to hischilled fra
me. What was that something glittering brightly between thetrees? It was no natural object--the outline was too regular, too hard;it was the work of man's hand, for it was gilt,--it was, yes, it was apagoda! Man had erected that building,--his fellow-men must be near athand. Thank God! thank God!
He rose, and sought to unstiffen his cramped limbs with exercise, andthe sun warmed him.
On the narrow strip of shingle where he had been cast up, a human waifand stray, lay a small bundle. Ralph looked at it, stooped over it, andlifted it from the wet stones. It was his little package of orchids,safely bound up as he had arranged it; which, slight thing as it was,had safely stood the wreck of all else, and lay stranded at his feetnone the worse for its immersion.
Ralph almost laughed to see it. "You foolish things," thought he, "couldnothing of greater value to me have been spared for me. Can _you_ feedme, clothe me, save me, take me to my friends, do _anything_ for me?"
He spurned them with his foot in irritation. Even his knife, his oneprecious possession, was gone; his garments hung in shreds upon him;there was nothing to eat upon the islet; and this ridiculous bundle ofplants, good for nothing but to gratify the whimsical taste of a richman, was intact.
Then his mood changed, and he took it up in his hands again. Between thecrevices of the bark and moss he saw one tiny delicate floweret pushingits fragile head out, and seeming to smile at him.
"Good Lord," he said, "just to think of this! Come, then, if God so madethe grass of the field, shall He not much more care for you, oh ye oflittle faith?" He readjusted the loop of string, and passed it againround his neck.
Then he tried to think how he might reach the mainland, where thatpagoda glimmered like a hand beckoning to him, but he could not deviseany plan.
He was too weary and spent to attempt swimming in that powerful current;he had no means of making a second raft, or helping himself in any way;there were neither bamboos nor lianas on this scrap of land.
He sat down close to the edge of the water, and rested his chin in hishands, gazing straight before him. He must sit there till he died; whatelse remained for him to do? He thought of his mother, of Agnes, of hisbrothers and little sisters. How grieved they all would be when the newswent home to them. But would it ever go home? No, not one of his friendswould know how he had struggled, how he had failed, where he had died.No one would visit his grave, or weep over his remains. The crows andthe vultures would fight over his carcase, and leave his bones to blanchthere, unburied. For him no funeral service, no hallowed ground, no holyhymn.
"Oh, my God!" he cried aloud, "have I deserved this? If this is the endof my short life, am I fit to go before Thee on Thy judgment throne, andconfidently crave for mercy? What have I done so wicked as to meritthis? Tell me, oh my Father, and let me repent."
So he sat, until, his eyes gazing mournfully straight before him, hebecame aware of some objects moving through the jungle on the mainland.They came in single file, carrying some large burden. Then one ran fromthe rear, past the others, and gave directions, waving a long lean armand gesticulating.
No animals would conduct themselves so, they must be men! GraciousProvidence grant that they be men!
They moved steadily forward among the thinning trees to the very marginof the river, and were plainly to be perceived. Native Burmese!Fishermen, bearing a large net, which they were preparing to cast intothe water, and draw up stream.
Ralph's voice failed him from revulse of feeling, he thought that heshould choke. He sprang to his feet, tore off the last rags upon him,twisted them round a stick, and waved them in the air.
They were not perceived,--no notice was taken. He stooped to the water,drank from the hollow of his hand, his tongue was unloosed, he castwater precipitately over head and face, stood erect once more, clearfrom the undergrowth, in the plashy shallows, waved his flag with theenergy of despair, and shouted with all his might--"Ahoy! Ahoy! Ahoy!"