CHAPTER ELEVEN.
"TCHACK! TCHACK!"
"They'll give me some tea," thought Stan as, with head throbbing so thathe could not hold it up, he sank down in the place to which he had beenled, too much exhausted by all he had gone through to do more thanglance round and see that it was literally a cage, whose floor and barswere of thick bamboos, opening upon a kind of yard from which came asickening odour.
That was all he could note in the gloom, feeling only too glad to sinkdown against one side, which also seemed to be formed of bars. Then hiseyes closed and he fell into a kind of stupor, in which the whole of theday's adventures passed before him, from the earliest start till hestaggered into his prison and heard the door banged to and fastenedbehind him. There it all was again, seeming to be beaten into his headwith some great mallet with sickening reiteration, till sleep came afterburning hours of misery, and the beating upon his brain ceased inoblivion.
Mingled with the thump, thump, thump, thump, as of his troubles beingdriven into his head so that he should never forget them, he had someconsciousness of a door opening and a great red paper lantern appearingthrough the wall, shining like the moon seen through a thick fog.
Then there was a bang as of some heavy pot being placed on the floor,followed by another which splashed over his hand. Some one seemed to bespeaking to him in a hoarse, deep, guttural voice, followed by a surlygrunt; but he could not rouse himself sufficiently to answer what seemedin his dream-like state to be questions in the Chinese tongue; whiledirectly after there was a tremendously loud rattling, such as mighthave been produced by a great staff being drawn over bars. Then furtherrattling, with shouts as if some one yelled the syllables "Ho, yo fiyup, yup, yup!" close by his head, with the effect of producing othersounds full of rage, snarling, squeaking, and squealing, while _bang!bang! bang_!--it was as if some great cat, a tiger or leopard, werebounding heavily about its cage.
Then came the rattling as of the great staff being drawn across the barsagain, a grunt or two, the banging of the heavy door, and silence.
It was to Stan as if he had been roused out of his trance-like sleep tohear all this, as the great, ruddy, moon-like lantern burned more hotlyinto his eyes; and then all was closed in darkness, silence, andoblivion once more.
_Cock-a-doodle-doo--oo--oo_!
A long-drawn crow, hoarse and croaky as ever cochin-china fowl utteredafter heavily flapping its wings, and Stan was back in Old England,dull, aching, stupidly drowsy, and in a confused way feeling that he wasby a farmyard with the window open.
But his eyelids did not part, and those of his brain seemed to be quitedark still, for he had not the most remote conception of anything more.
And so he lay in a hutched-up, awkward position, with the back of hishead against some upright bamboos, without stirring. It was almostdark, but the cool grey of the coming morning was filtering down into avile, close yard, and spreading slowly in through the bars of a greatcage, divided in two by the uprights against which the lad had sunk; andas slowly as the light stole into the great cage, so stole in theprisoner's power to think.
At last it began to seem--it can be called nothing else--that somethingwas fidgeting his hair about. At first there was a gentle touch or twoas if it were parted, and then something tickled close up to the crown,and Stan gave his head a twitch, but he did not open his eyes.
The tickling sensation ceased, however, and he was slowly sinking backinto oblivion, when the fidgeting and tickling began again, making himjerk his head.
Again the fidgeting feeling passed off, and he was nearly unconsciousonce more, when he was aroused, and this time he opened his eyeswonderingly, to grasp some notion of there being a softly diffused andfaint light gradually coming down in a sloping way through thick bars;and then there was the tickling, and the stirring of his hair.
Wakefulness and reason were slowly asserting themselves now, making thelad turn his head slightly on one side and try to look up.
He did so in a dreamy kind of belief that he was somewhere in a placewith a huge spider, one far bigger than he had ever imagined before;that it was hanging from the ceiling; that it kept on lowering its legstill they were near enough to touch his head; and that then it began tosoftly stir his hair.
So Stan, after screwing his head sideways, raised one eye to the fullestextent and looked wonderingly up for that great spider. But he did notsee it, for the simple reason that the spider was not there.
But he saw something else, which brought his full senses back in aninstant, making him utter a hoarse cry, and, scrambling up, bound rightacross to the other side of the great bamboo cage into which he had beenthrust.
It was sufficiently startling, and must have had a similar effect uponone older and sturdier than he.
For as he brought his eye to bear, there, just above his scalp, wassuspended what at the first glance through the dim light seemed to bethe head and neck of a large snake, softly dancing up and down beforedescending to touch his hair. But that was only his first idea, for thesecond glance was sufficient to make him grasp the fact that it was nosnake, but a long, thin-fingered hand with quivering, pliable fingers,smooth below but hairy at the back, and at the end of a very long, thin,hairy arm which had been thrust between two upright bamboos.
It was only momentary, for as Stan uttered his hoarse cry the handdarted out of sight as rapidly as if it had been made of india-rubber,to be followed by the sound of a bump as if its owner had made a boundacross the part of the divided cage in which Stan now stood with everynerve quivering, and his brain actively at work bringing back theincidents of the previous day.
"Another prisoner," thought Stan, and he shuddered with horror, forslight as was the glance he had obtained, it was enough to raise upplenty of horrors. The hand and arm were frightfully attenuated, and hefelt that if this were a fellow-prisoner, the poor creature must havesuffered the most terrible starvation to bring him to such a state. Hewas a prisoner too, and so horrible were his feelings for the next fewmoments that the confusion and semi-delirium of the previous nightthreatened to return.
But after he had rested, his thoughts grew calmer again in the silenceand the soft grey light.
He was a prisoner, but an English prisoner, he felt, and the Chineseguard would not dare to injure him.
He gazed rather wildly at the place from which he had leaped, to seeupright bamboos very close together, but with space enough between for avery thin hand and arm to be thrust through; and now the disposition tospeak to one who must, whoever he was, be a fellow-sufferer cameuppermost.
But he did not speak; his thoughts took another direction, and hemastered his position.
He was, in fact, in a great cage--such a one as might have been used bya keeper of wild beasts for the dwelling of some animal.
The floor was, as before stated, composed of bamboo bars similar tothose which formed the front; and as the light broadened slightly, Stancould just make out that there was a light wall only a few feet away,and that the wall was continued upward some ten or a dozen feet.
Turning his eyes to the spot from which he had leaped, Stan swept theopen division again, noting the while that all was perfectly still. Buthe could see nothing, till all at once he fancied that he detected thetip of one of the thin fingers again; but at the slightest movement hemade, the finger, if it had been there, was withdrawn.
It was impossible to help a shuddering sensation creeping through him,for there was something strangely uncanny about that hand seen in thedim twilight; and the thought of being so close a fellow-prisoner of soweird a personage grew more and more repellent as the utter silencecontinued.
But there was one satisfactory thing to make matters more bearable, andthat was the fact that the light was steadily increasing; and as, aftertrying hard to penetrate the mysterious screen, Stan once more lookedabout his prison, and above all examined the doorway through which hehad been thrust, he caught sight of two clumsy-looking pots, which,though the produce of the land which ga
ve us porcelain, were of suchrough, coarse earthenware that it would have been considered too roughfor flower-pots at home.
But the prisoner's throat felt parched and his lips hot and cracked,while a rapid inspection proved to him that one of the vessels containedwater.
It was no time for being nice. Obeying the natural craving, Stan sankupon his knees, raised the pot with both hands, and the next minute hewas drinking deeply of the cool, grateful fluid, which trickled downwith a sensation that was delightful, and he had drunk long and deeplybefore the questioning thought came:
"Is it clean?"
He set the pot down again close to the wall, and shuddered slightly, forthe dank, cool morning air was distinctly tainted with a horrible odourwhich he believed came from the yard.
Putting all suggestive thoughts from him, he turned his attention to theother pot, and saw that a couple of sticks rose above one side; and totest whether his surmise was correct, he took them both in hand, raisedthem towards the faint light, and found that he had judged rightly, forhe brought up a lump of boiled rice adhering to the chopsticks, which hedropped suddenly on hearing a faint noise to his left.
There was no doubt about the cause; for there, looking more weird andstrange than at first, was the limb which had first startled him, withthe long, thin hand outstretched, and the fingers twitching in a mostunmistakable fashion.
A sense of relief came over Stan now, for he saw at once that this wasnot the half-mummified hand of some starving prisoner, but that of alarge ape; and without hesitation the lad stooped down again, seized thechopsticks, and scooping up with them as much of the wet rice as wouldstay on, he stepped across to the extended hand, which closed round thefood on the instant and disappeared between the bars.
_Tchack_! came in a low, quick utterance, followed by other sounds whichplainly indicated what was becoming of the rice.
"I can't eat that stuff," thought Stan; and visions of one of hiscustomary breakfasts floated before his eyes, in company with wonderingideas about how long it would be before any one came and he would havean opportunity to appeal or order the man to put him in communicationwith some one in authority.
"It's out of ignorance," he said to himself. "They dare not keep mehere."
_Tchack_! came again, this time in quite a cheerful tone, and Stan'sthoughts were again diverted. His face crinkled into a smile, for hefelt that this was a fellow-prisoner with whom he could make friends atonce; and without hesitation he dug out some more rice with thechopsticks, and dabbed the lump into the once more extended hand.
"Is it good, old chap?" he said in a friendly tone; and for responsecame:
_Tchacker_!
"Monkey pidgin--eh?" said Stan as the hand disappeared, leaving some wetgrains sticking to the bamboo bars, a fact which resulted in anotherhand appearing on the prisoner's side and the attenuated fingerscleaning off every grain with wonderful celerity before it disappeared.
"Let's see what you're like," said Stan, putting his face to the bars,to find that there was light enough now to show him a similar divisionto his own, with a dumpy, solidly built monkey squatting down on the farside, nursing the handful of rice against its broad chest, and pickingit up rapidly grain by grain.
As Stan looked through, the creature raised its head, which seemedjoined without neck to its chest, and displayed a pair of keen-looking,very human eyes, peering at him from beneath their straight, overhangingbrows; and as they twinkled brightly, there was a third flash from adouble set of very white teeth, which were displayed in a grin.
Then the eating went on as if there were not a moment to lose, till Stanfell back half-startled, for as the last white grain disappeared behindthe thin, tightly drawn lips, the animal rose upon a pair of short,crooked legs, sprang at the bars, to hold on with its feet, and oncemore a long, thin, spidery arm and hand came through.
"Hungry--eh?" said Stan, half-annoyed with himself for his display ofdread.
_Tchack_! was the reply, and the fingers curved upward in so suggestivea way that Stan raised the pot and poured into the palm as much as itwould hold.
In went the hand again, and Stan stood holding the pot against hisbreast, listening to the sound made by the monkey eating.
The natural result was that the odour given off by the wet rice rose tothe prisoner's nostrils; and it was not enticing, for it was not unlikethat of wet clay. But the holder knew that it was rice, and that it waseatable, though unappetising, and it awakened in him a feeling oflonging consequent upon its being many hours since he had touched food;so, taking up some of the sticky grains on one of the chopsticks, heraised it to his lips, with the result that they curled slightly indisgust.
But nature was hungry, and not to be disappointed from anyfastidiousness displayed by a pair of lips, nor yet by the disgust of atongue. It was only the first step that cost, and after making anattempt to eat, Stan went on, to find that the mess, though anything butnice, was satisfying; and he was busy at the second suggestion of amouthful when he had to draw back sharply, for like a flash the weirdhand darted out, grabbed the edge of the pot, and tugged it towards thebars.
But Stan's arm was round the vessel, and his withdrawal carried it awayout of the animal's reach.
"Manners!" cried Stan; and he was at once attacked by what seemed to bemeant for a volley of reproaches, in tones which somehow seemed familiarand connected with the troubles of the past night, especially as theywere accompanied by sounds caused by the animal bounding backwards andforwards, hurling itself from the division bars to those which faced theyard, till _bang! bang! bang_! came a tremendous beating against thedoor, followed by one angry roar of Chinese adjurations.
_Wow_! came in a piteous tone from beyond the bars, as the noise outsideceased; and directly after the hand was thrust out, palm upwards, andthe fingers twitching.
Stan paid no heed for a few moments, but stood waiting for the door tobe opened, ready to attack his jailer, whoever he might be, with suchChinese as he knew; but all remained silent, and a feeling of angryindignation swept over the lad, enraged now as the knowledge of hisposition flashed through him.
"Insolent brutes!" he said half-aloud. "I'm a foreign devil, am I? AndI'm to be shut up in the next cage to a great monkey, am I? What do youmean? To make a show of me? Oh, it's unbearable!"
_Tchack_!
"You think so too, do you?" cried Stan aloud.
_Tchacker_!
"You think it's worse? Well done. You're a wiser monkey than Ithought, then. There, old chap--fellow-prisoner--you shan't find me abad friend. Here, peg away!" And half-laughing the while--a laugh fullof mocking indignation--Stan thrust the pot down close to the bars. Inan instant one long arm was holding it tight against them like a band ofbone and muscle, and the other was working to and from it like ananimated spoon.
"Poor brute!" said Stan softly, and he raised one hand with extendedindex-finger to touch the hook-like arm.
_Ur-r-r-r-r_! came in a savage, malicious snarl, and the free hand camedown spang upon his wrist, seizing it with startling violence, andsnatching it towards the bars, against which it struck heavily.
There was a momentary struggle, during which in imagination the lad sawhis fingers being crushed between two trap-like jaws, and then he wasfree.
"Why, you savage beast!" he cried fiercely.
_Tchack_! said the monkey; and the hand was going and coming calmlyenough now, and almost without a sound.
"Humph!" grunted Stan. "My fault, I suppose. Thought I was going totake away its food;" and he stood rubbing his wrist gently where it hadbeen bruised against the bamboo bar, and watched the monkey's hands tillthe last grain had been cleared out of the pot, which was released andallowed to fall over upon its side.
"Finished?" said Stan, good-humouredly now, for the pain had passedaway.
_Tchack_!
The sound--cry, ejaculation, whatever it may be called--was evidently areply, and as it was uttered the hand came out towards the prisoner oncemore.
/> "Why, you hungry brute!" said Stan. "No more. All gone," he cried; andhe stooped down to take away the pot.
It was incautiously done, and in an instant the animal's fingers hadclosed round his hand tightly. For the moment Stan was about to obeyhis natural instinct and tear his hand away, but it struck him that thegrasp was not meant inimically, and that even if it were he must be thestronger of the two, and could prevent his strange adversary fromdragging his arm sufficiently through the bars to make use of its teeth.So he stood fast, and found that, in place of tearing hard and tryingto drag the hand it had secured through the bars, it was contentingitself with pressing the hand firmly and nestling its own fingers withinhis grasp, as if the sensation were satisfactory and it enjoyed theproximity of a companion.
"Want to be friends?" said the lad quietly.
_Snar-r-r-r-r_! went the animal savagely, snatching its hand away, andwith one bound leaping to the other side of its cage.
The reason was made plain the next moment. Its hearing was the keener,and it first heard approaching footsteps.
The next minute great bars were being rattled down from the door, whichwas thrown open, and three rough-looking Chinese soldiers entered; thefirst going straight to the barred division and drawing the shaft of hisspear cleverly along the bamboos before thrusting the butt through andmaking prods and savage thrusts with it at the wretched monkey, whichshrieked and chattered and bounded about, with noise and turmoil whichbrought back vividly now the strange sounds Stan seemed to have dreamedin the confused and feverish wanderings of the night.