“It seems, however, that in going away they had neglected to cast off Cornelius’s canoe. Cornelius himself Brown had let go at the beginning of the shooting, with a kick for a parting benediction. Tamb’ Itam, after arising from amongst the dead, saw the Nazarene running up and down the shore amongst the corpses and the expiring fires. He uttered little cries. Suddenly he rushed to the water, and made frantic efforts to get one of the Bugis boats into the water. ‘Afterwards, till he had seen me,’ related Tamb’ Itam, ‘he stood looking at the heavy canoe and scratching his head.’ ‘What became of him?’ I asked. Tamb’ Itam, staring hard at me, made an expressive gesture with his right arm. ‘Twice I struck, Tuan,’ he said. ‘When he beheld me approaching he cast himself violently on the ground and made a great outcry, kicking. He screeched like a frightened hen till he felt the point; then he was still, and lay staring at me while his life went out of his eyes.’
“This done, Tamb’ Itam did not tarry. He understood the importance of being the first with the awful news at the fort. There were, of course, many survivors of Dain Waris’s party; but in the extremity of panic some had swum across the river, others had bolted into the bush. The fact is that they did not know really who struck that blow—whether more white robbers were not coming, whether they had not already got hold of the whole land. They imagined themselves to be the victims of a vast treachery, and utterly doomed to destruction. It is said that some small parties did not come in till three days afterwards. However, a few tried to make their way back to Patusan at once, and one of the canoes that were patrolling the river that morning was in sight of the camp at the very moment of the attack. It is true that at first the men in her leaped overboard and swam to the opposite bank, but afterwards they returned to their boat and started fearfully upstream. Of these Tamb’ Itam had an hour’s advance.”
XLV
“When Tamb’ Itam, paddling madly, came into the town-reach, the women, thronging the platforms before the houses, were looking out for the return of Dain Waris’s little fleet of boats. The town had a festive air; here and there men, still with spears or guns in their hands, could be seen moving or standing on the shore in groups. Chinamen’s shops had been opened early; but the marketplace was empty, and a sentry, still posted at the corner of the fort, made out Tamb’ Itam, and shouted to those within. The gate was wide open. Tamb’ Itam jumped ashore and ran in headlong. The first person he met was the girl coming down from the house.
“Tamb’ Itam, disordered, panting, with trembling lips and wild eyes, stood for a time before her as if a sudden spell had been laid on him. Then he broke out very quickly: ‘They have killed Dain Waris and many more.’ She clapped her hands, and her first words were, ‘Shut the gates.’ Most of the fortmen had gone back to their houses, but Tamb’ Itam hurried on the few who remained for their turn of duty within. The girl stood in the middle of the courtyard while the others ran about. ‘Doramin,’ she cried despairingly, as Tamb’ Itam passed her. Next time he went by he answered her thought rapidly, ‘Yes. But we have all the powder in Patusan.’ She caught him by the arm, and, pointing at the house, ‘Call him out,’ she whispered, trembling.
“Tamb’ Itam ran up the steps. His master was sleeping. ‘It is I, Tamb’ Itam,’ he cried at the door, ‘with tidings that cannot wait.’ He saw Jim turn over on the pillow and open his eyes, and he burst out at once. ‘This, Tuan, is a day of evil, an accursed day.’ His master raised himself on his elbow to listen—just as Dain Waris had done. And then Tamb’ Itam began his tale, trying to relate the story in order, calling Dain Waris Panglima, and saying: ‘The Panglima then called out to the chief of his own boatmen, “Give Tamb’ Itam something to eat” ’—when his master put his feet to the ground and looked at him with such a discomposed face that the words remained in his throat.
“ ‘Speak out,’ said Jim. ‘Is he dead?’ ‘May you live long,’ cried Tamb’ Itam. ‘It was a most cruel treachery. He ran out at the first shots and fell. …’ His master walked to the window and with his fist struck at the shutter. The room was made light; and then in a steady voice, but speaking fast, he began to give him orders to assemble a fleet of boats for immediate pursuit, go to this man, to the other—send messengers; and as he talked he sat down on the bed, stooping to lace his boots hurriedly, and suddenly looked up. ‘Why do you stand here?’ he asked very red-faced. ‘Waste no time.’ Tamb’ Itam did not move. ‘Forgive me, Tuan, but … but,’ he began to stammer. ‘What?’ cried his master aloud, looking terrible, leaning forward with his hands gripping the edge of the bed. ‘It is not safe for thy servant to go out amongst the
