"We are brothers," he said expansively. "We have—hup!—broken bread and eaten salt together. What is mine—hup!—also is yours."
Scott didn't make the mistake of taking the speech literally, but he felt a glow of good fellowship toward Darus. After all, it had not been the man's intent to break faith with him. He swallowed more of the powerful liquor and watched interestedly the pulse-quickening movements of one of the female dancers, mistaking for sexuality the innocent gestures by which she recounted a legend of heroism born in the long ago. Utterly relaxed and pleased with the way things were going, he was unworried by thoughts of the morrow.
A little later he was lighted to his house and left to himself in a room fragrant with the blended odors of colorful wild flowers. Feeling a little lightheaded from the arrack, he stripped off his shirt, kicked off his shoes and stretched himself on a mat spread with a cotton cloth. The air was cool now, and from outside came the strangely sweet gamelan music. Drowsily he watched the shadows cast by a crude lamp filled with palm oil made aromatic by an admixture of inflammable gum. The sense of well-being that had come over him at the feast persisted, and it was good to feel so.
He was on the verge of extinguishing the light when a golden-skinned girl entered the house soundlessly and came to where he lay. More delighted than surprised, he sat up, curious and expectant, thinking he recognized her as one of the dancers who had entertained them earlier; but it didn't really matter. She was a graceful creature, neither shy nor bold; and she was clad in a tight red sarong that covered her from waist to just above the knees and a short, loose jacket of red that fell open to reveal rounded breasts with nipples the color of coral.
"Tuan," she said softly in a pleasant voice, kneeling before him and touching her forehead to the floor.
The liquor he had consumed was sufficient to deaden his sensitiveness to the coconut oil in the gleaming black hair that fell below her shoulders. In the flickering light, in this room scented by flowers, she was seductively lovely as she raised herself and sat on her heels.
"Tuan," she repeated.
He grinned at her, wanting her but also desiring to prolong a little the pleasure of anticipation. In English he asked, "Who are you, lovely one?"
She smiled then, showing teeth as yet unstained by betel-nut juice. He wondered at that, but was glad. "I am Minah. Will the sea lord accept me?"
It was plain that she desired the privilege of sharing his mat, and he appreciated that. He wanted no woman to sleep with him because she had to. He reached out touching her bare arm. It was soft and smooth and the contact sent a thrill of urgent need through him.
"Come," he said gently, pulling her toward him.
She freed herself of his grip and, without rising, stripped off the jacket and saw that he liked the sight of her. Then, rising to her feet, she loosened the skirt-like sarong and let it drop to the floor. From head to foot she was exquisitely fashioned... so desirable that Scott caught his breath audibly.
"Minah!" he said insistently.
Slowly, with the grace characterizing her every motion, she went to the lamp. For a moment she hesitated, bathed in the soft yellow light, and his blood heated almost unbearably. Then she blew out the tiny flame and in the warm, scented darkness went eagerly to him.
23
PEARY, who had avoided the captain since their bitter verbal set-to on the night of arrival in the village, made a point of being present when Hurst reported to Scott the afternoon after the feast. The lanky woodsman had been in the jungle above the village with Hamzah since shortly after daylight and the two of them had stopped by Darus' residence immediately on return. Scott, who knew what they had been about, welcomed the man with a cup of grog. Hurst downed it at a gulp and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before setting down his treasured rifle.
"Any luck?" Scott asked.
Hurst nodded. "Some, sir. We found sign, some of it pretty fresh, but we never run onto th' varmint. Didn't really expect to, anyway, you know. I reckon we'll have to do like Hamzah wants an' use beaters to drive th' critter out where we can get a shot at 'im."
"When?" Scott demanded. He was growing anxious to get back to the Caroline; for in the clear light of day he had been wondering how she fared.
"Tomorrow mornin', if that's all right with you. Darus an' Hamzah are agreeable."
"The sooner, the better," Scott told him.
"Tomorrow, then. It can't be too soon to suit Darus. It's about time for th' tiger to pay this place another visit. I guess you want to go along, don't you, cap'n?"
"Definitely," Scott said. He had never seen a tiger and he was not unmindful of the prestige to be gained with the rajah by taking part in the hunt. "I suppose Darus is going, too."
"I'd like a shot at the tiger, too," Peary broke in abruptly. "You know I'm a good shot, Scott."
Scott shrugged. "It's all right with me, but Hurst is the skipper of this business. I don't know a damned thing about tiger hunting."
"I don't know nothin' about it, neither," Hurst said with a slow grin, "but I sure do aim to find out in th' mornin'. Th' critter's got feet bigger'n those on a mountain b'ar."
"What about me?" Peary demanded. "I want to go. I've hunted some."
"Ain't no reason you shouldn't come along, too, Mr. Peary."
"What is this business about beaters?" Scott asked.
"Oh, that. It's sort of like drivin' deer with dogs, seems like, only there won't be no dogs. Hamzah'll turn out all hands to raise hell with drums an' horns; he says a tiger'll shy away from a racket. There's two openin's in th' forest alongside th' river, places where we saw plenty of sign, an' Hamzah says he can drive th' varmint into one or th' other. You an' Mr. Peary can take one stand, Darus an' me'll take th' other. Meanwhile let's hope th' son-of-a-bitch don't come back to th' village tonight."
Great fires were set alight in the streets that night to keep the striped killer away and villagers were assigned to keep them blazing high. Once, shortly after midnight, the great cat coughed in the darkness in a spine-tingled, sweat-starting manner and the nervous watchers raised a great tumult with rattles, horns, drums and muskets. Startled awake by the man-made noise, Scott caught up the loaded musket lying on the floor beside his mat; its weight and the cold dampness of the barrel were reassuring. The girl Minah shivered.
"The Lame One," she whispered fearfully. "The Lame One is hunting."
Scott pulled her close in a protectively tender gesture and she was grateful for the haven of his arms. After awhile the racket ceased and Minah's fear left her almost immediately. "The evil one has gone, turn."
She fell asleep again before Scott did.
Nearly every able male above the age of fourteen assembled at daylight; most of them were equipped with noise-making apparatus, such as drums, horns, rattles and whistles, and all carried weapons of one sort or another. The men of the Caroline turned to eagerly with muskets and cutlasses to serve with the native beaters. After a short conference with Hamzah, Hurst led Darus, Scott and Peary upstream. The morning air was cold in the high foothills and Scott was glad to be stirring about.
They came to the first opening in the rain forest and Hurst stooped to examine huge pugs in mud beside the river. Then he looked at his companions. "He was here no more'n a few hours ago."
Scott studied closely the tracks. They were huge, much bigger than his hand. One very plain pug betrayed by its shape an injury to the tiger's foot.
Hurst spoke in a hushed voice. "Th' other openin' is about thirty feet from here. You can't see it, of course, on account of th' growth. Anyway, cap'n, if you an' Mr. Peary'll take this stand, Darus an' me'll take th' other."