ho gave me such a nasty dig, he'll remember it
to the end of his days."

"What was it--a spear or a kris?" said Bob.

"Kris, right through my left shoulder. Doctor Bolter says if it had
been four inches lower it would have been fatal."

"Bother!" cried Bob. "If it had been four inches higher it would have
missed you altogether."

"Yes, of course," said Tom; "but it's precious unpleasant to have a
fellow stick his skewer right through you."

"Well, I don't know," said Bob, who had made up his mind that the proper
thing was to try and cheer the ensign, and not to let him think he was
very bad. "I think I'd just as soon have it right through as only
half-way."

"Oh, it's nothing to laugh at, I can tell you," said Tom Long, "I don't
see why you mightn't just as well have had it as me. You always get off
all right."

"I didn't last night, or rather this morning," said Bob. "I was right
into the prahu we tried to take--first man, sir--I mean boy, sir; and I
was sawing away at a mat with my knife, when all came down by the run,
and I was pitched into the river."

"And picked out," said the ensign impatiently.

"Yes, but not before I'd been swimming for a quarter of an hour--good
measure. Oh, I say, Tom, didn't I think of the crocodiles!"

"You're such a cheeky little beggar, I wonder they didn't get you," said
Tom, who looked feverish and excited. "I say, Bob Roberts, you know
what that chap, that Kling fellow, said to us about the krises."

"Yes, of course. What then?"

"Do you think they are poisoned?"

"No, not a bit. Do you?"

"Yes," said the young ensign; "and I am sure this one was, for I can
feel the wound throbbing and stabbing, and a curious sensation running
to my finger ends."

"Well, so one did when one had a bad cut," said Bob sharply. "Bah!
poisoned! it's all rubbish. Why, if you had been poisoned you'd have
been sleepy and stupid."

"I feel so now."

"What--stupid?" said Bob, grinning. "Well that's natural: you always
were?"

"I can't get up and cane you, Bob Roberts," said the ensign, slowly.

"Of course you can't, old man. But there, don't you worry; that kris
wasn't poisoned, or you'd feel very different to what you do now."

"Think so?"

"Sure of it."

"How do you know?" said Tom Long, peevishly. "You were never wounded by
a poisoned weapon."

"No, but I've seen somebody else, and watched him."

"What was he wounded with?"

"Serpent's tooth," said Bob; "Privat