to punch his head."

"No, I can't agree to that," said Tom, thoughtfully, "because we could
not settle who was in the wrong."

"Then we'd punch one another's heads," said Bob; "but never mind about
that. Look here."

Ensign Long undid a few more buttons, of which he had a great many down
the front of his mess waistcoat, just like a row of gold-coated pills,
and then he proceeded to _look there_, that is to say mentally, at what
his companion had to say.

"Do you know that young Malay chap, who came on board yesterday with his
father, the Bang-the-gong, or Tumongong, or whatever he calls himself?"

"Yes, I saw him; he came afterwards to the fort, and was shown round."

"Didn't you speak to him?"

"Not I. Don't care much for these niggers."

"Oh! but he's no end of a good chap," said Bob. "He can't help being
brown. I took him down to the gun-room, and we smoked and talked; he
can speak English like fun."

"Indeed!"

"Yes, indeed; and I tell you what it is, he's worth knowing. He's quite
a prince, and as jolly as can be. He says there's out-and-out shooting
in the jungle, and if we'll go ashore and have a turn with him, he'll
take us where we can have a regular good day."

"What does the young savage shoot with," said Long, disdainfully, "a bow
and arrow?"

"Bow and arrow be hanged! Why, don't I tell you he is quite a prince?
and he's regularly English in his ways. Some one made him a present of
a Purdey breechloader, and he uses Eley cartridges. What do you think
of that?"

"Very disgusting that men should take to such adjuncts to civilisation
before they leave off wearing those savage plaid petticoats."

"I believe they are a tribe of Scotsmen, who came out here in the year
one and turned brown," said Bob, laughing. "Those sarongs are just like
kilts."

"Yes," said Tom Long, "and the krises are just the same as dirks."

"Well, bother all that!" cried Bob. "I told him we'd both come
to-morrow, and bring guns, and he's going to get some prog, and
half-a-dozen beaters; and we'll have a jolly day."

"But," said Tom Long, dropping his official ways, and speaking
excitedly, "he didn't ask me!"

"He said he'd be delighted to know you. He likes Englishmen."

"But we can't get leave."

"Can't we?" cried Bob. "I can. If the skipper says no, I think I can
work him round; and I'm sure you can manage it. Look here, you ask
Doctor Bolter to manage it for you, and say we'll bring him all the
s