flashed
angrily wherever it was disturbed by the steamer, or the startled fish,
that dashed away on every side as they swiftly ran on towards the land
of swamp and jungle, of nipah and betel palm, where the rivers were
bordered by mangroves, the home of the crocodile; a land where the
night's conversation had roused up thoughts of its being perhaps the
burial-place of many a one of the brave hearts throbbing within the
timbers of that stout ship--hearts that were to play active parts in the
adventurous scenes to come.

CHAPTER THREE.

DOCTOR BOLTER CURES ONE PATIENT, AND IS LEFT WITH ANOTHER.

"Is that Parang, that dim light out yonder, captain?" said the major,
pointing to what looked like a cloud touching the water.

"Oh, no," was the reply. "That is part of Sumatra. Our destination
lies off the other bow, due east from where we are lying now."

It was a glorious morning, and the sun at that early hour had not yet
attained to its greater power. The ladies were on deck, enjoying the
morning air; the soldiers were having morning parade, and looked clean
and smart in their white clothes and puggarees. The sailors were giving
the last touches to brass rails and cabin windows, and were coiling
ropes into neat rings; and altogether the deck of the "Startler," with
its burnished guns, presented a bright and animated spectacle, every one
seeming to have some business on hand.

There was a little bit bustle about the steerage ladder, where four
sailors were hauling a sick man up on deck; and as soon as they had him
lying in the sunshine upon a mattress, the doctor bustled up--Bob
Roberts, seeing Ensign Long at hand, going up and looking on, after the
two youths had exchanged a short distant nod.

"Well, Sim," said the doctor, briskly, "how are you this morning?"

"Very--very bad, sir," replied the invalid, a big bony-faced man, who
looked very yellow.

"Put out your tongue," said the doctor.

Private Sim put out such an enormously long tongue that Bob Roberts gave
his trousers a hitch, and made believe to haul it forth by the yard,
very much to the ensign's disgust.

"That'll do," said the doctor, feeling the patient's pulse, and then
dropping the hand, "Now what am I to prescribe for you, Sim, eh? You
feel a terrible sense of sinking, don't you?"

"Yes, sir; terrible."

"As if you needed strengthening food?"

"Yes, sir."

"And some kind of stimulating drink--say wine?"

"Yes, sir," said the patie