Then it struck me as peculiar that a monkey, after all the evidence of fright we
had so lately witnessed, should seek a hiding-place that must be within easy
reach of its greatest enemy, the boa-constrictor.
Aboo Din had aroused himself, and was looking intently in the same direction.
Before I could take a step toward the tree he had leaped to his feet, and was
bounding across the little space, shouting, “Baboo! Baboo!”
The small brown face instantly disappeared, and we were left staring blankly at a
dark opening into the heart of the woody maze. Then we heard the small, well-
known voice of Baboo:—
“Tabek (greeting), Tuan! Greeting, Aboo Din! Tuan Consul no whip, Baboo
come out.”
Aboo Din ran his long, naked arm into the opening in pursuit of his first-born—
the audacious boy who would make terms with his white master!
“Is it not enough before Allah that this son should cause me, a Hadji, to curse
daily, but now he must bewitch tigers and dictate terms to the Tuan and to me,
his father? He shall feel the strength of my wrist; I will—O Allah!”
Aboo snatched forth his arm with a howl of pain. One of his fingers was
bleeding profusely, and the marks of tiny teeth showed plainly where Baboo had
closed them on the offending hand.
“Biak, Baboo, mari!” (Good, come forth!) I said.
First the round, soft face of the small miscreant appeared; then the head, and
then the naked little body. Aboo Din grasped him in his arms, regardless of his
former threats, or of the blood that was flowing from his wounds. Then, amid
caresses and promises to Allah to kill fire-fighting cocks, the father hugged and
kissed Baboo until he cried out with pain.
After each Malay had taken the little fellow in his arms, I turned to Baboo and
said, while I tried to be severe,—
“Baboo, where is tiger?”