craving for one breath of fresh air grew and grew and gathered strength, until it
became an overmastering longing that day and night cried out to be satisfied. At
last he could restrain the desire no longer, and, reckless of the consequences, he
told the Pĕr-tanda that, if he could be taken to a place a day's journey up the
river, he could set his hand upon the missing kris which he had hidden there. He
was perfectly aware that the kris was not, and never had been, buried in that
place, for he knew as little of it as the Pĕr-tanda himself. He could forsee that
his failure to find it would be followed by worse tortures, but he heeded not. He
would breathe the free fresh air once more, would look again up on the clear
blue vault of heaven overhead, would hear the murmur of running water, the
sighing of the wind through the fruit trees, and would see, smell, hear, and feel,
all the sights, the scents, the sounds, and the surroundings that he loved and
longed for so keenly.
On a certain day he was taken up river, to the place he had named, but the
stinking reek of the cell seemed to cling about him, and the fresh air was to him
made foul by it. The search was fruitless of course, he was beaten by the
boatmen, who had had their toil for nothing, and sore and bleeding he was
placed once more in his hated cage, with the added pain of heavy irons to
complete his sufferings. An iron collar was riveted about his neck, and attached
by heavy links to chains passed about his waist, and to rings around his ankles.
The fetters galled him, prevented him from lying at ease in any attitude, and
doubled the number of his bed-sores. The filthy bloated flies buzzed around him
now in larger numbers, feasting horribly on his rottenness, and he himself was
sunk in stupid, wide-eyed despair.
A Chinese lunatic had been placed in the vacant cage on his left, a poor mindless
wretch, who cried out to all who visited the prison, that he had become a
Muhammadan, vainly hoping thereby to meet with some small pity from the
worshippers of Allah, the Merciful, the Compassionate. The bestial habits of this
wretched creature, whose madness was intensified by his misery, and by his
surroundings, made Talib's life more keenly horrible than ever; but he himself
was now fast sinking into the stolid, animal indifference of his right-hand
neighbour. I saw him, exactly as I have described him, some two years ago, and,
unless kindly death has set him free, he has now, I do not doubt, reached the
happy condition of kâleh.
If the men suffer thus, what are the pains endured by tender women and by little
children? It makes one sick to think of it! And yet, all these things happened and
are happening to-day, within shouting distance of Singapore, with its churches,