ADVENTURE ON THE HIGHWAY 213 



continued our wanderings beyond Klong Sua Mak. At 

 the crisis of the conflict a howling fellow, swinging 

 a great knife, bounded suddenly into the craft. James 

 caught him by an arm and a leg. A glistening brown 

 body flashed high in the air, there sounded one long- 

 drawn shriek, and the bold patriot sank in the murky 

 water some distance behind us. When he came again 

 to the surface, unarmed, we had pushed off from the 

 shore. 



' Damn niggers ! ' gro,wled the Australian, catching 

 up a paddle. * Serve 'em right if we kept their bloody 

 old hollow log and went down to Bangkok in her. 

 What do you say? ' he cried. ' My feet are nothing but 

 two blisters.* 



For answer I swung the craft half round, and we 

 glided out into the Menam. A boatload of natives 

 put out behind us, but instead of following in our 

 wake they paddled across the river and down the oppo- 

 site bank. We stretched out in the bottom of the dug- 

 out, and drifting with the current, let them outstrip us. 

 Far down the stream they turned in at a groove, above 

 which rose a white building. I dozed a moment, and 

 then sat up suddenly with a shout. The boatload had 

 pushed off again, and behind them came a second 

 canoe, bearing six khaki -clad soldiers, armed with 

 muskets. The white building was a military post, and a 

 part of the redoubtable Siamese army was on our trail. 



' Swing her ashore ! ' cried James, grasping his 

 paddle. ' No naval battles in mine.' 



The dug-out grounded on the sloping bank. Between 

 the jungle and the water's edge was a narrow, open 

 space. Adjusting our ' swag,' we set off down the 

 bank at an easy pace. The ' wild men ' beached their 



