inished in size as to appear like a child or a
pigmy, and the more fearful to them who could not convince themselves of
the security of the slender stair upon which he was standing. They were
half expecting that, at any moment, one of the pegs would give way, and
precipitate the poor fellow to the earth, a crushed and shapeless mass!
It was just as when some courageous workman in a manufacturing town--
bricklayer or carpenter--ascends to the top of one of its tall factory
chimneys, to repair some damage done by fire-crack or lightning, and the
whole populace of the place rushes out of doors, to look up at the
strange spectacle, and admire the daring individual, while trembling in
fear for his fate.
So stood the little party under the tall durion-tree, regarding the
ascent of Saloo.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN.
SOMETHING SHARP.
The Malay had ascended, as already said, to within ten or twelve feet
from the lower limbs of the tree, and was still engaged driving in his
pegs and binding on the upright bamboo to continue his ascent, when all
at once he was seen to start and abruptly suspend operations. At the
same time an exclamation escaped his lips, in a low tone, but seemingly
in accents of alarm.
They all looked up apprehensively, and also started away from the tree;
for they expected to see him come tumbling down in their midst. But no;
he was still standing firm upon the last made round of the ladder, and
in an erect attitude, as if he had no fear of falling. With one hand he
held the axe, the other gently grasping the upright bamboo that served
him for a support. Instead of looking down to them, to call out or
claim their assistance, they saw that his eyes were turned upward and
fixed, as if on some object directly over his head. It did not appear
to be among the branches of the durion, but as if in the trunk of the
tree; and in the interval of silence that succeeded his first quick
exclamation, they could hear a hissing sound, such as might proceed from
the throat of a goose when some stranger intrudes upon the domain of the
farmyard. As it was carried down the smooth stem of the durion, which
acted as a conductor, the spectators underneath guessed it was not a
goose, but some creature of a less innocent kind.
"A snake, be japers!" was the conjecture that dropped from the
ship-carpenter's lips, while the same thought occurred simultaneously to
the others; for they could think of no living thing, other th
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