"Thank you, sir," said Tom, trying hard to restrain his eagerness. "Might I have a run to-morrow? I have felt very languid to-day." "To be sure. I'll see the major, and get leave of absence for you. Be careful, though. Don't overheat yourself; and mind and not get into any scrape with the Malays." "I'll mind, sir," said Tom. "That's right. Be very careful not to spoil the plumage of the birds. You can make a Malay boy carry them tied by the beaks to a stick. Stop a minute; as you are here, you may as well cut up these cards for me in thin strips. I'll go and ask the major the while." Tom set to work at the cards with a pair of scissors, and the doctor donned his undress coat, went out and returned with the requisite permission. "By the way, look here, Long; if you'll promise to be very careful, I'll lend you my double gun." "I'll take the greatest care of it, sir," was the reply. "Good! There it is; so now be off; and to-morrow night I shall expect a nice lot of specimens to skin." So Tom Long went off with the gun, and the doctor helped to turn the residency into an abode where danger usurped the place of safety, and peace was to be succeeded by the horrors of war. CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR. A JAUNT IN THE JUNGLE, WITH AN AWKWARD END. Tom Long rather overslept himself, but it was pretty early when he started from his quarters, to encounter Captain Smithers soon after, looking anxious and annoyed. He nodded shortly, and the young ensign went on through what was quite a wilderness of beauty, to meet, next, Rachel Linton and Mary Sinclair, who had been flower-gathering, and who stopped for a few minutes' conversation with him, the former nearly spoiling the expedition, by turning the foolish youth's thoughts in quite a contrary direction from collecting or shooting. But Rachel Linton quietly wished him success, and Tom went off telling himself that it would look foolish if he did not go. He had not far to go to the landing-place now; but in the little space close by the resident's garden he encountered Private Gray, who saluted him, and sent Tom on thinking that he wished he was as old, and good-looking, and as manly, as the young soldier he had just passed. And then he felt very miserable and dejected, and wished he was anything but what he was, until he saw Bob Roberts, sitting in the "Startler's" dinghy by the landing-place, and forgot all about everything but the shooting excursion. "Come along! You are a chap," shouted Bob. "I've been waiting over half an hour." "Met the ladies," said Tom, "and was obliged to speak." "Oh, you met the ladies, did you?" said Bob, looking at him suspiciously. "Well, never mind; jump aboard. Got plenty of cartridges?" "Yes, heaps; and some food too." "So have I," cried Bob. "Now, then, pull away, Dick. Set us ashore under those trees. Hooray, Tom; look! There's young Bang-gong there, waiting with a couple of niggers."