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Updated: June 20, 2025
They were swarthy-looking savages, in plaid sarongs of bright colours, these being twisted tightly about their waists, and in the band thus formed each had a kris stuck, above which the man's dark naked body glistened in the sun.
Yachting in the Malacca Straits A Tropic Dream The Rajah Moussa Tiger Stories A Grand Excitement A "Man-Eating Kris" A Royal Residence A Council of State The Sultan's Attendants The "Light of the Harem" The Sultan's Offering I was glad to get up at sunrise, when the whole heaven was flooded with color and glory, and the lingering mists which lay here and there over the jungle gleamed like silver.
He did not know that Kris Kringle fully expected an ambush, nor that two would stand a better chance to get through and out-wit the savages than would half a dozen of them. The pair had approached nearly to the camp, for which the guide was heading, when suddenly a hand was laid on the boy's arm in a firm grip. Tad knew the guide had seen or heard something. "What is it?" "There!"
I could have stayed there a month staring about me at the varied scenes in the bright sunshine, where hundreds of Chinamen in their blue cotton loose clothes and thick-soled shoes were mingled with dark-looking Hindoostanees, Cingalese, and thick-lipped, flat-nosed, fierce-looking Malays, every man in a gay silk or cotton sarong or kilt, made in plaids of many colours and with the awkward-looking, dangerous kris stuck at the waist.
Kris Kringle ducked with amazing quickness. Crawling back into the cave, he reached for his own rifle and then sought the opening, taking good care not to expose himself to the fire of the unseen enemy. Stacy, on his part, had lost no time in getting to a place of safety inside, though he was prudent enough to crawl instead of getting up and walking in." "What does this mean?
The latter whipped his kris out, too, and it would have gone ill with To’ Mûda Long, for Bâyan was a strong man and knew the use of his weapon, had not the older men, who were present, interfered to separate the combatants.
"I mean, no sticking that kris of yours into a fellow on the sly." "Nonsense! What bosh!" cried the young Malay. "Bosh, eh?" said Bob, laughing. "I say, Master Ali, you are civilised, and no mistake. It is only our very educated people who say Bosh!" "You took the word from us," said the young Malay. "Bosh is good eastern language, and means nothing." "I've heard it was Turkish," said Bob, drily.
"Got a kris through his shoulder, and thought it was poisoned." "What, the kris? Oh, no. That is nonsense. Our people don't poison their krises and limbings. The Sakais poison their arrows." "The whiches?" said Bob. "The Sakais the wild people of the hills and jungle. Naked wear no clothes." "Yes," said Bob drily. "I knew naked meant wearing no clothes.
Kris Kringle was silent for a moment. "I need a little change of scene," he smiled. "How would you like to have me take the trail with you for a week or so?" "Would you?" glowed the Professor, half rising from his chair. "I think I might." "Hurrah!" cried the Pony Riders enthusiastically. "That will be fine." "Of course, you understand that I expect no pay.
And then a thrill ran through him, for a couple of his captors seized him, and in the dim green light of the place, with a few thin pencils of sunshine striking straight through like silver threads from roof to floor, he saw a third man draw his deadly kris.
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