The Mark of the Golden Dragon by Louis A. Meyer Read Free Book Online Page B

entangled that he cannot move, then the simple trident becomes very deadly. You and your friends do have tridents, don't you, for the spearing of fish?"
    "Yes," he says, hope beginning to dawn in his eyes.
    "And nets ... small nets?"
    "Yes, our small, round cast nets that we fling over schools of fish that swim close to shore."
    "The badmash Ohnmar and his men will be close to shore," I say with a level gaze at Arun's dark eyes.
    He stands up and says to the little girl, who has been avidly hanging about, "Naing! Go get Nanda, Dara, and Chankrisna!"
    The girl flies out the door and soon after, three young men slip into the hut and crouch about the hearth.
    When all are settled, I begin to recite:
Yes, these special kind of Roman gladiators were called the Retiarii, and they fought strong armored swordsmen while they themselves were small, quick, and quite naked—no helmets, no armor, nothing but their nets, their tridents ... and their quickness and bravery...
    They all sit rapt and are soon firm in their resolve...
     
    "It is settled, then," I say. "Give to me one of your fine cast nets and I shall make the first move. Watch for my signal. Sleep well, for tomorrow a new day will dawn."
    As all fade off into the night, I wonder if they will follow through. I do not know, but tomorrow we shall certainly see.
    For tonight, Ravi and I get to curl up together in a corner of the dwelling, protected, at least, from tigers.
    And thank you, Mr. Yale, for your fine lectures on Ancient Rome, which so many of us at the Lawson Peabody thought were ever so boring...

Chapter 8
     
    It had been decided last night, by myself and my fellow conspirators, that we would make our move in the afternoon, when the boats returned for the day, since then all the fishermen would be on the beach at once, unlike the morning, when the boats went out at irregular intervals.
    Waiting for the fishing fleet to come back, I practice with the cast net I was given. The girl Naing has come along to teach me, all the boys of the village—those able to walk at least—being out with their dads on the ocean. She is very good at it, making the thing soar like an opening flower in the bright morning air. I believe that she has taken a bit of a shine to Ravi, who does not seem to have noticed.
    To make the thing work, the net is arranged in neat folds and laid across the left arm, the lead weights at the bottom hanging down. A long thin line goes from the bottom of the net to the top of the net for gathering it up after it is thrown. The lower edge is picked up and placed between the teeth. One's body twists at the waist to fling it, hoping for the best. My first few tries at casting are pathetic, but I get the hang of it after a while.

    After practicing on the open beach for a while, I wade into the water to try. The net flies out in a nice but not perfect circle and sinks. I even catch a few minnows. What a marvelous thing! I decide that I shall have to equip each of Faber Shipping's watercraft with some of these, should the opportunity arise and I ever get back to that side of the world.
    This done, we wait for the fleet to return.
     
    I slap the heavy turnbuckle into the palm of my hand, the buckle that Ravi and I had previously taken along with a part of the sail from the broken foremast. I do not want to bring it down on anybody's head, but it is comforting to have it handy. Although the plan does not call for its use, I carry it as backup in case things go wrong, as they so often do. Ravi, seeing me handle the deadly thing, expresses doubt.
    "Sweet Missy plans something nasty? Ravi hopes not."
    "Look, lad," I reply. "We've got to have a boat for lots of reasons, and I mean to get us one. Number one, we can't travel overland because of those big toothy striped devils out there in the woods. Moreover, we've got many rivers to cross on our way northward, and make our way we must." I pause as I stand to look out over the ocean, once again to see nothing. Then I