On our arrival we found the rajah where we left him, and all the chief men and warriors assembled. Refreshments had been prepared for us, and we again swallowed various mysterious confections, which, as I before observed, would have been very good if we had been hungry. As soon as the eatables had been despatched, we lighted our cheroots, and having, by a dexterous and unperceived application out of a brandy bottle, succeeded in changing the rajah's lemonade into excellent punch, we smoked and drank until the rajah requested to know if we were ready to witness the promised war dance. Having expressed our wishes in the affirmative, the music struck up; it consisted of gongs and tom-toms. The Malay gong, which the Dyaks also make use of, is like the Javanese, thick with a broad rim, and very different from the gong of the Chinese. Instead of the clanging noise of the latter, it gives out a muffled sound of a deep tone. The gong and tom-tom are used by the Dyaks and Malays in war, and for signals at night, and the Dyaks procure them from the Malays. I said that the music struck up, for, rude as the instruments were, they modulate the sound, and keep time so admirably, that it was any thing but inharmonious. A space was now cleared in the centre of the house, and two of the oldest warriors stepped into it. They were dressed in turbans, long loose jackets, sashes round their waists descending to their feet, and small bells were attached to their ankles. They commenced by first shaking hands with the rajah, and then with all the Europeans present, thereby giving us to understand, as was explained to us, that the dance was to be considered only as a spectacle, and not to be taken in its literal sense, as preparatory to an attack upon us, a view of the case in which we fully coincided with them. [Illustration: WAR DANCE OF THE DYAKS. F. M. DELT. M. N. HANHART LITH. PRINTERS]