and wrestling, it was lost to sight. For the first weeks of my stay in Simanggang, the flocks of egrets and the Bore were the two great attractions of the place. As I was seated at breakfast one morning, a perspiring Dyak, frightened and incoherent, found his way to my room and fell at my feet. Ima and Dalima were with me, and Dalima, understanding the Dyak language, translated the man’s words to me. “The Rajah is killed,” he said. “All are dead, and I go home.” I looked at the man and saw his complexion was of a pale greenish brown, like that of some people when terrified or ill, and I imagined he must be of an hysterical nature. I sent for Tunku Ismael, who was then having his breakfast at his home in the village. The refugee sat on the floor, dressed in a bark waist-cloth and wearing a dirty cotton handkerchief round his head. I told him not to move, when he gave vent to sighs and grunts, and remained speechless. When Tunku Ismael arrived, he shook hands with me, and took his seat cross-legged on a sofa opposite me near the wall. He did not speak, but sat with his eyes cast down and his hands palms downwards on his knees. “Tell me, Tunku,” I said, “what is the meaning of this? This man says the Rajah and his followers are killed. He is a liar, is he not?” “Bohong benar” (truly a liar), the Tunku replied. “It is impossible such a thing could have happened and he the only survivor.” “You are a liar,” said Tunku Ismael, turning to the man, who had become greener than ever. “You have left the force because you are afraid.” Another grunt and contraction of the throat from the man on the floor. “Dead, all dead,” he repeated, “the Rajah too, and the enemy will be here to-morrow.” “All lies,” Tunku Ismael assured me, and once more turning to the man, he said, “Get out of this, and never let me see you again.” With that the man slowly departed, left the Fort, and to my knowledge was never again seen or heard of. I asked Tunku Ismael why the man should have told this story. The Tunku thought he must have become terrified and run away from the force. “Let him go in peace,” he added, “a coward like that is better out of the Rajah’s bala” (force). No more attention was paid to this rumour than to the buzzing of a mosquito, and we soon forgot all about it.