neither could he return home, but at any rate he consented to remain at Simanggang that evening. Tunku Ismael and I, with Sunok present, then held a council of war. We agreed it would never do to allow these Kayans to follow the Rajah, as they would probably endanger the safety of the country up river and frighten its inhabitants. We could see the fleet from the Fort, anchored near the Bazaar, and the Tunku estimated that the force numbered some six hundred men. He owned it would be somewhat difficult to keep them in order if the Rajah’s return was long delayed, but, at the same time, we intended to do our best. Tunku Ismael warned me not to walk out that evening along the Bazaar, because he feared that these Kayans, not being accustomed to white Ranees, might be disagreeable. I also felt a little apprehensive as to what my reception would be, but after thinking the matter well over, I came to the conclusion that if I did not take my usual walk, the women and children of the settlement would feel nervous, for, after all, it was unlikely the Kayans would do me any harm, for fear of the consequences when the Rajah returned. I therefore sallied forth that evening feeling a bit nervous, accompanied by the trembling octogenarian, Sunok, and the small dog Fury. I went along the Bazaar, and found the Chinamen standing outside their shops, who told me, in Malay, as I passed, that they wished very much those men would go away. The Kayans were cooking their rice, and were not at all friendly. They made no attempt to shake hands with me, and say “How do you do,” as they would have done under ordinary circumstances. They looked rather impertinently, I thought, at my humble procession. When I reached the end of the Bazaar and was about to cross the narrow plank of wood leading to the Malay settlement, I saw a big burly Kayan standing the other side of the plank with his legs straddled, almost daring me to pass. His arms and legs were tattooed, his ears were ornamented with wild boar’s tusks, his hair hung over his neck, cut square in the front, and he wore a little straw crown and a waist-cloth of bark. I got within two feet of the man, who gave a not very pleasant smile as Fury barked loudly. There he stood motionless. I turned to Sunok. “Remove that man,” I said, but Sunok weakly replied: “He is too strong, I can’t!” The situation was ludicrous. Had I turned back, it would have shown fear on my part, so I asked the man, in Malay, to get out of my way, but he remained as though he had not heard me. There was nothing left for me but to press forward. I walked slowly across the plank until my chin (I was taller than the Kayan) nearly touched his forehead. Still he did not move, so I stood as immovable as he, and waited. After a few seconds the man skulked off, and I went on my way. The Malay women had witnessed this incident from their gardens, and they rushed up to me saying: “Do take care, Rajah Ranee, and do not go out by yourself like this.