The Kayans are a terrible people, and might cut off all our heads before we know where we are.” I laughed lightly, although feeling somewhat upset, and finished my evening walk. The next day, two or three Kayan chiefs came and asked for a sum of money which they knew was kept at the Fort, in order, as they said, that they might buy provisions and follow the Rajah. I again told them they were not to follow the Rajah and that I should not give them any money. Every day the chiefs came on the same errand, requesting money and permission to move. Personally, I was surprised they did not move, because nothing I could do would have prevented them. Tunku Ismael said they feared me, and he was sure the course we were taking was the only one to prevent disturbances in the country. These Kayans were a great nuisance in Simanggang. They went about flourishing their spears and swords, frightening the shop-keepers and agriculturists into providing them with food. Indeed, the situation was daily becoming more alarming, and the interviews between the intruders and myself became more and more stormy, until one afternoon, when they had been in the neighbourhood for ten or twelve days, they became almost unmanageable. “We must have money,” they said, “and we must follow the Rajah, and we do not care what anyone says.” Tunku Ismael and I hardly knew what to do, when a bright thought struck me. I knew these people liked long speeches, discussions, councils of war, etc., and attached great importance to dreams; so putting on a very grave expression, I said, “Tama Paran and you all who are his followers, listen to my words. You are not to go up river, and you are not to have money, because the Rajah would not wish it. But as I see there is a strong will among you to do what you should not do, at any rate, stay here over to-morrow; for to-morrow is a particular date I have fixed within myself, having last night had a dream. To-morrow I will tell you about that dream, and I will make you understand my reasons for wishing you to do as I tell you.” “And if we go to-day, what will you do?” inquired Tama Paran. I pointed to the guns--with, I hope, a magnificent gesture. “If you disobey my orders, the medicine from those guns will swamp every boat of yours in the river.” With those words, I got up and dismissed them, after they had promised to come and hear my speech the next day. Tunku Ismael gently remarked: “But we do not know how to fire the guns.” “No,” I said; “that does not matter; they think we know, and after all that is the chief thing!”