The harassing life they led must soon have worn them out without any attacks, for they could no longer pursue their ordinary occupations, or even fetch firewood or water without a strong-armed party, as the Dyaks hung about their houses, and infested every spot. It soon became a question of food, and they found they must either obtain it or retire across the frontier into Sambas. They therefore collected all their boats and made a foray eight miles down the river to Ledah Tanah, and there threw up a stockade in which they placed a garrison of two hundred and fifty picked men, under two of their most trusted leaders. They placed four guns in position to sweep the river, and, armed with the best of the Government’s muskets and rifles, they not only commanded the right and left-hand branches, but felt secure from a direct attack by the main river. Parties were then sent out to plunder the Dyak farmhouses, and one bolder than the rest attempted to scale the mountain of Serambo to destroy the Rajah’s country house; but the Dyaks barred the passage with stockades, and by rolling down rocks on the advancing party effectually defended their hill. These Chinese were very different from those we see in our British settlements. Many of them were half breeds, having Dyak mothers, and were as active in the jungle as the aborigines themselves. To check the Chinese forays, and afford assistance to the Land Dyaks, the Rajah sent up the Datu Bandhar with a small but select force to await his arrival below the Chinese stockade; but the gallant Bandhar, on being joined by the Datu Tumangong and Abang Buyong, and a few Sakarang Dyaks, dashed at the fort, surprised the garrison at dinner, and carried it without the loss of a man. The Chinese threw away their arms and fled into the jungle, to be pursued and slain by the Sakarang Dyaks. Stockades, guns, stores and boats were all captured, and what was of equal importance, the principal instigators of the rebellion were killed.