Two hymns were chanted, the object of which was to drive away all misfortunes. These finished, each of the company present, including the bride, took a large stick and, led by the priestesses, proceeded to beat with all possible force against the posts, pillars, walls and roof of the shed. All the other houses and buildings of the kotta were next visited in turn and the same ceremony repeated in order to disperse ghosts and spirits. The noise, as may be imagined, was deafening. The part taken by our Walloon, La Cueille, the pseudo Sheik, was truly comical. He had seized the branch of a tree and was beating about with it like a madman, making more noise than any twenty-five of the others. It amused the Dayaks to see the holy man so busily occupied, but an attentive observer might have remarked how carefully La Cueille managed to remain in the vicinity of one particular maid of honor, and how, while beating with his branch, he was steadily playing the gallant and trying to attract her notice. He was thus busily engaged when suddenly from every gun of the kotta there burst forth a terrific discharge. Our Sheik, almost dead with fright, turned a summersault, jumped up again, and followed by the laughter of the Dayaks fled toward the bastions where, as first artillerist of the fortification, he thought his presence might be needed. He there learned what had taken place. It was only Dalim firing blank cartridges in order to co-operate in the dispersion of malignant spirits. The pervading superstition is that evil spirits cannot endure noise and especially abominate the fumes of gunpowder, seeking a safe retreat as soon as they smell it. The mirth had not abated when the Sheik reappeared inside the shed, where the betrothed had resumed their original places, surrounded by their respective guards of honor. The priestesses now spread upon a mat in the centre of the shed all the offerings brought for presentation to the deities, which comprised seven full-grown hens, one egg, seven parcels made of pisang leaves and filled with boiled rice, seven joints of bamboo filled with raw rice, seven pieces of sugar-cane each a fathom long, besides pastry, confectionery, and fruits. The priestesses kindled two fires of green wood which emitted dense columns of smoke. Having finished all these preparations, they pronounced their incantations, the purport of which was to compel the King of the Antangs to convey the souls of these offerings, for the Dayaks believe that inanimate objects have souls, to the Radja ontong.