The Colonel thought that the kotta ought to be more closely invested. Meanwhile he proposed to hasten to Bandjermasin, report the events and return in a steamer with a reinforcement of soldiers to punish this obstinate kotta. Both Dayak chiefs listened to him with much consternation. That the Colonel could leave them behind was beyond their conception and they could scarcely find words to remonstrate. Tomonggong Nikodemus asked, with a faltering voice: “And how long will you be away?” “You may expect me back again in nine, or at most, in ten days.” “It is not to be thought of, sir!” was the solemn reply of Nikodemus. “When you return you will find us all killed.” “But, Tomonggong!” “I am in earnest, sir! Not a night will pass without our being attacked, and in those constant raids we shall be exposed to terrible losses. And when finally we are exhausted by these daily skirmishes and by nightly watchings, the great battle will be fought which will annihilate us altogether.” “But are you not three to one, Tomonggong?” was the bitter reproach of the Colonel. “That means nothing against a well-entrenched army. And how long will our superiority in number continue after the tribes of the upper country shall have joined them?” “But you forget that in ten days I will be here with a force sufficiently large to deal with all the tribes of Borneo.” “It will be too late then, sir!” “Then what are we to do, Tomonggong?” the Colonel said, impatiently. “Nothing but to let us go with you and return with you if necessary.” “And in the meantime we allow the deserters to escape,” was the bitter reply. “Very possible, sir! but rest assured they will escape just the same when you go away and leave us here.” “But they are caged like mice.” “Quite so, sir! But we are unable to keep the mice in their trap; they can leave it whenever they choose.” Although convinced of the correctness of Tomonggong’s argument, the Colonel would not yield. For a moment he thought of remaining himself and of sending one of the chiefs to Bandjermasin. But knowing that the wavering character of the native would certainly involve a considerable loss of time, and that at headquarters the authorities would demand and expect the fullest information, he abandoned the idea. He was about to try once more to persuade the Tomonggongs to remain when one of the followers of the Chief of Kwala Kapoeas approached hurriedly and whispered something into the ear of the old gentleman. “As I thought,” the latter exclaimed, “the men of Kwala Kapoeas recognized Harimaoung Boekit and his Poenans during the last fight. They are terribly frightened and wish to leave. Most of them are already preparing their canoes. I must go and see what it all means.” “We will join you,” said the Colonel and Tomonggong Patti Singa Djaja.