When the judges had taken their seats a couple of youths were told off to pick up the lances and restore them to the combatants. Amai Njawong then gave the signal to commence. The first throw effected nothing and being wide of the mark was received with a howl of disapprobation. The second and third were better aimed, but the fourth was fatally decisive. Struck full in the chest the accused instantly dropped dead, while the accuser at the same moment also received his death blow. The weapon of his opponent had struck him at the side of the neck and severed the carotid artery. He survived a few minutes only, dying from hæmorrhage. The president hereupon declared that their deities had interposed to prevent a verdict in order that the matter might remain a secret forever. He ordered the bodies to be delivered to their relatives for the usual burial ceremonies and shortly afterwards the titih was heard from two sides of the kotta. Deeply moved by these strange scenes the Europeans sought their room, where for some time they remained wrapt in deep silence. At last La Cueille, like one trying to escape from a nightmare, cried out: “What a queer lot we have come among!” It seemed to break the spell and lift the veil of gloom from all the others. “So we have,” Johannes answered, “and we are always booked for the best seats in order that we may thoroughly enjoy the performance. And yet we dare not interfere.” “I should think not,” Schlickeisen added. “Suppose they should place us in similar cages?” “Or make us dip our fingers in boiling rosin?” said Wienersdorf. “Yes,” Johannes added warningly. “Even Hamadoe would not hesitate to start an action for breach of promise.” “And then good-bye to your finger,” Schlickeisen smiled at the Walloon, for he too, like Wienersdorf, had been obliged to be betrothed to a Dayak maiden. The Walloon looked wistfully at his index as if he already felt the burning pain. “That is awkward,” he muttered. “A man may now and then change his mind.” “So you may, but mind your finger; a basin of that rosin is far from nice.” “I thank you for your advice,” said La Cueille; “I will mind my finger. But there is much that I cannot understand and am anxious to know more about.” “What may that be?” Johannes asked. “Three of them dipped their fingers in the rosin, didn’t they? Now suppose to-morrow morning they find two, or even all of them with burnt fingers?” “Oh, holy simplicity!” Johannes burst out. “Well this is rich! All three, ha, ha, ha! That would prove trying to the wisdom of King Solomon. Ha, ha, ha!” and Johannes laughed heartily. “What are you laughing at?” the Walloon asked angrily. “I cannot make it out. Three men have dipped their fingers in that molten rosin; now what could be more natural than to find the whole three of them burnt? But at all events tell us the cause of your laughter; perhaps we may join you.” “You are a donkey.”