His companions with several Dayaks approached, but the miscreants simply burst out into hearty laughter. Before the Walloon could get any answer to his appeal for help he passed his hand down his neck and felt some slimy, smooth objects from which he suddenly withdrew his fingers. “What is this?” he asked nervously. “Halamantek,” was the phlegmatic reply of one of the Dayaks. “Halamantek! what do they mean?” “Don’t make yourself ridiculous,” Johannes grinned. “Halamantek are only forest-leeches and they will rid you of some superfluous Walloon blood.” A sigh of relief escaped the wounded man. On examination it proved that during their stampede through a thick wood not only the Walloon, but all of the company had been attacked by these little reptiles. He, however, from some unaccountable cause had received a double share of their favors. “The forest-leech,” Johannes explained, “is a reptile strongly resembling a thick gray thread about the length of a finger. It inhabits the lower branches of trees and from there attacks its prey, either man or beast. It creeps in some crevice of the skin or dress and greedily begins its meal. Its bite is not painful at first, resembling rather a sensation of itching, but as soon as it has sucked itself full the irritation becomes intense.” “That is exactly what I felt,” the Walloon murmured. In the meantime Moendoet had taken a handful of tobacco, infused it for a couple of minutes in some boiling water and with the lotion thus formed bathed the neck of her sweetheart. The leeches dropped off and their wounds soon healed, to the great satisfaction of the Walloon. “Henceforth we shall often be plagued with these pests,” Johannes said, “and I think it will be wise to have some tobacco water ready in our flasks for possible emergencies.” “Shall we have to pass many cataracts?” Wienersdorf enquired. “A great many; perhaps four to-morrow. But why this question?” “Because we shall then have to wash ourselves four times at least with this tobacco sauce. We shall be perfumed like the bowl of a German pipe.” “Very likely,” Johannes laughed, “but fortunately we don’t want to make our entrée de salon, or perhaps you are anxious lest Hamadoe will be disgusted with you? Don’t feel alarmed, she is quite accustomed to tobacco.” By the time the cable had been drawn in, the sun had also finished his course and unceremoniously disappeared in the west behind the forest. Our men and especially the Dayaks and Poenans had had a fatiguing day and longed for some rest. They consequently resolved to pass the night in the immediate neighborhood. The rangkans were tied to a projecting tree, leaving them room enough to float in mid-stream. The women and children were lodged within them, ten of the men occupying one at each end as a safeguard. One of the men in each canoe was told off to mount guard, while the others of the crew were divided into two equal watches, posted along the banks of the river opposite the rangkans.