The travellers arrived under the steep banks of this sharply-curved soengei. They had been unobserved, and from behind the thick shrubs growing along the banks were able to watch the movements of the enemy. After Johannes had studied the position for a moment, he beckoned Harimaoung Boekit to approach, pointed towards the thickly growing shrubbery in the distance, running very close to the rear of the assailants, and whispered something in his ear. The Poenan chief grinned, collected his followers, stepped ashore with them and disappeared behind the foliage which concealed the banks of the soengei. Johannes then called his companions together, selected about thirty armed Dayaks, including Dalim, and made straight for the Doessonese. Meanwhile the flank attack concerted with the Poenan chief was put into execution and threw the besiegers into confusion, and the whole band took to flight. In an incredibly short time the immense army which had besieged kotta Hamiak had been dispersed and driven into the forest. When the Doessonese had thus disappeared the warriors of our travelling company fraternized with the inhabitants of the kotta. The rangkans were brought forward and the women and children allowed to step on shore. The old drama of horror was again enacted. The men of the kotta, as well as the Dayaks of the rangkans and the Poenans of Harimaoung Boekit, busied themselves decapitating the fallen enemies, dead or wounded. The lives of some few whose injuries were not severe were provisionally spared; a more terrible fate awaited them, however. While disposing of the dead enemies by simply throwing them into the soengei, it was discovered that five Poenans and six Dayaks of the company had fallen, and that the Sirattese had lost four of their number. But what caused the utmost grief was the death of Amai Mawong, chief of the kotta Hamiak. He had always been a personal enemy of Tomonggong Soerapatti, and the attack just repelled was the outcome of Soerapatti’s undying hatred against him. The body of the beloved chief was carried inside the kotta and laid out for exhibition until the funeral could be solemnized. The Poenans and the Dayaks of the kotta Djangkan made the necessary preparations for burning the bodies of their companions on the following morning, a ceremony practised among some tribes whenever time and opportunity do not serve for the celebration of the customary funeral obsequies. Eight prisoners had been taken and these were now secured in cages, fettered with strong irons, until the next sunrise should summon them to a horrible doom.