This was indeed a terrible blow to Johannes. In nervous haste he examined the tomoi and the whole of its limited extent, without discovering anything further. He therefore rapidly ascended the Oepon Batoe and informed his companions of their misfortune. They all received the news with the deepest consternation, but Wienersdorf especially, with tears in his eyes, lamented the sad fate of his friend and countryman. It was certainly possible that he had saved himself by taking to the water. He was an expert swimmer, Wienersdorf said; but Harimaoung Boekit pointed to the wild and boiling stream and suggested that no human being could possibly swim across that torrent without being crushed to atoms a hundred times over, against the sharp and jagged rocks visible everywhere around. A third idea to which the Europeans clung, was that he had been carried away alive. This last would involve a terrible fate. They knew by experience how the surrounding natives treated their prisoners of war. And when these Doessonese, who might be classed among the most cruel tribes of Borneo, should discover that their prisoner was a whiteface, what hope would remain to him? The idea alone was enough to terrify them. And yet Wienersdorf desperately stuck to this hypothesis. At least it left him and his friends the hope of being able to render some assistance—possibly to save the lost one. He therefore urged this opinion with all earnestness. Johannes also felt inclined to believe that. Schlickeisen had been taken prisoner, and true to his loyal nature he at once commenced to work for his deliverance. The first things to be determined were, which band of the enemy had captured him and whither he had been carried. Harimaoung proposed to start for soengei Miri by the overland route. He and Amai Kotong called their warriors together, provided them with an ample supply of rice and as soon as the sun disappeared beneath the horizon the little troop of Dayaks and Poenans, accompanied by three Europeans, silently descended the hill and marched towards the north. While descending La Cueille had ample opportunity to notice the terrible effect of his recent stratagem. Human bodies completely flattened out were seen buried in the deep and hard ruts made by the rolling blocks of stone. Here a fractured skull, there a ripped chest or gaping abdomen, further on dissevered hands and feet—everywhere blood. It was a fearful sight. Even the hardened senses of the Dayaks were moved, and with looks of horror the woodmen turned aside to hasten on their route. The path at the foot of the hill ran almost parallel to the Kahajan. They marched on unflaggingly that night and the whole of the following day, without discovering any trace of the enemy. At sunset they halted at a convenient spot to take a few hours rest, after which the march was resumed with renewed energy.