On the following day gold washing was resumed, as our adventurers were anxious to collect as much of the precious metal as they possibly could. They had discovered that there would be no difficulties of transport, the faithful Harimaoung Boekit having volunteered to conduct them under the safeguard of thirty Poenans to the Sarawak frontiers. Wienersdorf and his companions gratefully accepted this assistance and made their preparations accordingly. One morning when busy at kotta Rangan Hanoengoh preparing ammunition, La Cueille thought he would make some cartridges. They would, he thought, be handier for the use of the Poenans, besides being less dangerous and less wasteful. But in order to make cartridges he must have paper, a luxury not easily found in a Dayak kotta of mid-Borneo. He talked the matter over with Harimaoung Boekit, showing him at the same time one of his cartridges. As soon as the Poenan comprehended what was needed he went indoors and returned with a pile of old books. Most of them proved to be Bibles, printed in the Dayak language, which are largely distributed over the interior of Borneo, though none of the natives know how to read. Among these books, however, the Walloon found a large MS. folio in a most imperfect condition. The volume now consisted principally of blank leaves. Those which had been written upon were torn and battered. There was no title-page to indicate who was the author or owner. While turning over the leaves his attention was drawn to a page half of which was wanting, which however bore these words: “Oct. 14, 1824. “I have found that gold appears here as in other districts, in layers—separated from each other according to the formation of the ground, so that in one spot one might meet with a real treasure, while in its immediate neighborhood nothing would be found. The sand containing the gold generally lies upon a layer of light yellow clay and is covered with a darker bituminous clay. The gold dust originates from the friction of the nuggets and laminæ against each other, or against stones, while they are being borne along by the wild rush of the waters. Real mines in which the layers—” At this point the page had been torn and the remainder was wanting. “What a pity,” sighed the Walloon. He turned over the page and suddenly his attention was again arrested. “By Jove, this is interesting, I must read it.”