In such conversation was the time passed during the weary days of waiting. On the second day after the new moon Baba Poetjieng arrived at the fort. He pretended that his visit was to fetch away the last of the dried fish, which concluded his contract with Johannes, but his true object was to make final arrangements and to fix the hour for departure. The time was favorable. A native had just died of cholera and no one would undertake to bury him except the three Dayaks who were to accompany the deserters. The tide would continue to flow until half-past ten and would be followed by a rapid ebb. All chances were therefore in their favor. As evening fell the four allies crept into the hut of Johannes, where they remained concealed until it was quite dark. They then stole out one by one, and passing behind the shrubs which lined the banks of the river, they reached the kampong unobserved and took their places in the canoe which was to carry the deceased to her last resting-place. About ten the coffin was taken to the boat, and at eleven o’clock came the priestesses who were to chant the hymns for the repose of the dead. The ebb tide had already commenced when they arrived; the two canoes therefore pulled away immediately from the landing-stage and passed the fort, with the results already known. CHAPTER III. A DRUNKEN MAN’S TALK—ON THE SEA—JOHANNES UP A TREE—UP THE KAHAJAN—AN ÆOLIAN HARP—THE SOENGEI TROESSAN—IN THE DAHASAN—A WOOD SPECTRE—A MOSQUITO CHARM—FURTHER PLANS—LOOK OUT FOR YOUR HEAD—SUITS OF BLACK.