“Do let me have another thimble full,” the Walloon begged. “Patience, dear boy. The others must also have their turn. See how the Dayaks look; ah, they are such tipplers.” “From what do they distill this toeak?” asked Wienersdorf. “Toeak is made from rice,” Johannes explained, “and especially from the Ketan rice, a species which contains much gluten and becomes thick in boiling. They manufacture it in the following manner: They first make a leaven called ragi, consisting of powdered carrots, pepper, grated pisang nuts and sugar. The Ketan rice is then carefully added to this leaven in a large earthenware vessel and the whole mixture is exposed to the heat of the sun for three days. They then pour water on it, in the proportion of one gantang of water to each gantang of rice. They now let it ferment in the heat of the sun for two days and then filter the liquor through canvas. This liquor is the toeak.” “But how is it possible for it to become as strong as that we just now tasted?” Wienersdorf asked. “According to your explanation the process is a brewing and not a distillation.” “Listen; in order to make the toeak stronger, the Dayaks boil it in a pan covered with leaves, among which a hollow bamboo has been put in a horizontal position. The steam now travels through this tube and is condensed, when the liquor is collected again in the earthen bowl. Hence it becomes distilled. The Dayaks call it arak; and one of these bottles of arak was given to me by Ali Bahar.” When our travellers had finished their pleasant conversation about toeak, Johannes repeated all the information concerning themselves and their movements which he had been obliged to give their late host. He had represented that they were on their way to the Upper Kapoeas, to trade with the Olo Ott; that Sheik Mohammed Al Mansoer was following them in order to inspect these regions, intending afterwards to return with a cargo of chintzes and prints; that the two Swiss were his servants and that Dalim and the other two Dayaks were hired as rowers for the whole of the journey. To this programme he suggested they should adhere whenever they met with strangers. It would not disturb their friendship, for Johannes was not the man to abuse the trust placed in him; while a thorough understanding would reign among them should they be respectively thrown upon their own resources. Thus the midnight hours passed by, and at about one o’clock in the morning they reached the end of their journey for that day, the Kwala Mantangei. Long before they sighted the mouth of the stream they heard the tolling of the titih; and upon entering the soengei and approaching the dwellings built along its banks other sounds became audible which made them advance with caution.