After this the Dayak companions of the dead man uttered a piercing shriek called tatoem, the lament for the dead, and then proceeded to close the grave. In order to secure the body from being interfered with, they had chosen a spot in the midst of thick herbage and had carefully cut the sods and put them aside without breaking them. They then collected the excavated earth upon a large sheet, taking care not to drop a single handful. In filling the grave they tramped the earth down as firmly as possible, planted a few short shrubs and then replaced the sods so carefully that the most searching eye could not discover where they had been divided by the spade. The remainder of the superfluous earth was carefully carried to the river, into which it was thrown, and the grave was copiously watered so as to preserve the sods and plants from withering. When all was finished the fugitives took to their canoes again, threw out their oars, and left the spot which had nearly been their last resting-place. CHAPTER VII. JOURNEY UP THE RIVER—POISONS, HOW THEY ARE MADE—THE SOENGEI MOEROI—THE MEETING WITH BAPA ANDONG—BEE-HUNTING—HEAD-HUNTERS AGAIN—A STRUGGLE FOR LIFE. “Confound this stream,” La Cueille muttered to himself, “one can hardly perceive that we are making any progress.” It was indeed at the cost of much labor and fatigue that any way was made through the water. The canoe seemed to glide backward and forward without advancing a single yard, though the crew used their oars with all the power at their command. This was the result of the numerous obstructions which lay in their way. It required an intimate knowledge of the river to be able to weather promontories, to cut off corners, to avoid curves, to utilize currents and to steer clear of sand-banks. But their chief danger lay in the vast quantities of dead trees that were fixed in the bed of the river. Torn away from the banks by storms or inundations, these trees are carried along by the stream a considerable distance, until they become caught by some under lying shoal or sand bank to which they attach themselves and become permanently planted. Collision with such snags is one of the greatest dangers of river navigation, as it generally proves fatal to the vessel. Dalim and his compatriots kept a sharp lookout and by their vigilance and adroitness prevented many a mishap which might have endangered their lives and involved the utter destruction of the canoe. La Cueille found this hard rowing peculiarly irksome. He looked at his arm from time to time, but the cut made by Wienersdorf was healing well without any inflammatory symptom. There was nothing to be seen but a black circle, which Dalim informed him was always present after similar wounds by poisonous weapons, whether the wounded person died or recovered.