Having thus taken every possible precaution our deserters were seated together to enjoy the delightful evening. The sky was clear and now that the sun had gone down the heat was replaced by that fresh and agreeable coolness which renders these evening hours the most delightful in tropical lands. Thus bathed in the soft moonlight they sat engaged in conversation about the incidents of the last few days, and the probability of future encounters. “How I wish they could be avoided,” Wienersdorf said. “Blood, always blood! Ours is a horrible journey.” “Don’t worry,” Johannes answered angrily. “You should have stayed at home if you are so tenderly disposed. Besides, we only defend ourselves. Not a shot has been fired or a blow given except when enforced. Defence, not defiance has been our rule and so it must continue to be as long as may be possible.” While they were thus conversing they suddenly heard a soft sob, as if uttered by a woman. They looked at each other, not knowing how to account for the sound. They had seen all the women in the kampong. Those not constrained by the jealousy of their lords and masters had moved about freely among the strangers and many had made merry at the awkwardness of the pretended Dayaks. Johannes alone, by virtue of his turban, had commanded their respect. There were old and young, handsome and ugly ones amongst them; but they all displayed a peculiar tendency to mirth, if not frivolity, quite irreconcilable with the sobbing now heard. La Cueille, the most polite of the four, got up, resolved to discover the meaning of that strange sound. He returned in a few moments and informed his comrades that yonder, near the high building where Amai Kotong resided, he had found a large cage in which a woman was imprisoned. He had addressed her and received a reply, but what she said he could not understand. Johannes burst out laughing and said, “Perhaps some silly husband has kindly locked up his better-half to teach her manners. The custom of the country, my man!” “Rather harsh measures to cage a member of the gentle sex like a wild animal,” Schlickeisen remarked. “Sometimes members of the fair sex do not deserve a better fate,” replied the other, laughing. “But let us see, I dare say I shall be able to understand her.” But before he had concluded Dalim appeared on the scene. His explanation of the sobbing sounds they had heard completely unnerved our travellers. He reminded them of the lake Ampang, when Harimaoung Boekit had besmeared his victor with his own, and himself with his victor’s blood.