Presently appeared the Rajah's war boat, he standing at the stern. We all ran down to meet him and Mr. Crookshank, and take them to Bertha, who had been carried into a house. While we were all standing on the little wharf, built on tall piles into the water, the Malays cried out that it was giving way, and we must all go into the houses. The Bishop then decided what to do with his large party. Mr. Helms had a schooner close by, in which he was going to Sambas, to seek assistance from the Dutch, our nearest neighbours. He kindly offered to take Miss Woolley, Miss Coomes, and two of our eldest school-boys with him. The rest of us could go to Linga, where there was a fort, as a little pinnace belonging to Mr. Steele lay handy at the mouth of the river. The Chinese, however, implored to go with us; and indeed it would have been cruel to leave them a prey to the Malays, or the bad Chinese, or the Dyaks. When we were lodged in the pinnace, therefore, the Bishop went back to Jernang, and packed all our Chinese into the life-boat, which was attached by a rope to the pinnace; so we were all together. It was nearly dark when we weighed anchor, and left the mouth of the river. There was a tiny cabin, just large enough to hold Bertha on her mattress; a fowl-house, into which our native children crept; an open hold, where we women sat down on our bundles, with our children in our arms; and there was a place for cargo forward, where the men settled themselves. The Rajah in his war boat also proceeded to Linga, and we expected him to arrive long before our slow boat; he would meet Mr. Johnson, his nephew, there, and organize a force of Dyaks from the great rivers, Sakarran and Batang Lupar, to drive away the Chinese rebels. We never had any doubt of their doing this eventually, though we feared the remedy might be almost as bad as the disease, if the Dyaks proved unmanageable and quarrelled with one another. The night was very dark and wet, and the deck leaked upon us, so that we and our bags and bundles were soon wet through. But we neither heeded the rain nor felt the cold. We had eaten nothing since early morning, but were not hungry; and although for several nights we could scarcely be said to have slept, we were not sleepy. A deep thankfulness took possession of my soul; all our dear ones were spared to us. My children were in my arms, my husband paced the deck over my head. I seemed to have no cares, and to be able to trust to God for the future, who had been so merciful to us hitherto. I remember, too, when Mrs. Stahl opened the provision basket, and gave us each a slice of bread and meat, how very good it was, although we had not thought about wanting it. We lit a little fire, and made some hot tea, but soon had a message from the Rajah's boat to put out the fire lest we should be seen. The only thing that troubled me was a nasty faint smell, for which I could not account; but next morning we found a Chinaman's head in a