As the boat disappeared about a bend in the river Rajah Muda Saffir arose, shaking his fist in the direction it had vanished and, cursing anew and volubly, damned each separate hair in the heads of the faithless Barunda and the traitorous Ninaka. Then he resumed his watch for the friendly prahu, or smaller sampan which he knew time would eventually bring from up or down the river to his rescue, for who of the surrounding natives would dare refuse succor to the powerful Rajah of Sakkan! At the long-house which harbored Ninaka and his crew, Barunda and Bulan stopped with theirs to obtain food and rest. The quick eye of the Dyak chieftain recognized the prahu of Rajah Muda Saffir where it lay upon the beach, but he said nothing to his white companion of what it augured—it might be well to discover how the land lay before he committed himself too deeply to either faction. At the top of the notched log he was met by Ninaka, who, with horror-wide eyes, looked down upon the fearsome monstrosities that lumbered awkwardly up the rude ladder in the wake of the agile Dyaks and the young white giant. “What does it mean?” whispered the panglima to Barunda. “These are now my friends,” replied Barunda. “Where is Muda Saffir?” Ninaka jerked his thumb toward the river. “Some crocodile has feasted well,” he said significantly. Barunda smiled. “And the girl?” he continued. “And the treasure?” Ninaka’s eyes narrowed. “They are safe,” he answered. “The white man wants the girl,” remarked Barunda. “He does not suspect that you are one of Muda Saffir’s people. If he guessed that you knew the whereabouts of the girl he would torture the truth from you and then kill you. He does not care for the treasure. There is enough in that great chest for two, Ninaka. Let us be friends. Together we can divide it; otherwise neither of us will get any of it. What do you say, Ninaka?” The panglima scowled. He did not relish the idea of sharing his prize, but he was shrewd enough to realize that Barunda possessed the power to rob him of it all, so at last he acquiesced, though with poor grace. Bulan had stood near during this conversation, unable, of course, to understand a single word of the native tongue. “What does the man say?” he asked Barunda. “Has he seen anything of the prahu bearing the girl?” “Yes,” replied the Dyak. “He says that two hours ago such a war prahu passed on its way up river—he saw the white girl plainly. Also he knows whither they are bound, and how, by crossing through the jungle on foot, you may intercept them at their next stop.”