The sergeant-major showed me the kris, and said he had never seen one quite like it before; he had questioned the man about it, and he had told him that the Booghis had two kinds of krises only, which they named the "male" and the "female," which were very similar to each other, having but a slight difference. The man in question was wearing a "male" kris. I asked him if any distinction was made as to who wore either weapon, and he said that the wearing of the "male" kris was dependent on a man's valour--in other words, I take it, the number of people he had disposed of. It seemed somewhat hard on him, a stranger, to be deprived of his weapon when he did not know he was committing an offence by wearing it, so I gave him a dollar for it. "If you come back to this country," I said, "bring a 'female' kris, and I will buy it from you." Some two years later I was sitting in my office one morning when I heard the sergeant-major order the reserve duty men to fall in with their rifles; half a minute later he appeared before me and reported that a man had run "amok" in the village, and after killing one man and wounding two others he had bolted into the jungle. Now an "amok" is akin to a mad dog, and can only be treated as such. As soon as the fit has left the man he never offers resistance, but so long as he is under its influence the only course to pursue is to shoot him and so stop his murderous career. "Serve out buckshot to the men," I ordered (we were armed with Sniders), "and send them into the jungle in pairs to look for him. They are to take him alive if they can, but if he is still 'gelah' (mad) they must shoot him. When you have sent them, come down to the village with me." When we arrived there we found one man dead, stabbed through the heart; two others had also been stabbed, but had only received flesh wounds. No one knew anything about the affair save that a man had suddenly appeared, had run "amok," and then made for the jungle. No one knew who he was. I sent the body of the dead man to the hospital to await an inquest, and the other two to the doctor to have their wounds attended to. About a couple of hours later the sergeant-major again appeared in my office. He was accompanied by a Malay constable, who reported as follows. He and another constable had been searching the jungle for the "amok," but, not having found any trace of him, set off on their return to head-quarters. As they were walking along a narrow path in Indian file he suddenly saw a man dash out and stab his comrade, who was in front of him, in the neck with a kris. Realizing that he must be the man they were searching for, he jammed home the breech-block, cocked his rifle, and let the stranger have the charge of buckshot in the head, dropping him dead. The wounded policeman died within a minute or two, and, seeing he could do nothing for him, the survivor returned at once to report the matter. [Illustration: "HE SAW A MAN DASH OUT AND STAB HIS COMRADE."]