‘Afterwards the whites depart unseen by Tamb’ Itam, and seem to vanish from before men’s eyes altogether; and the schooner, too, vanishes after the manner of stolen goods.  But a story is told of a white long-boat picked up a month later in the Indian Ocean by a cargo steamer.  Two parched, yellow, glassy-eyed, whispering skeletons in her recognised the authority of a third, who declared that his name was Brown.  His schooner, he reported, bound south with a cargo of Java sugar, had sprung a bad leak and sank under his feet.  He and his companions were the survivors of a crew of six.  The two died on board the steamer which rescued them.  Brown lived to be seen by me, and I can testify that he had played his part to the last.

’It seems, however, that in going away they had neglected to cast off Cornelius’s canoe.  Cornelius himself Brown had let go at the beginning of the shooting, with a kick for a parting benediction.  Tamb’ Itam, after arising from amongst the dead, saw the Nazarene running up and down the shore amongst the corpses and the expiring fires.  He uttered little cries.  Suddenly he rushed to the water, and made frantic efforts to get one of the Bugis boats into the water.  “Afterwards, till he had seen me,” related Tamb’ Itam, “he stood looking at the heavy canoe and scratching his head.”  “What became of him?” I asked.  Tamb’ Itam, staring hard at me, made an expressive gesture with his right arm.  “Twice I struck, Tuan,” he said.  “When he beheld me approaching he cast himself violently on the ground and made a great outcry, kicking.  He screeched like a frightened hen till he felt the point; then he was still, and lay staring at me while his life went out of his eyes.”

‘This done, Tamb’ Itam did not tarry.  He understood the importance of being the first with the awful news at the fort.  There were, of course, many survivors of Dain Waris’s party; but in the extremity of panic some had swum across the river, others had bolted into the bush.  The fact is that they did not know really who struck that blow—­whether more white robbers were not coming, whether they had not already got hold of the whole land.  They imagined themselves to be the victims of a vast treachery, and utterly doomed to destruction.  It is said that some small parties did not come in till three days afterwards.  However, a few tried to make their way back to Patusan at once, and one of the canoes that were patrolling the river that morning was in sight of the camp at the very moment of the attack.  It is true that at first the men in her leaped overboard and swam to the opposite bank, but afterwards they returned to their boat and started fearfully up-stream.  Of these Tamb’ Itam had an hour’s advance.’

CHAPTER 45