The Argus Pheasant Part 34

"They're beginning to find their prayer-bones, Mr. Gross," Paddy pointed out, blissfully unconscious that it was he who had inspired their reverence.

At that moment Peter Gross saw a familiar girlish figure stride lightly down the lane. His face brightened.

"Good-afternoon, _juffrouw_!" he exclaimed delightedly as she approached. "How did you get here so soon?"

He offered his hand, and after a moment's hesitation Koyala permitted his friendly clasp to encircle the tips of her fingers.

"Lkath has a house ready for you," she said. "The dos-a-dos will be here in a moment." They chatted while the natives gaped until the jiggly, two-wheeled carts clattered toward them.

Lkath received them at the door of his house. Peter Gross needed only a glance into his face to see that Koyala had not been mistaken in her warning. Lkath entertained no friendly feeling toward him.

"Welcome to the falcon's nest," Lkath said.

The words were spoken with a stately courtesy in which no cordiality mingled. Dyak tradition forbade closing a door to a guest, however unwelcome the guest might be.

Seized with a sudden admiration of his host, who could swallow his prejudices to maintain the traditional hospitality of his race, Peter Gross resolved to win his friendship at all costs. It was his newborn admiration that inspired him to reply:

"Your house is well named, Gusti. None but eagles would dare roost above the gate to Sangjang."

Lkath's stern features relaxed with a gratified smile, showing that the compliment had pleased him. There was more warmth in his voice as he said:

"My poor house and all that is in it is yours, Mynheer Resident."

"There is no door in Borneo more open than Lkath's," Peter responded. "I am happy to be here with you, brother."

The words were the signal, according to Dyak custom, for Lkath to step forward and rub noses. But the chief drew back.

"The blood of one of my people is between us, Mynheer Resident," he said bluntly. "There can be no talk of brother until the Sadong Dyaks are avenged."

"Am I not here to do justice?" Peter Gross asked. "To-morrow, when the sun is an hour high, we will have a council. Bring your people who know of this thing before me at that time."

Lkath bowed and said: "Very good, Mynheer Resident."

Having performed his duty as head of his nation, Lkath the chief became Lkath the host, and ushered Peter Gross, Rouse, and Koyala into the house. Peter Gross was surprised to find the dwelling fitted out with such European conveniences as chandelier oil-lamps, chairs, and tables, and even a reed organ. Boys dressed in white appeared with basins of water and napkins on silver salvers for ablutions. The dinner was all that an epicure could desire. Madeira and bitters were first offered, together with a well-spiced vegetable soup. Several dishes of fowls and other edible birds, cooked in various ways, followed. Then a roast pig, emitting a most savory odor, was brought in, a frica.s.see of bats, rice, potatoes, and other vegetables, stewed durian, and, lastly, various native fruits and nuts. Gin, punch, and a native beer were served between courses.

Lkath's formal dignity mellowed under the influence of food and wine, and he became more loquacious. By indirect reference Peter Gross obtained, piece by piece, a coherent account of the hunting trip on which the Sadonger had lost his life. It confirmed his suspicion that the brother knew far more about the murder than he had admitted, but he kept his own counsel.

The next morning the elders a.s.sembled in the _balais_, or a.s.sembly-hall.

Peter Gross listened to the testimony offered. He said little, and the only man he questioned was the Sadonger's brother, Lkath's chief witness.

"How did they know it was Jahi who was responsible?" he asked the Sadongers who had accompanied Lkath on the search. "They broke into voluble protestations. Did they use the sumpitan? Was it not exclusively a weapon of the hill Dyaks? Did not the feathers on the arrow show that it came from Jahi's tribe? And did they not find a strip of red calico from a hillman's chawat in the bush?"

Peter Gross did not answer their questions. "Show me where the body was found," he directed.

Paddy Rouse, usually bold to temerariousness, protested in dismay, pointing out the danger in venturing into the jungle with savages so avowedly unfriendly.

"There is no middle course for those who venture into the lion's den,"

Peter Gross replied. "We will be in no greater danger in the jungle than here, and I may be able to solve the mystery and do our cause some good."

"I'm with you wherever you go," Paddy said loyally.

Lkath led the expedition in person. To Peter Gross's great relief, Koyala went also. The journey took nearly five hours, for the road was very rugged and there were many detours on account of swamps, fallen trees, and impenetrable thickets. Koyala rode next to Peter Gross all the way. He instinctively felt that she did so purposely to protect him from possible treachery. It increased his sense of obligation toward her. At the same time he realized keenly his own inability to make an adequate recompense. Old Sachsen's words, "If you can induce her to trust us, half your work is done," came to him with redoubled force.

They talked of Bulungan, its sorry history, its possibilities for development. Koyala's eyes glowed with a strange light, and she spoke with an ardency that surprised the resident.

"How she loves her country!" he thought.

They were riding single file along a narrow jungle-path when Koyala's horse stumbled over a hidden creeper. She was not watching the path at the moment, and would have fallen had not Peter Gross spurred his animal alongside and caught her. Her upturned face looked into his as his arm circled about her and held her tightly. There was a furious rush of blood to her cheeks; then she swung back into the saddle lightly as a feather and spurred her horse ahead. A silence came between them, and when the path widened and he was able to ride beside her again, he saw that her eyes were red.

"These roads are very dusty," he remarked, wiping a splinter of fine shale from his own eyes.

When they reached the scene of the murder Peter Gross carefully studied the lay of the land. Lkath and the dead man's brother, upon request, showed him where the red calico was found, and how the body lay by the water-hole. Standing in the bush where the red calico strip had been discovered, Peter Gross looked across the seven or eight rods to the water-hole and shook his head.

"There is some mistake," he said. "No man can blow an arrow that far."

Lkath's face flashed with anger. "When I was a boy, Mynheer Resident, I learned to shoot the sumpitan," he said. "Let me show you how a Dyak can shoot." He took the sumpitan which they had taken with them at Peter Gross's request, placed an arrow in the orifice, distended his cheeks, and blew. The shaft went across the water-hole.

"A wonderful shot!" Peter Gross exclaimed in pretended amazement. "There is none other can shoot like Lkath."

Several Sadongers offered to show what they could do. None of the shafts went quite so far as their chief's. Taking the weapon from them, Peter Gross offered it to the dead Sadonger's brother.

"Let us see how far you can shoot," he said pleasantly.

The man shrank back. Peter Gross noticed his quick start of fear. "I cannot shoot," he protested.

"Try," Peter Gross insisted firmly, forcing the sumpitan into his hand.

The Sadonger lifted it to his lips with trembling hands, the weapon shaking so that careful aim was impossible. He closed his eyes, took a quick half-breath, and blew. The arrow went little more than half the distance to the water-hole.

"You did not blow hard enough," Peter Gross said. "Try once more." But the Sadonger, shaking his head, retreated among his companions, and the resident did not press the point. He turned to Lkath.

"It is time to start, if we are to be back in Sadong before _malam_"

(night) "casts its mantle over the earth," he said. Well content with the showing he had made, Lkath agreed.

They were pa.s.sing the temple; it was an hour before sundown when Peter Gross said suddenly:

"Let us speak with Djath on this matter." He singled out Koyala, Lkath, and the Sadonger's brother, inviting them to enter the temple with him.

A dusky pallor came over the Sadonger's face, but he followed the others into the enclosure.

"The great G.o.d Djath is not my G.o.d," Peter Gross said, when they had entered the silent hall and stood between the rows of grinning idols.

"Yet I have heard that he is a G.o.d who loves the truth and hates falsehood. It seems good to me, therefore, that the Bintang Burung call down Djath's curse on this slayer of one of your people. Then, when the curse falls, we may know without doubt who the guilty one is. Is it good, Lkath?"

The chief, although plainly amazed at hearing such a suggestion from a white man, was impressed with the idea.

"It is good," he a.s.sented heartily.

Peter Gross looked at Koyala. She was staring at him with a puzzled frown, as if striving to fathom his purpose.

"Invoke us a curse, O Bintang Burung, on the slayer," he asked. "Speak your bitterest curse. Give him to the Budjang Brani, to the eternal fires at the base of the Gunong Agong."