LKATH'S CONVERSION
The afternoon sun was waning when Peter Gross's sailing proa arrived at
Sadong. The resident had been fortunate in finding a Sadonger at
Bulungan, and a liberal promise of brass bracelets and a bolt of cloth
persuaded the rover to pilot them into Sadong harbor. Paddy Rouse
accompanied his chief.
A vociferous crowd of Dyaks hastened to the beach under the
misapprehension that the proa was a trader. When shouts from the crew
apprised them that the _orang blanda_ chief was aboard, their cries of
welcome died away. Glances of curious and friendly interest changed to
glances of hostility, and men on the edges of the crowd slunk away to
carry the news through the village. The inhospitable reception depressed
Peter Gross, but he resolutely stepped into one of the sampans that had
put off from shore at the proa's arrival and was paddled to the beach.
"We must be awfully popular here," Paddy remarked cheerfully, and he
looked unabashed into the scowling faces of the natives. He lifted his
hat. Rays from the low-hanging sun shone through his ruddy, tousled
hair, making it gleam like living flame. A murmur of surprise ran
through the crowd. Several Dyaks dropped to their knees.
"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 fricassee 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 assembled in the _balais_, or assembly-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 passing 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 god Djath is not my god," 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 god 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 assented 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."
Koyala's frown deepened, and she seemed on the point of refusal, when
Lkath urged: "Call us down a curse, daughter of Djath, I beg you."
Seeing there was no escape, Koyala sank to her knees and lifted her
hands to the vault above. A vacant stare came into her eyes. Her lips
began to move, first almost inaudibly; then Peter Gross distinguished
the refrain of an uninterpretable formula of the Bulungan priesthood, a
formula handed down to her by her grandfather, Chawatangi. Presently she
began her curse in a mystic drone:
"May his eyes be burned out with fire; may the serpents devour his
limbs; may the vultures eat his flesh; may the wild pigs defile his
bones; may his soul burn in the eternal fires of the Gunong Agong--"
"Mercy, _bilian_, mercy!" Shrieking his plea, the dead Sadonger's
brother staggered forward and groveled at Koyala's feet. "I will tell
all!" he gasped. "I shot the arrow; I killed my brother; for the love of
his woman I killed him--"
He fell in a fit, foaming at the mouth.
There was utter silence for a moment. Then Peter Gross said to the aged
priest who kept the temple:
"Call the guard, father, and have this carrion removed to the jail." At
a nod from Lkath, the priest went.
Neither Lkath nor Koyala broke the silence until they had returned to
the former's house. Peter Gross, elated at the success of his mission,
was puzzled and disappointed at the look he surprised on Koyala's face,
a look of dissatisfaction at the turn of events. The moment she raised
her eyes to meet his, however, her face brightened.
When they were alone Lkath asked:
"How did you know, O wise one?" His voice expressed an almost
superstitious reverence.
"The gods reveal many things to those they love," was Peter Gross's
enigmatical reply.
To Paddy Rouse, who asked the same question, he made quite a different
reply.
"It was really quite simple," he said. "The only man with a motive for
the crime was the brother. He wanted the wife. His actions at the
water-hole convinced me he was guilty; all that was necessary was a
little claptrap and an appeal to native superstition to force him to
confess. This looked bad for us at the start, but it has proven the most
fortunate thing that could have happened. Lkath will be with us now."