The game resolved itself into an attempt to pierce the seladang's sound eye; we lured him back, time after time, but could not drive a kris to the mark. Evening was approaching, and I thought the battle was over for the day. The seladang stood near by, ignoring, for the moment, the sack we were dangling. Blood was flowing from a dozen wounds. When he took a step forward, we cried out in surprise. He was weakening! He almost tottered away, as if he had forgotten about us.
Even though he had routed us completely, treed us and kept us treed and killed my good friend and assistant, Ali, I felt sorry for the beast, as I sat there watching him. He had put up a magnificent fight, and, half dead, he would muster his remaining strength and charge us again if we dared set foot on the ground. It was his victory until the moment he died.
His head drooped lower; then he went down on his fore knees, bellowing weakly. Presently his hind quarters slumped down, and blood began to flow from his mouth.
I dropped from the tree and walked forward cautiously to the spot where my rifle had fallen; then, armed, I stood watching him in the throes of death. None of the Malays had followed me, and, when I told them to come down, they refused. Finally, to convince them that there was no danger, I put a 50-110 explosive bullet behind the beast's shoulder.
We dug a grave for Ali and buried him; then we gathered our material and started back for the kampong. My fever was so bad that the medicine in my kit did me little good; for hours at a time, I was unconscious and had to be carried. At the kampong, I rested for several days, gathering strength to make the trip to the coast.
When I went to see the Sultan at Trengganu, before taking the boat to Singapore, he regarded me severely and said: "Tûan, why have I given you big concessions in land? Is it because I want you to go out and kill yourself in capturing animals?" He seemed satisfied when I told him that my days as an animal capturer were over, and that, after a trip home, I should return to Trengganu, to make my fortune in more peaceful ways.
At Singapore, I saw my doctor, who looked me over and told me that any more escapades in the jungle would be the last of me. He ordered me to leave the country at once and I took passage on a steamer sailing the next week.
Then I hurried off to Palembang, where I had spent my first months among the Malays. It was Ali's home, and I was in duty bound to take his kris back for him. The old hadji received me affectionately and heard the story of his nephew's death.
"He died bravely, tûan?" he asked.
"Yes, and in the faith."