They enter, as is their custom, without saying a word; they sit down on their heels and eat what is offered them.
In the meantime the young man looks about him and carefully eyes the girls, should there be any and if there is one that pleases him he points her out to one of his companions who immediately rises and tells the fortunate damsel what his relative desires.
The young woman, when she does not utter a curt gne, murmurs, "Eh! eh! ngot" (Yes, I am willing), a phrase which seems a hiccough but is not.
Then the gallant youth draws near the girl and offers her a necklace of glass beads, and, if he has any, some brass wire to make bracelets, receiving in exchange from his future bride a quid or two of betel.
Without any delay the father of the girl and that of the young man, or some one who represents them, commence the more prosaic part of the business, that is: they decide upon the sort of presents that the bridegroom must give the parents and sisters of his spouse on the wedding-day, to compensate them for the girl he is taking away.
They discuss if the gifts must consist of only one earthen-ware cooking-pot (an article of luxury in the jungle where bamboo utensils are in common use) instead of two, and if a pair of parangs (woodcutter's knives) should be added; then there must be some coloured beads, brass wire and perhaps even a piece of bright coloured calico.
These very important matters being settled, the wedding-day is fixed, after which the affianced couple part without either tears or sighs, the young man returning with his relations to their own habitation.
The great day comes.
The bridegroom accompanied by all the men of his family and by some of the women, betakes himself to the far-off hut of the bride, carrying with him the promised gifts.
There is a large gathering of Sakais from every part, because joys and pains, plenty and famine are equally and fraternally shared by them.