"Then I cross from the slate all that has been charged against you, juffrouw. You are free to come and go as you wish."
A flash of anger crossed Koyala's face.
"Your pardon is neither asked nor desired, mynheer," she retorted.
"I must do my duty as I see it," Peter Gross replied. "All that I ask of you, juffrouw, is that you do not use your influence with the natives to hinder or oppose the plans I have for their betterment. May I have your pledge for that?"
"I make no promises and give no pledges, mynheer," Koyala announced coldly.
"I beg your pardon—I should not have asked it of you. All I ask is a chance to work out my plans without hindrance from those whose welfare I am seeking."
Koyala's lips curled derisively. "You can promote our welfare best by going back to Java, mynheer," she retorted.
Peter Gross looked at her sadly.
"Juffrouw," he said, "you are speaking words that you do not know the meaning of. Leave Bulungan? What would happen then? The Chinese would come down on you from the north, the Bugis from the east, and the Bajaus from every corner of the sea. Your coasts would be harried, your people would be driven out of their towns to the jungles, trade would cease, the rice harvests would fail, starvation would come upon you. Your children would be torn from you to be sold in the slave-market. Your women would be stolen. You are a woman, juffrouw, a woman of education and understanding; you know what the white man saves you from."
"And what have you whites given us in return for your protection?" she cried fiercely. "Your law, which is the right of a white man to cheat and rob the ignorant Dyak under the name of trade. Your garrisons in our city, which mean taking away our weapons so that our young men become soft in muscle and short in breath and can no longer make war like their fathers did. Your religion, which you force on us with a sword and do not believe yourself. Your morals, which have corrupted the former sanctity of our homes and have wrought an infamy unspeakable. Gin, to make our men stagger like fools; opium, to debauch us all! These are the white man's gifts to the Dyaks of Borneo. I would rather see my people free, with only their bows and arrows and sumpitans, fighting a losing fight in their jungles against the Malays and the Chinese slave-hunters, than be ruined by arrach and gin and opium like they are now."