As they neared the huge twin Hindu deities, carved in stone, that formed the gate-posts of Wobanguli's palace grounds and the council-hall enclosure, the crowd massed so thickly that it was impossible for them to proceed. Paddy drove his horse into the press and split an aisle by a vicious display of hoofs and the liberal use of his quirt-stock. The crowd gave way sullenly, those behind refusing to give way for those in front. Paddy leaned sidewise in his saddle as they passed between the scowling gods.
"Into the lion's den," he whispered to Peter Gross. His eye was sparkling; roughing the natives had whetted his appetite for action.
Peter Gross sprang from his horse lightly—he had learned to ride before he went to sea—and entered the dimly lit hall. Rouse remained at the entrance and began looking about for Inchi. The little Malay was rubbing down a horse, but gave no sign of recognition when Rouse's glance met his. As Paddy looked away, his face, too, sobered. Only his eyes were more keenly alert.
As Peter Gross became accustomed to the semi-darkness, he distinguished about forty chiefs and princes seated along the side walls of the building. There were two Europeans in the room in one corner. Peter Gross guessed their identity before he could distinguish their faces; they were Muller and Van Slyck.
At the farther end of the hall was a platform. Two chairs of European make had been placed upon it. Wobanguli occupied one, the other was vacant. The hall was thick with smoke, for those who were not chewing betel were laboring on big Dutch pipes, introduced by their white rulers.
Silence greeted Peter Gross as he slowly walked the length of the hall, and none rose to do him the customary honor. Instead of mounting the platform he remained standing at its base and looked sternly into the face of the Rajah. In a voice suspiciously sweet he asked:
"Is it so long since a son of the white father has come to Bulungan that you have forgotten how he must be received, O Rajah?"
There was a moment's pregnant pause, a moment when the royal mind did some quick thinking. Then Wobanguli rose and said:
"We have heard the call and we are here, resident."
The moment Wobanguli rose a quick rustle and the clicking of steel apprised Peter Gross that the others also had risen. Although he knew it was not in his honor—custom forbade lesser chiefs from sitting while the Rajah stood—he accepted it as such. He did not look around until he had mounted the platform. Then he gazed at each man individually. Something in his silent scrutiny sent a cold chill into the hearts of more than one of the chiefs who had endured it, but most of them returned it boldly and defiantly.