So it was; panting and almost completely out of breath one of those canaries (so called from their yellow braided uniforms) came running up along a pathway which led across the sawah-fields to the Djoerang Pringapoes. As soon as he got up to the group of horsemen he squatted down by the Controller’s horse and made the sembah.
“Kandjeng toean,” he panted, “they are running Amokh in the dessa yonder. One bandoelan has been already krissed and a policeman severely wounded.”
“Who is running Amokh?” cried Verstork.
“I don’t know, kandjeng toean,” replied the man. “Women and children are flying about yelling and screaming and I hurried off at once to fetch the Loerah; but as I ran along I heard that Setrosmito is the murderer.”
“Setrosmito!” exclaimed Verstork in utter amazement. “What, old Setrosmito? Quite impossible; is it not, Loerah?”
“No, kandjeng toean,” was the chief’s reply.
“But the man is much too quiet a fellow for that,” continued the Controller. “Moreover, he is not given to opium smoking, is he?”
“No kandjeng toean,” was the cautious reply.
The screaming still continued, and though it was already growing dusk, people could be distinctly seen running about wildly in the dessa.
“Come, gentlemen,” said Verstork to his friends, “my presence is required yonder. Will you come with me? If we make haste we can get there in a minute or two.”