The festivities however were continued; toeak and confectionery were abundantly handed around after the religious ceremonies, and the most liberal hospitality prevailed during the night.
The day was just breaking when Johannes and Schlickeisen from their post of observation noticed a suspicious movement on the border of the forest. They saw two men, one of whom they thought by his uniform to be the Colonel, shake hands and separate, one making straight for the kotta while the other retired within the forest. In order to prevent a panic Johannes went down for Amai Kotong, who at once recognized the Tomonggong of Kwala Kapoeas.
“It is one of my oldest friends,” he said, “and you must not harm him.”
“Certainly not,” Johannes replied. “He is too honest an old man. But I refuse to admit him inside the kotta. You go and speak to him, Harimaoung, and think of the gibbet which the whitefaces have promised you.”
The Poenan smiled disdainfully.
Old Nikodemus in the meantime came nearer, carrying in his right hand a small Dutch flag tied to a short stick, while in his [[206]]left he bore a handsome rattan walking-stick with a heavy golden knob, engraved with the Dutch coat-of-arms. When arrived at the distance of about one hundred steps from the fortification, he suddenly saw a head appear above the ramparts and heard a voice addressing him:
“Be saluted, Father Tomonggong! what may you want here?”
Frightened at the voice, which seemed familiar to him, he looked attentively and became alarmed on recognizing the well-known, smiling face of Harimaoung Boekit, the Poenan chief, the tiger of the mountains. What was he doing there? Was the Colonel right after all in supposing an insurrection to be on foot in the upper country? The Tomonggong was so terribly frightened that he quite forgot to answer the question and remained fixed like a statue. Suddenly two rifle shots aimed with remarkable precision carried away the flag from one, and the walking-stick from the other hand. Johannes and Schlickeisen had given a sample of their marksmanship, with the sole intention of frightening and not harming the old man. They succeeded admirably, for he stood still looking down at the pieces of his shattered cane which, being a present of the Dutch Government, he valued more than all his other possessions. But when he heard the voice of Harimaoung Boekit again saying:
“Father, get away quickly,” he took to his heels, his flight being accelerated by a few blank discharges from the Europeans.
“That has set the puppets going!” the Colonel said, on hearing the shots.