“Quite so, sir! But we are unable to keep the mice in their trap; they can leave it whenever they choose.”
Although convinced of the correctness of Tomonggong’s argument, the Colonel would not yield. For a moment he thought of remaining himself and of sending one of the chiefs to Bandjermasin. But knowing that the wavering character of the native would certainly involve a considerable loss of time, and that at headquarters the authorities would demand and expect the fullest information, he abandoned the idea. He was about to try once more to persuade the Tomonggongs to remain when one of the followers of the Chief of Kwala Kapoeas approached hurriedly and whispered something into the ear of the old gentleman.
“As I thought,” the latter exclaimed, “the men of Kwala Kapoeas recognized Harimaoung Boekit and his Poenans during the last fight. They are terribly frightened and wish to leave. Most of them are already preparing their canoes. I must go and see what it all means.” [[217]]
“We will join you,” said the Colonel and Tomonggong Patti Singa Djaja.
On arriving at the encampment they found their men in the greatest excitement. Terrible accounts were current of the ferocity and cruelty of the Poenans. Most of the inhabitants of kotta Baroe had already gone away and the others were on the point of taking to their canoes. The Colonel begged, nay commanded them to stay; but the little troop was panic-stricken. In a few moments he was left with only the two Tomonggongs, the canoes having disappeared one after another behind the first bend. The two Dayak chiefs exchanged looks and muttered a few words, after which they deliberately seized the struggling Colonel by his arms, forcibly carried him to his canoe and as soon as they had entered it, it shot away. It was truly an ignominious flight, but necessity compelled and they were forced to go.
As the canoe shot round the angle of the river the Colonel cast a parting look in the direction of the fortification, and shaking his fist exclaimed:
“I will return and be avenged!”
The siege had lasted only four days.
The joy of the inhabitants of the kotta was boundless. They all hurried outside to enjoy their regained liberty, and the first want which each of the inhabitants hastened to supply was a bath. It seemed as if suddenly the people were metamorphosed into amphibious animals. The whole population, men, women and children, splashed about in the clear river, performing rare feats of swimming with evident enjoyment. Their pleasure however was interrupted by a sudden cry of alarm, “Badjai! Badjai [[218]]hai!” a crocodile, a large crocodile. The bathers thereupon sped away from the water as fast as possible, but the monster had already singled out its prey. It shot forward like lightning until it arrived near the bank, where it seized one of the women by the leg and tried to drag her under water. The poor victim’s shrieks were heart-rending. Grasping the branch of an adjacent tree she clung to it desperately. A horrible and fearful struggle now ensued. The crocodile had seized her by the muscles of the thigh and it pulled and tugged away, determined to tear its victim from her hold. The woman yelled fearfully, her body describing the most awful contortions as her flesh was torn into shreds. Still she clung desperately to the saving branch which, though bent double, still resisted the vigor of the saurian.
But the poor woman, though struggling bravely, was fast becoming exhausted by the loss of blood and the intense agony of her sufferings. She must soon have succumbed but for the timely assistance which now arrived.