“Listen. As long as we remain in the Lesser Dayak we need not touch our water. Nor shall we require to do so while on the coast of Borneo. We shall have to take refuge during the day in one of the many creeks in order to avoid the cruisers. Now there is no country in the world that has so many rivers opening into the sea as you find in the south of Borneo. Any of those streams will enable us to replenish our supply of water. We [[33]]shall have to be careful crossing to Biliton, for there we shall be at sea. It is a little better on the north coast of Banca, but where we shall find water in abundance is on the eastern coast of Sumatra. Such streams as the Reteh and the Indragiri will furnish enough to allay our thirst.”
“You are a born geographer,” said Wienersdorf, “and I raise my hat in respect to your knowledge.”
“What do you mean by raising your hat? I see only a shabby service cap.”
“Well let us say we raise our caps; but really your explanation was so excellent that I should like you to complete it.”
“Yes,” said Johannes, “I know you are as inquisitive as the monkey. But come, what is it you wish to know?”
“How long will the voyage from Borneo to Sumatra occupy?”
“If the south-east monsoon continues until we reach Banca we may reckon our speed at twenty miles a day; but that will be too much to expect, so we will say fifteen miles a day. Thus the voyage, barring accidents, will take seven days.”
In such conversation was the time passed during the weary days of waiting. On the second day after the new moon Baba Poetjieng arrived at the fort. He pretended that his visit was to fetch away the last of the dried fish, which concluded his contract with Johannes, but his true object was to make final arrangements and to fix the hour for departure. The time was favorable. A native had just died of cholera and no one would undertake to bury him except the three Dayaks who were to accompany the deserters. The tide would continue to flow until half-past ten and would be followed by a rapid ebb. All chances [[34]]were therefore in their favor. As evening fell the four allies crept into the hut of Johannes, where they remained concealed until it was quite dark. They then stole out one by one, and passing behind the shrubs which lined the banks of the river, they reached the kampong unobserved and took their places in the canoe which was to carry the deceased to her last resting-place. About ten the coffin was taken to the boat, and at eleven o’clock came the priestesses who were to chant the hymns for the repose of the dead.
The ebb tide had already commenced when they arrived; the two canoes therefore pulled away immediately from the landing-stage and passed the fort, with the results already known. [[35]]