hiin more than once they did not succeed in wound- ing him. He retreated before their onslaught, keep- ing his face turned toward them and so chanced to trip over a root near a clump of bamboos, lost his footing, and fell. His assailants fancied that they had killed him and at once fear seized thern, for he was a chief, and they had no warrant from the Sul- tan. They, therefore, fled and To' Kaya gathered himself together and went back to Lěbai Salâm's grave where he finished eating the tin of "gem" biscuits.
At dawn he came once more to Haji Mil's house, and halted there to bandage his wounds with some cotton rags which had been bound about a roll of mats and pillows that Haji Mih had removed from his house at the alarm of fire. Again he shouted to the men in the house to come forth and fight with him anew, but no one replied, so he laughed aloud and went down the path till he came to the compound which belonged to Tungku Pa. The latter and a man named 'Sěmail were seated upon the veranda, and when the alarm was raised that To' Kâya was approaching, Tungku Pa's wife, acting on a fine instinct of self-preservation, slammed to the door and bolted it on the inside while her husband danced without, clamouring to be let in.
Tungku Pa was, of course, a man of royal blood, but To Kaya addressed him as though he were an equal.
"O Pa," he cried. "I have waited for you the long night through, though you did not come. I
