A PERSONAL INCIDENT
seemed evident that we should reach the place hours before dawn. About 1.30 A.M. Mahmud quietly woke me, and the boatmen nerved themselves for the final effort.
We knew that to get past Pâsir Sâlak it was necessary to go right under one bank or the other, and the deepest water was on the left or Kampong Gâjah side. That we decided to take. Huge fires were blazing on the bank, and round each were grouped a number of armed men—indeed, the whole place was apparently on the qui vive. As noiselessly as possible, but none the less vigorously, the men plied their paddles, and we made for the deep water under the bank. Just at this moment the thick white veil of mist came down over the river, and under its sheltering cover we glided swiftly down, the light of the blazing logs, close though they were, shining vaguely through the fog, while now and then a man's figure, of seemingly gigantic proportions, loomed out from the fire-lit haze.
Every instant we expected to feel the shock of the boat against the barrier, and we had determined that when that happened we would push our boat along it till we found the usual opening closed by a floating log and guarded, as we supposed, by boats. In the darkness we meant to try and force
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