"Not responsible," said the doctor, passionately, "not responsible. Why then the whole blame rests with the Hague for——"
"Tut, tut; no politics, I beg," said the Colonel. "Even if you are right, you are wrong; that is my experience in life. Come, it is late; let us retire, for day will begin early for us to-morrow."
They shook hands and the doctor left the room to seek his couch, but the Colonel, before retiring for the night, went the rounds once more to assure himself that all was safe.
For a moment he paused at the southern bastion. This work commanded the whole expanse of water formed by the confluence of the rivers Poeloe-Petak and Kapoeas-Moeroeng, about twelve hundred yards wide at this point. The night was lovely; the stars glittered in the dark blue sky and were brilliantly reflected in the water. The woods which bordered the banks stood out boldly against the dusky horizon. On the eastern banks of the river Poeloe-Petak the outlines of the Dayak dwellings could be traced between the green herbage and here and there the flame of a lamp glittered among the trees and shrubs.
Silence reigned around, broken only by the distant barking of some watchful dog and by the soft murmur of the river.
While the Colonel stood leaning against the parapet and gazing upon this charming scene the sounds of the titih were suddenly heard. The titih is the death bell of the Dayaks. The sounds are produced by a series of strokes upon four metal basins of different sizes. The first knell is struck when a death occurs; the second when the body is coffined; the third when the corpse is being carried to the grave, and the parting knell when the grave is closed. The titih is struck continuously during the prog-
