seized roughly from either side, a heavy hand was
clapped over her mouth, and before she could make even an effort to
rebel she had been dragged to the end of the verandah, down the notched
log to the ground and a moment later found herself in a war prahu which
was immediately pushed into the stream.

Since Virginia had come to the long-house after her rescue from the
ourang outangs, supposedly by von Horn, Rajah Muda Saffir had kept very
much out of sight, for he knew that should the girl see him she would
recognize him as the man who had stolen her from the Ithaca. So it
came as a mighty shock to the girl when she heard the hated tones of
the man whom she had knocked overboard from the prahu two nights
before, and realized that the bestial Malay sat close beside her, and
that she was again in his power. She looked now for no mercy, nor
could she hope to again escape him so easily as she had before, and so
she sat with bowed head in the bottom of the swiftly moving craft,
buried in anguished thoughts, hopeless and miserable.

Along the stretch of black river that the prahu and her consort covered
that night Virginia Maxon saw no living thing other than a single
figure in a small sampan which hugged the shadows of the shore as the
two larger boats met and passed it, nor answered their hail.

Where von Horn and his two Dyak guides had landed, Muda Saffir's force
disembarked and plunged into the jungle. Rapidly they hastened along
the well known trail toward the point designated by the two messengers,
to come upon the spot almost simultaneously with the party under
Barunda's uncle, who, startled by the two shots several hours
previously, had been cautiously searching through the jungle for an
explanation of them.

They had gone warily for fear that they might stumble upon Ninaka's
party before Muda Saffir arrived with reinforcements, and but just now
had they discovered the prostrate forms of their two companions. One
was dead, but the other was still conscious and had just sufficient
vitality left after the coming of his fellows to whisper that they had
been treacherously shot by the younger white man who had been at the
long-house where they had found Muda Saffir--then the fellow expired
without having an opportunity to divulge the secret hiding place of the
treasure, over the top of which his body lay.

Now Bulan had been an interested witness of all that transpired. At
first he had been inclined to come out