nvey to you the impression of his total and
utter isolation. I know, of course, he was in every sense alone of his
kind there, but the unsuspected qualities of his nature had brought him
in such close touch with his surroundings that this isolation seemed
only the effect of his power. His loneliness added to his stature. There
was nothing within sight to compare him with, as though he had been one
of those exceptional men who can be only measured by the greatness of
their fame; and his fame, remember, was the greatest thing around for
many a day's journey. You would have to paddle, pole, or track a long
weary way through the jungle before you passed beyond the reach of its
voice. Its voice was not the trumpeting of the disreputable goddess we
all know--not blatant--not brazen. It took its tone from the stillness
and gloom of the land without a past, where his word was the one truth
of every passing day. It shared something of the nature of that
silence through which it accompanied you into unexplored depths, heard
continuously by your side, penetrating, far-reaching--tinged with wonder
and mystery on the lips of whispering men.'

CHAPTER 28

'The defeated Sherif Ali fled the country without making another stand,
and when the miserable hunted villagers began to crawl out of the jungle
back to their rotting houses, it was Jim who, in consultation with Dain
Waris, appointed the headmen. Thus he became the virtual ruler of the
land. As to old Tunku Allang, his fears at first had known no bounds. It
is said that at the intelligence of the successful storming of the hill
he flung himself, face down, on the bamboo floor of his audience-hall,
and lay motionless for a whole night and a whole day, uttering stifled
sounds of such an appalling nature that no man dared approach his
prostrate form nearer than a spear's length. Already he could see
himself driven ignominiously out of Patusan, wandering abandoned,
stripped, without opium, without his women, without followers, a fair
game for the first comer to kill. After Sherif Ali his turn would come,
and who could resist an attack led by such a devil? And indeed he owed
his life and such authority as he still possessed at the time of my
visit to Jim's idea of what was fair alone. The Bugis had been extremely
anxious to pay off old scores, and the impassive old Doramin cherished
the hope of yet seeing his son ruler of Patusan. During one of our
interviews he deliberately allow