ruly, yes, when wounded and driven to bay," returned the hermit. "You
must not judge of the creature by the baby that Verkimier has tamed. A
full-grown male is quite as large as a man, though very small in the
legs in proportion, so that it does not stand high. It is also very
much stronger than the most powerful man. You would be quite helpless
in its grip, I assure you."

"I hope, with the professor," returned Nigel, "that we may have a hunt
after them, either before or after the arrival of the pirates. I know
he is very anxious to secure a good specimen for some museum in which he
is interested--I forget which."

As he spoke, the youth who had brought information about the butterfly
returned and said a few words to Moses in his native tongue.

"What does he say?" asked Niger.

"Dat Massa Verkimier is in full chase, an' it's my opinion dat when he
comes back he'll be wet all ober, and hab his shins and elbows barked."

"Why d'you think so?"

"'Cause dat's de way he hoed on when we was huntin' wid him last year.
He nebber larns fro' 'sperience."

"That's a very fine-looking young fellow," remarked Nigel, referring to
the Dyak youth who had just returned, and who, with a number of other
natives, was watching the visitors with profound interest while they
ate.

As the young man referred to was a good sample of the youth of his
tribe, we shall describe him. Though not tall, he was well and strongly
proportioned, and his skin was of a reddish-brown colour. Like all his
comrades, he wore little clothing. A gay handkerchief with a gold lace
border encircled his head, from beneath which flowed a heavy mass of
straight, jet-black hair. Large crescent-shaped ornaments hung from his
ears. His face was handsome and the expression pleasing, though the
mouth was large and the lips rather thick. Numerous brass rings
encircled his arms above and below the elbows. His only other piece of
costume was a waist-cloth of blue cotton, which hung down before and
behind. It ended in three bands of red, blue, and white. There were
also rows of brass rings on his legs, and armlets of white shells. At
his side he wore a long slender knife and a little pouch containing the
materials for betel-chewing.

"Yes, and he is as good as he looks," said the hermit. "His name is
Gurulam, and all the people of his tribe have benefited by the presence
in Borneo of that celebrated Englishman Sir James Brooke,--Rajah Brooke
as he was