“Are zee raskils near?” he asked, sternly.

“No.  We have come on many days ahead of them.  But we found a party at the river’s mouth awaiting their arrival.”

“Ant zey cannot arrife, you say, for several veeks?”

“Probably not—­even though they had fair and steady winds.”

A sigh of satisfaction broke through the naturalist’s moustache on hearing this.

“Zen I vill—­ve vill, you and I, Mister Roy,—­go after ze booterflies to-morrow!”

“But we must push on,” remonstrated Van der Kemp, “for preparations to resist an attack cannot be commenced too soon.”

“You may push on, mine frond; go ahead if you vill, but I vill not leave zee booterflies.  You know veil zat I vill die—­if need be—­for zee Rajah.  Ve must all die vonce, at least, and I should like to die—­if I must die—­in a goot cause.  What cause better zan frondship?  But you say joost now zere is no dancher.  Vell, I vill go ant see zee booterflies to-morrow.  After zat, I will go ant die—­if it must be—­vith zee Rajah.”

“I heartily applaud your sentiment,” said Nigel, with a laugh, as he helped himself to some of the food which the Dyak youth and Moses had prepared, “and if Van der Kemp will give me leave of absence I will gladly keep you company.”

“Zank you.  Pass round zee victuals.  My appetite is strong.  It alvays vas more or less strong.  Vat say you, Van der Kemp?”

“I have no objection.  Moses and I can easily take the canoe up the river.  There are no rapids, and it is not far to the Rajah’s village; so you are welcome to go, Nigel.”

“Das de most ’straord’nary craze I eber know’d men inflicted wid!” said Moses that night, as he sat smoking his pipe beside the Dyak boy.  “It passes my compr’ension what fun dey find runnin’ like child’n arter butterflies, an’ beetles, an’ sitch like varmint.  My massa am de wisest man on eart’, yet he go a little wild dat way too—­sometimes!”

Moses looked at the Dyak boy with a puzzled expression, but as the Dyak boy did not understand English, he looked intently at the fire, and said nothing.

Next morning Nigel entered the forest under the guidance of Verkimier and the Dyak youth, and the orang-utan, which followed like a dog, and sometimes even took hold of its master’s arm and walked with him as if it had been a very small human being.  It was a new experience to Nigel to walk in the sombre shade beneath the tangled arches of the wilderness.  In some respects it differed entirely from his expectations, and in others it surpassed them.  The gloom was deeper than he had pictured it, but the shade was not displeasing in a land so close to the equator.  Then the trees were much taller than he had been led to suppose, and the creeping plants more numerous, while, to his surprise, the wild-flowers were comparatively few and small.  But the scarcity of these was somewhat compensated by the rich and brilliant colouring of the foliage.