To return that night to Banjoe Pahit was clearly impossible. Verstork had to hold a preliminary inquiry into the terrible event which had so suddenly disturbed the dessa, and about this investigation, he was determined to set at once, and [162]to conduct it in the thorough and conscientious manner in which he was wont to discharge all his duties. These were the facts which this inquiry brought to light.  
At about 5 o’clock in the afternoon, Singomengolo, the opium farmer’s trusty spy, and a Chinese bandoelan had made their appearance in the dessa Kaligaweh. They had proceeded straight to the opium-den, where they had to obtain some necessary information from the men in charge of that establishment. When they had learned what they wanted to know, they went to the Loerah’s house; but that functionary was not at home, having been called away, as we know, to make the necessary arrangements for the next day’s hunting. So the two worthies had betaken themselves to one of the other members of the dessa government, who granted them the assistance of the local police. Accompanied by a couple of policemen, the Chinese bandoelan went to the dwelling of Setrosmito, the father of Baboe Dalima, and when he got there, he signified his intention of searching the premises.
 
Said he to Setrosmito: “You never visit the store kept by Babah Than Kik Sioe, you never smoke any opium there, nor even purchase any from him. The opium-farmer has, therefore, come to the conclusion that you manage somehow to get hold of smuggled opium. Anyhow, my orders are to search your house, thoroughly.”
 
“I never go to the den to smoke,” was the honest old peasant’s straightforward reply, “nor do I smoke opium at home; you will find nothing of the kind under my roof. But do as you like!”
 
Thereupon, the Chinaman and his two policemen were about to enter, when Setrosmito stopped them.
 
“No, no,” said he, very calmly, “wait a bit. Before you begin, I shall have you fellows searched.”
 
And, turning to some of his friends whom the appearance of the bandoelan had brought about the hut, he said: “Sidin and Sariman, just lend a hand to overhaul these fellows.”
 
The opium-hunters were too well used to such treatment to make any serious resistance, and they submitted to the scrutiny—a scrutiny which was conducted most minutely, but which did not result in producing the least trace of opium. When they had been examined thoroughly, Setrosmito allowed the men to enter his dwelling, and to proceed with their visitation of the premises.
 
The hunt which ensued was merely a repetition of the scene [163]which had, a short time ago, taken place in the wretched cabin of poor Pak Ardjan; but if no opium had been found upon the persons of the searchers, neither did the Chinese bandoelan, nor his men succeed in discovering the slightest trace of contraband goods in any corner of the house. Just as in Pak Ardjan’s case, here again they turned over everything, and ransacked every hole and corner; but not the slightest vestige of opium was found in the place.
 
At length the Chinaman despairing of success, and very angry at his failure, cried out in a rage: “Where are your children?”
 
Setrosmito quietly answered, “The children are on the common minding the oxen.”
 
An evil smile played upon the yellow features of the bandoelan, when he heard this man actually was the possessor of a pair of oxen.
 
In the once thriving dessa Kaligaweh, there were, alas! at present very few of the inhabitants who could boast of owning so much as that. He did not, however, speak a single word; but he left the hut taking his two policemen with him, and went to report to Singomengolo that all their trouble had been fruitless.
 
When Singo had heard his subordinate’s statement, he looked with a contemptuous and pitying smile upon him, as he scornfully said to the Chinaman:
 
“Much use you are to Lim Ho and Lim Yang Bing! You a bandoelan! You will never find smuggled opium,” he continued, in a jeering tone, “you are too clumsy.”
 
“No,” was the man’s indignant reply, “nor you either, where there is no opium to be found!”
 
“Come, Keh,” said Singo. “Will you bet me a rix-dollar that I don’t manage to find some?”
 
“Quite impossible,” cried the Chinaman, “I have turned the house inside out. I have searched the bamboo laths of the walls and roof, and there is nothing—absolutely nothing anywhere.”
 
“Have you looked under the hearth?” asked Singomengolo.
 
“Yes.”
 
“And in the ashes under the hearth?”
 
“Yes,” was the reply again.
 
“And have you grubbed up the floor?”
 
“Yes.”
 
“And have you turned over the baleh-baleh and the cushions?” [164]
 
“Yes, yes, yes!” cried the man, impatiently. “I am no child, I suppose.”
 
“No, you are no child,” jeered Singo, “but you are one of the greatest fools in the world; as stupid as one of those oxen! Now, just you come along with me,” he added, after having flung these amenities at the head of his pig-tailed countryman. “Just you come along with me and you will see that my eyes are better than yours. You could see nothing; but I shall manage to ferret out something before long. Those mangy dessa-dogs always have opium about them.”
 
The wretch seemed to forget that in that very dessa he had himself first seen the light; however—that is the way of the world!
 
So the four men set out once again to Setrosmito’s house; and once again, as before, did the Javanese attempt to insist upon searching the persons of his unwelcome visitors before allowing them to enter. But Singomengolo would have nothing of the kind. He refused point-blank to submit to any search. Said he, in his blustering way: “You lay your hands on me and I will thrash you like a mangy cur!” Setrosmito tried to protest; but it was in vain. “Aye, aye,” said he, “if that be the case then I have but little doubt that they will find anything they want. I know all about those tricks. Kabajan,” he continued, as he turned to one of the chief men of the dessa, who stood looking on among the crowd which was rapidly assembling. “Kabajan, I call upon you to witness what is about to happen here.”
 
But the latter, who had the greatest horror of coming into collision with the wretches of the opium monopoly, made no reply whatever to the old man’s appeal, and quietly slipped away.
 
Singomengolo, with a brutal and defiant laugh, entered the hut with his followers. It so happened that at the moment, Setrosmito’s little children also came in. The two boys and their sister had just returned from the common, and opened their eyes wide at seeing so many people assembled round their father’s house. The two boys were eight and nine years of age. Like most of the young Javanese children, they had pretty little faces, with the funniest expression in their twinkling and roguish dark-brown eyes; but their appearance was, to a European eye, wholly spoilt by the manner in which their heads had been treated. They were clean shaven except one single tuft of hair of about a hand’s breadth, which the razor [165]had spared and which one of the boys wore on the top of his head, and the other over his left ear. They had the well-formed and supple limbs which are characteristic of their race, and were exceedingly slender in the waist. These natural advantages were seen to the greatest advantage since, in accordance with the primitive customs of the island, they ran about completely naked, with nothing on at all except a silver ring round each ankle. The little girl, a child of seven, was remarkably pretty, her well-formed childish face peeping out charmingly under a profusion of jet-black glossy hair. Her arms were bare, and the only clothing she wore was a bright-coloured patchwork apron which was secured round the hips by a slender chain of silver, from which dangled a small ornamental plate of the same metal. When they ran into the hut they found Singomengolo very busy indeed turning over the contents of boxes and prying into pots and pans, while their father was most carefully watching every gesture he made, and was not allowing a single motion of his nimble hands to pass unnoticed. This close attention vexed the wretched spy beyond measure, who thus saw his wicked plan frustrated, because, while those keen eyes were upon his fingers, he could not even attempt to exercise his sleight of hand without being instantly detected. In the hope therefore of distracting the father’s attention, Singo made a sign to the Chinaman, who, with his slanting eyes, sat looking at the children and leering most offensively at pretty little Kembang. The man understood the signal and at once seized one of the boys, and, under the pretence of searching for concealed opium, he felt all over their little bodies, under the armpits, in fact, anywhere wherever a little mandat-ball could by any possibility lie hidden. The boys kicked and fought under this disgusting treatment and did all they could to bite and scratch the dirty scoundrel; but not a single cry did they utter which might draw away their father’s eyes from the manipulations of Singomengolo. But when the bandoelan laid hold of the girl and strove to tear off her apron, the poor child could not repress a loud cry of terror, she tore herself away from his rude grasp, and flying to her mother, tried to hide herself on her breast, while the poor woman clasped her child in her arms as if to protect it from further insult. It was, however, in vain; the Chinaman with his sickly yellow face came up to the mother and, with the help of his two assistants, wrenched the poor girl from the woman’s arms, who was wholly unable to resist their violence. [166]
 
“Your turn next,” cried the Chinaman to the mother, “that young cat has had plenty of time to pass the stuff to you. Keep your seat!”
 
Then the disgusting scene through which the two boys had passed was re-enacted on this helpless child—a proceeding infinitely more loathsome, inasmuch as its victim was a little creature of the tender sex towards whom the wretch thought he might with impunity act as he pleased.
 
“Alla tobat!” screamed the poor woman who was compelled to see her daughter thus outraged wantonly before her eyes.
 
That bitter cry of distress had the desired effect. For a single instant it caused Setrosmito to turn his watchful eyes to his wife; but that single instant was sufficient. Quick as lightning Singomengolo took advantage of it, and slipped his closed hand under the little Pandan mat which was spread out over the baleh-baleh and which, during the search, had already three or four times been lifted and shaken without result. Then, in triumph, he produced from under it a little copper box, and, as he held it up with a theatrical gesture he exclaimed:
 
“You see that; after all, there was smuggled opium in the house; I knew I should find it!”
 
Setrosmito turned deadly pale at the sight; he well knew what the Dutch law-courts had in store for him, and the thought of the ruin which thus stared him in the face filled him with rage and fury.
 
“There was no opium concealed here,” he cried out; and in his despair not well knowing what he was doing, he put his hand out mechanically to the kris, an old heirloom which was stuck into the bamboo-wall above the baleh-baleh.
 
“You dirty dog,” he cried to Singomengolo, “it was you yourself that slipped that box under the mat!”
 
The words had scarcely passed his lips before Singomengolo answered the frantic accusation by a blow with his clenched fist which struck Setrosmito right in the mouth. Maddened with pain and rage the unhappy man plucked the kris from its sheath; but at that moment, suddenly, little Kembang uttered a heartrending scream of pain and horror. That cry saved the life of the opium spy. The poor father looked round as if bewildered at the sound; but when he saw the disgusting leer upon the Chinaman’s face and in what an outrageously indecent manner that wretch was treating his pretty little flower, the blood seemed to rush to his head and his rage was at once [167]turned into another direction. A red mist—red as blood—clouded his eyes.
 
“Help, help, pain, pain!” cried poor little Kembang.
 
Utterly blinded and wholly beside himself with fury the father, kris in hand, flew towards the miscreant.
 
“Amokh, Amokh!” shouted one of the policemen, as he saw the flaming kris in the frenzied father’s hand.
 
“Amokh, Amokh!” cried the crowd outside taking up the shout without knowing what was going on inside the hut. Women and children rushed away yelling and screaming in all directions. Soon on all sides resounded the fatal words:
 
“Amokh, Amokh!”
 
The men flew home to fetch their lances and krisses, not in the least knowing what really was the matter, but at the mere terror of the sound.
 
“Amokh, Amokh!” repeated the watchmen as they rushed wildly to the guardhouse and began to make as much noise as they could upon the public gongs.
 
The policeman who had been the first to cry Amokh, made a frantic effort to draw his sabre; but the blade was so firmly rusted into the sheath that no efforts he could make would draw the weapon. The other policeman who had no time to draw tried to lays hands upon the infuriated Javanese; but as he attempted to seize him, he received a slash across the face and breast which was no doubt but a deep flesh wound; but though not mortal, occasioned so much pain and so much bleeding that the wounded man fell back moaning and was glad enough to save his life in headlong flight. The sight was quite enough for his comrade, and he also took to his heels at full speed.
 
Then Setrosmito found himself face to face with the ill-starred Chinaman, who had not let go his hold on the litt............