STORY OF CYPRIPEDIUM PLATYTAENIUM 211 



Kunsi to assist his guest. They also found the situation 

 vastly amusing, but they were kind enough. 



The chief had a bottle of skimpin ready. He set a slave 

 to wash Smidt's head, and clothed him in a snowy bajo. No 

 questions did he ask. Smidt told his short story, and begged 

 him to pursue the malefactor. 



' No good, sir,' said the chief. ' I policeman here — I 

 know. Where you think Ahtan ^ ' 



'In the jungle, I suppose, making for Kuching with the 

 great nugget he picked out of the rock. Send to warn the 

 Tuan magistrate, at least.' 



*I say, sir, I Tuan magistrate here, and I know.' He 

 unlocked a coffer, iron-bound, using three separate keys ; 

 brought out a parcel wrapped in cloth and slowly unfolded 

 it, looking at Smidt the while, his narrow eyes twinkling. 



' You say nugget, hey .^ ' 



Smidt gasped. It was a lump of gold as big as his two 

 fists. 



' Is this — is this mine ? ' 



The chief sat down to laugh and rolled about, spluttering 

 Chinese interjections. 



' Is this mine ? He-he-he-he ! Mine ^ This gold, sir ! 

 Kunsi take gold — all gold here ! You says, mine, sir ? Ha ! 

 ha! ha!' 



Smidt did not feel assured of his legal rights. 



' You took it from Ahtan ^ ' he asked. ' Did you arrest 

 him ? ' 



The chief had another fit. Recovering, he answered, 

 ' Ahtan down this way,' and stamped upon the ground. 



' In the cellar ? Oh, that's a comfort ! I'll carry him 

 to Kuching to-morrow.' 



This caused another outburst of merriment. ' I tell, sir, 

 I Tuan magistrate at Bau. Ahtan he under order for 

 kingdom come to-night.' 



