Free Stars Over Sarawak by Anne Hampson Page A

fate was to be. If she could manage to get away from the village she could follow the river and sooner or later a boat must appear. What was Kayun doing? The prahu in which he and she had started out had been left at the first longhouse, so if he had gone off he must have taken one belonging to one of the Natives of the village. Somehow she felt sure that he was well on his way downstream and that help would not be long in coming. But a lot could happen in the meantime and she began seriously to dwell on making some effort to escape.
     
     The door was slightly open, but outside sat a Native, clad only in a loincloth. She could see him, sitting cross-legged, motionless. No possible chance of getting past him. There was a wall opening, but something had been put against it from the outside and try as she would she failed to move it. But she could see out, through the slits in this covering, and as she looked women appeared and began working, and only then did she realize that the ground was utilized for the growing of rice and vegetables. It all looked so peaceful, with the little brown children running to join their mothers or playing together on the edge of the padi field, that it seemed impossible that there could be any evil intent towards her.
     
     The day dragged on and darkness fell once more: She was given food but no water. The drink she was given, was borak, a wine made from rice and which Roanna detested, having tasted it only once, when she had done so to please Malcolm. A long time after she had been given the food the man who spoke English came to the door.
     
     ' Bomah been unwell. Tomorrow he be better and come down from Danggau longhouse to say what will be done to you.' And without waiting to see if she had anything to say he went out, leaving her alone in the darkness again. Outside she could hear the chattering going on on the verandah, and the laughter of children. What sort of rites was this witch doctor going to perform? The very idea of a witch doctor was enough to bring a return of her fear and she tried not to think about it. Tiredness helped and although she strove to keep awake, desiring to remain on the alert, she did eventually succumb to the pull of sleep.
     
     
     
    Dawn had broken, but it was a sharp imperious voice that wakened her ... an English voice speaking the Malay language! Roanna shot up from the straw mat and called a name at the top of her voice. It was a miracle! She called again and again,
     
     'Mr. Denver, Mr. Denver! Oh, Mr. Denver, how did you get here?' He came through the door and she had the greatest difficulty in not falling into his arms. 'I — I—' She burst into violent, hysterical weeping and so weak did her legs become that she would have toppled over had he not caught her, slipping an arm around her to provide support. 'I'm s-so sorry—' She choked to a stop and, responding to a natural instinct, she unashamedly used his chest to weep upon. But she was again apologizing, although she had another little weep afterwards. Carl just held her and through her distraught mind came a feeling of security and reliance she had never before experienced. 'I'm so very sorry,' she said again. 'It w-was s-such a relief to s-see you.' She never thought to ask him how he happened to be here; for the present it was sufficient to know that he had arrived in time to rescue her from whatever hideous fate these people had in store for her.
     
     Presently he put her from him and as she stared into his set taut face her heart missed a beat. He could save her, she said, a question in her eyes. But his expression underwent no change whatever and her heart missed another beat.
     
     'You have influence with these people?' she faltered. 'You can explain that I had no hand in those thefts?'
     
     'They're in an ugly mood,' he said brusquely at last. And after a pause, 'What the hell made you embark on a mission like this when I'd told you not to?'
     
     'I thought it was safe to