The winged life of the place filled the air with raucous cries, whilst shouting Dyaks scurried in all directions.
Several came into the valley.

Those nearest the fallen man picked him up and carried him to the well.

He was quite dead, and, although amidst his other injuries they soon found the bullet wound, they evidently did not know whence the shot came, for those to whom he shouted had no inkling of his motive, and the slight haze from the rifle was instantly swept away by the breeze.
Iris could hear the turmoil beneath, and she tremulously asked-- "Are they going to attack us ?" "Not yet," was the reassuring answer.

"I killed the fellow who saw us before he could tell the others." It was a bold risk, and he had taken it, though, now the Dyaks knew for certain their prey had not escaped, there was no prospect of their speedy departure.

Nevertheless the position was not utterly hopeless.
None of the enemy could tell how or by whom their companion had been shot.