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Wan Bong had started up the Jĕlai on his triumphal progress, and it was important that no news should reach him, that might cause him to stay the dispersal of his men. So Che’ Jahya's fate was sealed. About the second day after Wan Bong's departure for Bûkit Bĕtong, Che’ Jahya was seated in the cool interior of his house at Kuâla Âtok, on the Tĕmbĕling River.
He had stood by Wan Bong when bullets were flying, and had camped on the bare earth when his armies had taken the field. His aid and his counsel had had no small share in his chief's success. Che’ Jahya's heart was filled with peace, and the gladness of one whose toils are over, and who sees his rewards well within his grasp.
Sutan Băginda hacked off Che’ Jahya's head, salted it, for obvious reasons, stained it a ghastly yellow with turmeric, as a further act of dishonour, and, when the house and village had been looted, carried his ghastly trophy with him down river to the camp of Che’ Wan Âhman.
On Che’ Bûrok's arrival in camp, the head was salted, as Che’ Jahya's had been, and, like his, it was also smeared with turmeric.
Already, in imagination, he was acting as the new Bĕndăhâras deputy, having power over men, a harem full of fair women, and wealth to gild his ease. And yet, as he sat there dreaming, his death was ever drawing nearer to him, unfeared and unsuspected. Shortly before sunset, at the hour when the kine go down to water, a party of Râwa men came to Che’ Jahya's house.
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