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He shook his angry old arm at Wan Lingga, shouted a withering curse, took one sad look at his blazing roof-tree, and then plunged into the forest. When the looting was over, Wan Lingga's people dispersed in all directions.
Wan Lingga's men raised their war-yell, and shrieking 'By order of the King! fired into To’ Kâya's house. Old To’ Kâya, thus rudely awakened, set his men to hold the enemy in check, and himself passed out of the house in the centre of the mob of his frightened women-folk.
His old enemy To’ Râja, whom he had sought to displace, was now ruling the Jĕlai, and enjoying every mark of the King's favour. Domestic troubles in the royal household had led the King to regard the friendship of this Chief as a matter of some importance, and Wan Lingga's chances of preferment were dead and buried.
All these things he saw and feared, and his soul sank within him. At last Pĕnjum was reached, and To’ Kâya's house was ringed about by Wan Lingga's men. The placid moonlight fell gently on the sleeping village, and showed Wan Lingga's face white with eagerness and anxiety, as he gave the word to fire. In a moment all was noise and tumult.
This was the place which was to be Wan Lingga's object of attack. A band of nearly a hundred men followed Wan Lingga from Âtok. Their way lay through a broad belt of virgin forest, which stretches between Âtok and Pĕnjum, a distance of about half a dozen miles.
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