In a tall tree near the Valley of Death he had tightly fixed a loaded
rifle which pointed at a loose stone in the rock overhanging the ledge
held by the Dyaks. This stone rested against a number of percussion
caps extracted from cartridges, and these were in direct communication
with a train of powder leading to a blasting charge placed at the end
of a twenty-four inch hole drilled with a crowbar. The impact of the
bullet against the stone could not fail to explode some of the caps. He
had used the contents of three hundred cartridges to secure a
sufficiency of powder, and the bullets were all crammed into the
orifice, being tamped with clay and wet sand. The rifle was fired by
means of the string, the loose coils of which were secreted at the foot
of the poon. By springing this novel mine he had effectually removed
every Dyak from the ledge, over which its contents would spread like a
fan. Further, it would probably deter the survivors from again
venturing near that fatal spot.

Iris listened, only half comprehending. Her mind was filled with one
thought to the exclusion of all others. Robert had left her, had done
this thing without telling her. She forgave him, knowing he acted for
the best, but he must never, never deceive her again in such a manner.
She could not bear it.

What better excuse could man desire for caressing her, yea, even
squeezing her, until the sobs ceased and she protested with a weak
little laugh----

"Robert, I haven't got much breath--after that excitement--but
please--leave me--the remains!"