country is all my own."

The visitors were impressed, exchanged meaning glances, nodded at each
other.

"Good, good," said Hassim at last, with a smile. "You carry your country
and your power with you over the sea. A Rajah upon the sea. Good!"

Lingard laughed thunderously while the others looked amused.

"Your country is very powerful--we know," began again Hassim after a
pause, "but is it stronger than the country of the Dutch who steal our
land?"

"Stronger?" cried Lingard. He opened a broad palm. "Stronger? We
could take them in our hand like this--" and he closed his fingers
triumphantly.

"And do you make them pay tribute for their land?" enquired Hassim with
eagerness.

"No," answered Lingard in a sobered tone; "this, Tuan Hassim, you see,
is not the custom of white men. We could, of course--but it is not the
custom."

"Is it not?" said the other with a sceptical smile. "They are stronger
than we are and they want tribute from us. And sometimes they get
it--even from Wajo where every man is free and wears a kris."

There was a period of dead silence while Lingard looked thoughtful and