closely related to  Pănglîma    Prang,  and to  the Jĕlai   natives.    He  foresaw that,   if
war was declared    against Pănglîma    Prang   by  the King,   the Lĭpis   people  would
throw   in  their   fortunes    with    the former. It  was here,   therefore,  that    he  saw his
chance, and,    as  the fates   would   have    it, an  instrument  lay ready   to  his hand.
At  Kuâla   Lĭpis   there   dwelt   in  those   days    an  old and cross-grained   madman, a
Jĕlai   native  by  birth,  who,    in  the days    before  his trouble came    upon    him,    had
been    a   great   Chief   in  Pahang. He  bore    the title   of  Ôrang   Kâya    Haji,   and his
eldest  son was named   Wan Lingga. The latter  was as  wax in  To’ Gâjah's hands,
and when    they    had arranged    between themselves  that    in  the event   of  a   campaign
against Pănglîma    Prang   proving successful, Wan Lingga  should  replace the latter
by  becoming    To’ Râja    of  Jĕlai,  while   the Lĭpis   Valley  should  be  allotted    to  To’
Gâjah,  with    the title   of  Dâto’   Kâya    Stia-wangsa,    they    together    approached  the
Bĕndăhâra   on  the subject.
They     found   him     willing     enough  to  entertain   any     scheme,     which   included    the
humbling     of  his     proud   vassal  Pănglîma    Prang,  who     so  lately  had     done    him
dishonour   in  his own capital.    Moreover    the Bĕndăhâra   of  Pahang  was as  astute
as  it  is  given   to  most    men to  be, and he  saw that    strife  between the great   Chiefs
must,   by  weakening   all,    eventually  strengthen  his own hand,   since   he  would,  in
the  end,    be  the     peacemaker  between     them.   Therefore   he  granted     a  letter   of
authority   to  Wan Lingga  and To’ Gâjah,  and thus    the war began.
The people  of  Pahang  flocked to  the interior,   all noisily eager   to  stamp   out of
existence    the     upstart     Chief,  who     had     dared   to  wear    shoes,  and     to  carry   an
umbrella    in  the streets of  their   King's  capital.    The aged    Chief   of  Lĭpis   and his
people, however,    clove   to  Pănglîma    Prang,  or  To’ Râja,   as  he  now openly  called
himself,    and the war did not prosper.    To’ Gâjah   had inspired    but little  love    in  the
hearts  of  the men whom    the Bĕndăhâra   had given   him for a   following,  and they
allowed their   stockades   to  be  taken   without a   blow    by  the Jĕlai   people, and on
one  occasion    To’     Gâjah   only    escaped     by  being   paddled     hastily     down    stream
concealed   in  the rolled  up  hide    of  a   buffalo.
At  last    it  became  evident that    war alone   could   never   subdue  the Jĕlai   and Lĭpis
districts,  and consequently    negotiations    were    opened. A   Chief   named   the Ôrang
Kâya    Pahlâwan    of  Sĕmantan    visited To’ Râja    in  the Jĕlai,  and besought    him to
make    his peace   by  coming  to  Pĕkan.
'Thou   hast    been    victorious  until   now,'   said    he, 'but    thy food    is  running low.    How
then    wilt    thou    fare?   It  were    better  to  submit  to  the Bĕndăhâra,  and I   will    go